My mind was set ablaze.
The utter agony of my brain being set ablaze was one I’d never felt before. Nor would I ever want to. This black abyss of nothingness that surrounded me was nothing short of an inhabitable environment. Pitch black stretched out as far as the eye could see, which in my case was not very far at all. My feet touched nothing but cold hard ground, so smooth that I could slip with one wrong step. However, there was an outlier.
It couldn’t be seen, but the sound was hard to miss out on. The soft sound of water sloshing around, a tiny puddle could be heard not too far from me. Its presence was suspicious, but out of desperation, I had no choice but to pursue it. Hoping it to be the solution to my flaming mind. But the puddle seemed to have a mind of its own, running seemingly as it heard me approach.
Chasing a puddle of water was hard as it is, but when you were doing it to put out the inferno encompassing your head, it was a lot harder.
Time passed, though the exact amount was unknown. Keeping track of the days was almost impossible, so I began estimating. My stamina allowed me to stay on my feet for a good amount of time, so I began calling the day the period of me being on my feet, resting and getting back on my feet. Following that system, it had to have been closer to a year. Though I’d lost count several times.
Throughout this time, the distance in between the puddle and I grew increasingly smaller, sometimes I felt that I had missed success by the distance of a hair. The problem however, had come from the puddle itself. Instead of simply running away, the puddle began to fight back. Or at least something fought me. As my hand would swipe for the water, or at least the cold air that could be felt surrounding the water, I was struck.
Some kind of invisible force would shoot out at me, sending me stumbling backwards. The pain that came from the shots were negligible, but it was the side effects that came with that were almost unbearable. For some messed up and unknown reason, the shots acted as fuel to the flame, fanning them and increasing its power. The agony would increase several fold following each shot, becoming so great and will-shattering, that the thought of accepting defeat appeared to me like a saviour. Giving up didn’t seem too bad right about now. That was, however, simply not a viable option.
Inexplicable anomaly after inexplicable anomaly would arrive right in front of me, none of them making sense to me. It was more so a voice, a silent but menacing voice that would reprimand me for even thinking about quitting. It was as if it would control my body, disgusted by the mere idea of giving up. As if, rolling over and dying was something I would heavily regret, but also something I could never do, it wouldn’t allow for it. It was commanding me, telling me I had to reach the water, and I had to continue living. Or my fate would be left in the hands of something or someone I did not want it in.
⥁
The cycles of time kept on repeating, each one feeling more foreign and far away than the last. It had to have been close to a few more years, but none of that mattered at present. For I have triumphed. I’ve finally done it.
The no-good bastard of a puddle stood under my feet, unable to run. Its futile attempts to wrestle its way out from under me, almost brought a smile to my face. But the awe I feel is far more overpowering than my joy. It had to have been years I’ve spent in this dark abyss, my only company being the fleeing puddle. But it took these moments of rest for my world to be flipped upside down. All this time I focused only on one thing, catching the puddle.
But at no point did I ever stop to ask myself, what happens now? Is the puddle enough to put out the fire? What happens after that? Will I still be stuck here?
But what scared me most was the question I’d been avoiding for far too long.
Who am I?
My mind had stopped me from trying to remember anything, no matter how hard I tried to remember something about myself, the flames would grow larger, forcing me to continue my chase. Even with the puddle in my grasp, something was blocking my memories. Not allowing me to find freedom. Only fragments and pieces rose to the surface as I stood silently above the puddle. It was a horrifying thing.
I saw a world, a beautiful world. Clear blue skies, nature you could spend hours getting lost in, smiles taking up residence on the blurred faces around me, It was as these small memories began to resurface, that the fire began to die down, turning from a raging vortex to a small flicker, a comforting flame.
Truthfully, it was almost funny.
It was allowing me to dream of happiness and of freedom, but were those things waiting for me? Does something change after my head dunks into the puddle below?
I stared down at the puddle. Its shape was barely visible, but the cool liquid enveloped my feet in an inviting gesture. If anything could help me out of this abyss, I prayed it would be this. It had to be. Taking several deep breaths, I leapt down on to my knees and slammed my head into the puddle. I couldn’t lose here. I couldn’t lose ever.
wa…wak…wake
WAKE UP!
