What is truth? Truth is the absence of lies; or is it more than a lie? Is it less than a lie? Doth it make anything better? Or worse? Truth is there! It doth exist somewhere inbetween the pages of books and the ears of a being; even if it is just a little truth! A truth ist always different from the truth, which in itself is; and will always be a lie!

Broken is what he was; he sat in the kitchen of his loving mom; she wasn't there anymore. Neither was his father. Fortyfive and freshly unemployed, without noteworthy relationships alway did a number on him. He didn't have to pretent anymore he was worth more than nothing.

He sat there with a cigarette, a glass of cheap wine and freshly sharpened kitchen knife. It was a nice knife. It was simple and he liked it quite a bit. he would have to sell everything he owned before he got any help and help he did need, yet not the help he inquired. 

Long gone was the time where he searched for a reason to live, a goal; yes having wife and children was something that was fulfilling, yet he was sane enough to accept, that his role had to be somewhere else.

Yet again life was without reason. For him anyway. He was no conquerer like those old acquaintances from work; no one with any particular self esteem or something like that; no he was weak and he knew. He hated it. Himself, his life, his failures and most of all his successes; why did he have to be born? Why couldn't...

He didn't think he had to complete that particular idea. He knew what to do. The most effective way to kill himself with a sharp knife was to cut his throat. No one would be able to safe him from that kind of selftreatment. Yet he knew it was not right doing things like this. Slowly he took the knife and put it away. It was always better to do something that helped life. Bored he sat down, knowing the right thing to do was to walk forward, to get a new job even if it was a trash job as long as it was work.

Drowsy he walked out of the room and suddenly there was nothing but darkness. Was he blind? No, he could neither feel the ground not anything else. Only the warmth of his body remained and even it seemed to fade.

He wondered what had happened? It was unreasonable to think one could easily die without pain if you were not drugged enough or some parts of your brain didn't work right; not if you were a reasonable healthy man. Yet this was what he hoped it felt like. Being alone without worry; it could be a little warmer though.

And slowly the feelings stopped. His breath... He he didn't know what had happened. And suddenly there were beings of great beauty before him. One of them spoke; it wasn't a language he could understand and the sound were not like a human could make them.

He knew it was wrong. These beings could do what they wanted with him and they did: They took his clothes. He grew colder. Anxious he stood in front of the gate to hell. It was as if he was dissected. And suddenly a voice was heard.

"Human you call yourself; you mind is weak and yet it is strong?" "You are weird!" "Mortals do not belong here" "Wanna have sex?"

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The last words belonged to a being that looked like a woman, he was not sure but her comment did seem to make the other beings angry; Again in a very foreign language they spoke.

The strange beings shaped themself. They looked more and more human and yet the beauty alway remained... divine? He couldn't be sure; as far as he knew.

"She seems to like you!", said a voice he didn't hear before. A part of him knew that he couldn't offend these beings yet he grew curious the more he was together with these beings. 

"Ah maybe you wonder where you are?", said yet another voice. "Your first idea was the right one; you are in the darkness. The enless exitence inbetween the universes"

Slowly he rolled his eyes. "There is only one universe", he said. He liked sci-fi and even more so fantasy. He was sometimes called a man-child by his mother; when she still were alive.

His voice sounded weird. "An interesting statement by a creature so... weak?" "Wrong word: fragile" "Fragile is not much better: You could call him... subsentient?" "Oh you are mean; what you want to express is not the ... fleshbound calculation mechanism, but his fleshbound cognitive abilities; but than again his core is made out of the same material as ours, yet far weaker. And as far as he perceives this word; he is right, there is only one universe because if there is more than one universe, than they are both part of the same universe. We all know that we don't necessarily do perceive the thing what we understand as "universe" yet than again, what he understands as universe is what you meant when he said it in his language. While he is right you are also right, "

The last words he couldn't understand again.

He didn't know the beings were moving; they were wanderers and he was their... pet? maybe?

They seemed to like him for his insights. Always had to discuss and of course they had corrected him. Another thin was, that they were many. He didn't understand how many. He wouldn't mean to. Yet someday the environment changed, from endless darkness to endless light to endless fire to endless water to endless... well he couldn't really discribe it. It was a weird feeling and the more they traveled the more they came to realms he could only emotianally perceive. And the journey went on. And on. And on. Until someday he felt something weird. He knew since long, that his body was dead, and only something, he would call a soul remained. 

The endless dread of the planes he walked through as well as the endless joy let him get ideas of greatness he couldn't yet fathom. But he knew that the journey or rather his journey came to an end. 

It was not a nice situation he was in. Neither understood the beings that journeyed with him what was happening. And yet suddenly he found himself or rather his soulself in a predicament where he couldn't move but was moved. A giant dog stood before him. Yet it was not a scary dog. More like a giant dachshund with a body too long for his stumpy legs. It would have been hilarious wouldn't the dog, which certainly could perceive him like he was a bodily being, wasn't able to gulp him down in one bite. Instead of doing that he  pulled me up with his snout, without his teeth touching me. And walked away with me. The moment he let me go I woke up and screamed.

A body! I had gained a body somehow... Not that I could see particular well. It was a new beginning; I would be a conquerer in this life a man with selfesteem and... nope not really... I was a baby; do you know what it does for a grown mans self esteem, not to be able to care of your daily needs? Probably the same things it does to a grown woman