But seriously, here's a look inside my mind, consider yourself privelged : The Sole Survivor
*remember this is only a draft and subject to change*
LOCATION: UNKNOWN
LAST RECORDED DATE: 12th Quattuor 6022
Darkness is merely the absence of light. It cannot exist unless all light has been extracted. Even a shadow is only the blocking out of a light source. Death is the absence of life. One cannot exist without the origin of life, a breath. If you ask me darkness is far worse than death. When dead, you aren’t aware of it. You don’t feel or know anything, all senses are lost. But when you are surrounded by darkness you are so very aware of it. That is when your fears come alive. It’s when all hope fails you and nothing is left. I am either dead or have fallen into deep darkness.
“Wake up!” Someone makes a harsh sound with their throat.
I don’t want to get up; I’m safe inside my head. I don’t even know what this is, and my only choices don’t offer much hope. I do know my last memory brought me here. A last glimpse at humanity before my eyes closed, before it all ended, before slipping away into the unknown. There was the smell of blood and sweat mixed with the smoke of bombs. The sun was overcast but the day was dreadfully hot, smoldering is more the word. Gun shots sounded from every corner, echoed by last shouts and a final breath. A final breath, searing pain, that’s what this is. I am dead, fallen in battle.
My comrades will give me a nameless grave if they follow my last wishes. I know this isn’t heaven, it’s too dark. There’s no beauty, there are no angels and no singing. I imagine there’d be singing in heaven. Mum always said that I would never make it to heaven if I didn’t straighten up and say my prayers. However, I do not believe this to be hell. It smells too clean. There are no unbearable sounds of agony and ongoing suffering. If this isn’t heaven or hell, than perhaps it is the place in between. Limbo is what my fellow soldiers would call it. The place for those who weren’t too bad or too good in life. I think that describes me well enough; limbo is a fitting place for me. But I don’t like it, not one bit.
“Wake up!”
Someone shakes me hard, someone whose hands are cold like death himself. I try to open my eyes before realizing they are already open. All I can see is black, black, and more black. There’s a quick flash of light and from out of nowhere some sort of beings appear. An extremely bright light shines from behind them making their faces and figures indiscernible.
“We’ve been watching you,” says a voice, a most definite female voice.
Her voice is in my head. It’s both painful and pleasant. The sound of her voice is soft, almost angelic yet it is also cruel and something to be feared. It’s almost bittersweet. I think you’re supposed to desire and repulse her. As soon as she stops speaking, you’ll go mad wanting to hear her again. Once she does, however, it is agony to bear. Indeed, she gives you feelings of love and hate. You’ll lose yourself either way and you will be left feeling empty and violated, always wanting more and hating yourself for it.
“As I said”, she begins again bringing a great and terrible beauty. “We have been watching you. And those who are like you.”
What exactly does she mean by ‘those who are like you’? And the idea of them watching me throughout my life creeps me out. I’ve done things no one would be proud of. Why on earth would they take a special interest in me. I’m no one special. I’m not significant in any way at all. Her voice buzzes in my head and it hurts, “But you are special. Remember. Don’t you remember?”
As I’m wondering what it is I’m supposed to remember, the Voice does something to my head. It’s as though she threw a beam of light inside my head. All I can see is flashing. My memories start to revive themselves, even ones I buried long, long ago. Then it stops on one single event that has shaped my life up to this moment: my birth. The second after I was born strange doctors took me away. My mother barely had a chance to kiss my nose and give me a name. Including myself, there were ten newborns that they conducted experiments on. Tests to cheat death, to expand life, and survive. But I’m the only one who lived through the experiments without dying or receiving brain damage.
“You were returned to your family and left to live a normal life.” The Voice speaks out for the first time. “However, your life cannot be called normal, not at all. At a young age you joined the army, performing every possible task you could. In a way, it was your only choice. All your family and friends were killed when the plague broke out in your town. You lived on. But there was her, safe and far away from it all she was. You loved that girl and would have done anything for her. It’s your fault, you know.”
“No”, I shout. My hands go to my ears so that I don’t have to hear her, but she only continues on inside my head. Why did she have to bring up Korah? As if dying isn’t bad enough now I have to relive my most painful memories. And Korah, poor Korah. Well, isn’t that life for you? Or death.