My body hurtled forward, my eyes jumping open as a blinding light filled them. Just as quickly as everything returned to me, it was gone as my head hit into something cold and hard, sending me right back down.
⥁
“There was no need to forcefully wake him up. He was clearly showing signs of regaining consciousness on his own.”
“How was I supposed to know he was going to bang his head into the pod? He just jumped up! Plus, he’s been showing signs for the last three years. What if this time was just another slip-in, slip-out? I think both of you should be thanking me instead.”
“You’re out of your mind. Just please don’t say anything stupid when he wakes up. Let me and Finch do all the talking.”
“One day when I’m out of this place and I become the most sought after Arimus in the Solis, I don’t want to see you guys begging and pleading to get me back.”
“Whatever you say Cass.”
The annoying sounds of bickering people was both a blessing and a curse. My prayers had been answered, and I had returned to the place in my memories, gone was the stupid, dark and lonely abyss. But the high-pitched back and forth in between the two voices was beyond frustrating, making my ears feel as though they were about to burst right alongside my head. I’d honestly prefer having my mind set on fire again.
…
No I wouldn’t. The back and forth continued at its mind shattering octave for quite a few more minutes before the world seemingly began to quiet down. It was as if my body was being reset after not being used for quite some time. As light began to filter through my eyelids, I let them flutter open. Now observing my surroundings. My body was laid flat on some kind of narrow bed, my hands tied to the railings of the bed by some strange looking metal.
Three people stood around me. Two men to my right, one holding a clear board, the other a strange looking tool. It was hard to say what the people were simply based off appearances, but judging by the simple white and green gown I was wearing, it was safe to assume the man with the clipboard was healing me. The exact word of the job escaped me, but I believed the establishment was called a hospital.
The man with the tool could have been anything as far I was concerned. He could be some form of law enforcement officer, though that wouldn’t exactly make sense. Though, I was sure I could be way off with both guesses. Looking closer to their appearances, their attires were far from anything I recognized based on my memories. The doctor was wearing a matching green set of clothes, with patchwork over his chest and lower stomach.
Over the set was a white coat, adorned with even more patches on the arm and a strange looking blue screen on his forearm. The guard was even more odd looking. His black suit of armour made him look like he was going to war, and his short buzzed hair mixed in with his rough looking face only further enhanced the feeling.
His gun, or at least I think it’s a gun, was the most bizarre part of it all. It was long, bulky, and had a large opening at the end of the barrel. No mag was attached to it, and I could see a small screen where the sight of the gun should have been.
Finally, my eyes turned to the third person. A woman. She looked much more familiar in comparison to the other two.
She wore the same clothes as the doctor, but with no patches nor a screen, or at least if she did have one, it was nowhere to be seen. She did however have a badge with writing that seemed almost alien but other than that, she seemed almost perfectly normal.
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She was also quite the attractive woman.
Something the three of them all had in common however, was a strange slit filled with what looked like metal on the sides of their heads. An implant maybe? But what could it be? The doctor turned to face me, finally noticing my eyes had opened. A small smile began to form on his face.
“Well, would you look at that? One thousand and ninety-six days later, and you seem to be in tip-top shape.” He joked and spoke slowly as he helped me sit up in bed.
He untied my hands as he spoke. Looking around the room now, I felt even more lost.
The whole room was filled with machines and inventions that looked like they could bring back the dead or destroy the whole world, despite their size. Tubes, wires, metallic parts, everything was littered around the machines, only enhancing the unsettling vibes around them.
Clearly my shock didn’t go unnoticed, but it seemed that there was a bit of a misunderstanding.
“Don’t worry, we fully understand. It’s been a long time since you went under, you’re probably wondering what happened, right?” The doctor asked, his voice sounding a bit hesitant.
I tried to nod my head, but my body wouldn’t respond. So I simply moved my eyes up and down.
“Well unfortunately, son,” He paused, “that’s something we're a bit unsure of on our part as well. I’ve only just taken over as your caretaker a year ago, and your file, according to your previous caretaker, was lost some months after you came in. I myself was a bit baffled that it had been lost, but there wasn’t much I could do to fix that. So in the system, we’ve written that you experienced some form of head trauma, which would match up to some scans and x-rays we’ve done, but now that you’re awake, we have a few tests we can run that may help you remember what happened so we can help you recover accordingly.”
He smiled. Clearly the man was trying to be reassuring and calming, but something about his smile made my spine shiver. He seemed like a nice man, but it felt as though he was hiding something. But I couldn’t quite place my finger on what. It was more than just disappointing to find out that I couldn’t get an immediate answer to all my questions, but the hope that came with the promise of helping me get my memories back, lessened my disappointment but quite a bit.
I tried to speak up and say that I was on board with everything, but nothing would come out. It was as if my ability to speak had been snatched from me, and now nothing remained. I desperately tried to say something, anything, even going as far as to hold onto my throat to show the doctors that something was wrong.
“Ah, yes, sorry. Coma patient.” He gave an awkward smile and paused, before turning to the woman. “Cassia, bring the saline.” The woman gave an eye roll before pulling a small, clear plastic bottle out of a nearby drawer before handing it over to the doctor. Everything happened so fast I couldn’t even react.
The bottle cap was taken off and the bottle shoved against my mouth. A cool liquid flowed out, but the taste was so disgusting and putrid my body had a very physical reaction. As soon as the bottle had been removed from my mouth, the liquid, and then some, ended up everywhere, but unfortunately, mostly on the doctor's shoes.
“What the hell was that?!” I roared.
It wasn’t until all the liquid had been coughed out did I realize what just happened. My voice had come back. The disgusting liquid had somehow brought my voice back. Strangely enough, hearing the words come out of me felt weird, as if they had come from someone else and not me. But that was unimportant. The first step to recovery had been taken, and I was loving it.
“That,” The doctor started, looking down at his shoes, “was a saline solution used specifically for people such as yourself, who’s vocal cords have atrophied from disuse. Now I don’t think you want me to explain how it works, not that you’d understand.” His smile had disappeared just as quick as it came, not that much blame could be placed on him for it. The smell had just begun to hit my nose, and I thanked God none of it was on me.
The only person that seemed to be enjoying herself was the woman, who was currently stifling a very contagious laugh.
“I think it’d be better to just let you rest for a little bit.” The man turned, holding his hand up to the armed man who I assumed tried to protest his decision. “Rest, then questions.”
He turned one more time. “Cassia, finish up here, then head down to find Damon. I haven't seen him all day.”
She shook her head, and we both watched as the two left the room. We sat in silence for a few moments, as she revealed the screen hidden under her arm. Well you can’t be right about everything. She stared at it for a few moments, before closing it and turning her attention over to me.
She pulled up a chair next to me and handed me another clear bottle. I took it in my hands once she confirmed it wasn’t the disgusting liquid from before. As I drank, she began to remove the tubes and patches from my chest that had been hidden under the gown. We sat in silence for a few minutes before she finally broke it.
“So, where are you from, sir pukes-a-lot?” She chuckled. I looked at her for a moment before thinking of an answer. Finally, I decided to just go with what I knew.
“No clue, can’t remember a thing. I mean in this big of a hospital, there’s got to be someone that knows something about me right?” I joked partially, but I was also a bit serious. I know that the male caretaker said mine was lost, but there was no way they only had one.
“Hospital?” She responded, confused and fully ignoring the rest of my words.
“Oh sorry, with the memory loss I get some words mixed up. Is this place not called a hospital?” I rubbed my forehead, trying to think.
As I said the word hospital, it did sort’ve sound strange leaving my mouth. As if I were speaking gibberish or a language I didn’t know. For lack of better words, it didn't feel natural.
“I have no clue what you’re talking about. What’s a hospital?” She stared at me, wide-eyed.