“She died too while you survived. Then it came.”
Indeed it came and it came relentlessly: endless suffering. There are those who called it the fall of man, while others referred to it as the end of the world. It was the fifth ‘Great War’, so the media said. I don’t know what to call it but I do know one thing. It was unavoidable and unappeasable. Death. Pain. Famine. War. Loss.
“Along with everyone else you fought against it. You all fought with your silly and useless weapons. Unlike the rest of mankind you remained unaffected. You live and everyone else dies.”
What is she talking about? Aren’t I dead now? If this isn’t death then it must certainly be the end. How could I be the sole survivor of it all? My head pounds with frustration at the thoughts running through my mind.
“The test performed on you when you were first born weren’t supposed to work. The experiments failed for the others, yet for some unexplained reason they did not fail you. After looking back over and over again, we’ve come to the conclusion that yours was flawed. However, it is your failed test that is the key. In other words William Elysian,” she uses my name for the first time, “You cannot die.”
I want to believe this is an over exaggerated joke staged by the lads back at base camp. They’ll get me to believe it then pop out shouting surprise. But this is all too real, the Voice knows too much about me, about Korah. But how can this be true? Everyone must die eventually, it is the natural order of life. Humans are created to live and then die. I cannot be the only exception.“Explain this to me,” I demand.
“William, have you ever wondered why you were found alone in your village at eleven years of age. You survived the plague. When the medical units finally arrived they found everyone dead, all wiped out in a matter of hours, all except for you. They found you wondering amongst the corpses, as though you were a flower trying to survive alongside weeds. And have you ever asked yourself why Korah died and you did not. There were bombs. She was blown to bits while you walked away unharmed. And haven’t you ever wondered why you stopped aging after you turned twenty-seven? Your body clock stopped. These aren’t the only examples.
“There have been many times you survived a dangerous mission while your comrades fell at your side. How many times have you watched a friend die on the battlefield? Only fragment of these events can your memory contain. William, you leave a trail of dead bodies in your wake, meanwhile you escape deaths grasp so easily. Haven’t you ever asked yourself why? Death seeks you, constantly calling you out but you have a way of eluding it/him. You always manage to slip away unscathed.” Her voice holds a hint of irony.
If this is a nightmare someone please wake me up. Save me from this. Save me from myself. I refuse to believe this insanity, though deep down inside me I know this is real. Everything she’s said is the cold, hard truth. “For this reason,” she continues indifferent to my complaints, “You are going to start over, so to speak. William we will lead you to the doorway of the living and the dead. From there you must find your way back into the world of the living. Also we have a task you must accomplish. Your very existence depends upon it. This is no small action and it will not be easy.
“William Elysian, you are to find the flaws of your fellow man. Learn from them and make the world better for the sanctity of all life. You will learn what it means to be human because I think you have forgotten. There is one last thing I must ask of you. Find the true meaning of life. Tell me what you learn. If you can do at least this one thing then perhaps we will let you have your peace.”
Peace. What is such a thing? If it does exist, why can I not have it now? I don’t understand why I must learn these things for her. Couldn’t she watch them as she observed me? And what could she possibly gain from such knowledge? All I want to do is die. To turn cold and let my flesh rot like everyone I ever loved. I’ve already live once, it was horrible. I can learn nothing from living again. The only meaning to life is to live and then die. Mankind cannot be fixed. They follow an erroneous pattern, one I am unable and unwilling to break.
“Why,” I ask. “Why me?”
“Because you survive William, you live and you cannot die.”
“But why can’t you find the meaning of life?”
“I interfered once before and have vowed never to do so again. Only you, a child of man, can learn it’s truths from its faults and find its secrets.”
“How can this be done?”
The bright light shining from behind them begins to fade. The Voice and the creatures back into the light as is disappears. If the Voice doesn’t tell me what to do, how am I supposed to help my fellow man? How can I do what she’s assigned me? I haven’t the slightest idea what to do or where to start.
“Live,” she says. “Begin again.” Then they are gone.
~>darkyetlovely<~