Now I was even further confused. We couldn’t both be stupid, and I prayed that the person taking care of me wasn’t. So that could only mean something was wrong with me. But just what was causing the confusion in between us?
“They're big buildings where people go to when their sick or injured. I'm pretty sure.” I was about fifty/fifty on whether that was the right answer or not. The memories were returning to me slowly, piece by piece so it was possible I was just mixing up things. That could possibly be why the words carried a hint of strangeness when I said them aloud.
“Yeah, still no clue what you’re talking about.” She paused. “Are you from the south? Heard they still use some Old Tongues down there.” She stopped what she was doing and watched me attentively. As if I had finally piqued her interest.
“I’ve said this already, but I have no clue who I am or where I’m from. And what is Old Tongue?” I don’t know why my tone became so passive-aggressive, but having to repeat myself seemed to apparently be one of my pet peeves. The confusion was starting to bring back the pain in my head, only this time, no fire was ignited.
Thankfully.
“An Old Tongue are languages that have died out and aren’t used anymore. Like English.” She finished pulling everything out, then as she stood up, her expression turned sour. My words clearly offended her, but that was the least of my worries, watching as she left.
What the hell is going on here? At this point, the thought that maybe I’d simply gone insane grew to seem like a real possibility. Obviously, there wasn’t much information for me to go off of, but the basic societal, and a bit of intellectual stuff, was still retained inside my head. And it was all slowly coming back, so there’s no way everything could be wrong.
She didn’t know what a hospital was, that’s fine. She talked about some weird dead languages, that’s cool. But what the hell does she mean like English? What the hell is English?
My memories were very fuzzy and not at all reliable, but from what had already come back, I was pretty sure it couldn’t be all wrong. There was no way. The world doesn't change that fast. It couldn’t have. Three years was in no way enough time for the whole world to have progressed and shifted to a point in which I’ve been left behind. The future is supposed to come in a hundred years, not three.
There had to be something else going on.
“Just what the hell happened while I was out?” I mumbled to myself.
“What the hell!” I scooted back in bed as far as I could, which was about an inch given my current physical prowess. Truthfully, my body tried to jump back, but that was definitely not something the current me was capable of. Out of nowhere, a robotic voice sounded out. In a moment of panic, I reached for my head with both my hands, trying to drown out the noise believing it to be some kind of post-coma psychosis. What I found instead was a cold piece of metal on my right temple.
Then I paused. Post-coma psychosis? What a shot in the dark.
Instantly, my thoughts shifted back to what I saw on the heads of three people from earlier, and the weird metallic things I thought were implants. Looks like I am pretty good at guessing.
A metallic whirring started in my head, and a small shot of electricity flowed through my body. The sensation in my limbs slowly grew stronger as I slowly felt control over myself returning.
A world that I didn’t recognize. People who knew nothing of what I knew. It was as if instead of three years, I woke up three hundred years later. This couldn’t be real.
Nothing felt normal. Nothing felt right.
But suddenly, I felt it again. The voice. The voice that commanded and pushed me for so long was speaking to me once more. Its soft but domineering voice telling me that I couldn’t allow for the confusion to consume me. Which greatly contradicted my own thoughts as I wanted nothing more than to just curl up into a ball and hope everything that was happening was just another dream. But my body and mind refused. Forcing me to rid myself of confusion, and focus solely on getting back up on my feet. No one could help me but me right now. Which sucked immensely, but it was my reality to live in.
A certain thrill or rather rush of excitement began to slowly spread out throughout my body. Maybe a bit of self discovery would turn out to be kind of fun. I paused to think about what the robot had said.
There were of course a hundred questions to ask. But were they good questions? What could I truly gain from asking broad and nonsensical questions about me specifically? No. I needed to ask the real questions. I needed information, real information on just about everything. Thankfully, I had a robot inside of me that could help with just that.
“Every major historical event, invention, discovery, everything. I want to know how the world works, functions, everything down to the smallest detail.” I asked.
Today would be the start to a new life. The life of… what did the robot say? Cyrus Carod. Yes. A new beginning for Cyrus Carod.