The man woke up with a gasp, panicking before he saw that he was in a familiar room, the faint scent of lavender in the air. A realization washing over him calmed his thumping heart.
It was just a nightmare.
He let out a weathered sigh, the memories already slipping away. What had terrified him so much?
He quickly rolled out of bed, motivated to face the day. He poured himself a cup of warm Fiski and decided to begin his commute to the training grounds.
He lived fairly far away, enjoying the privacy it leant him. He turned to his open door, (he had never learned the password) and went towards it.
He walked through and-
Three Synths grabbed him. The machines punched and kicked. He tried to use his training but he was outnumbered. He had never learned how to fight more than one opponent. He felt his bones break, agony in every corner. He choked in fear as the black bag came out.
Two of the Synths grabbed his dysfunctional arms and twisted. The third came at him with the bag. All he could do was scream.
The bag went over the man’s head and--
He woke up. Still screaming. Looking around, eyes wide in panic.
Tears came to his eyes, he wept.
It was just a dream…
Lycern stared around the pitch black room, wide awake despite just having woken up. He sobbed.
The pleasant dream was gone and he was back inside the nightmare.
------
How long had he been asleep? How long had he been awake before that? How did time pass? Did time pass?
Lyrcen didn’t know. He didn’t know anything, all he knew was that he was alive.
He hated it.
It was pitch black, he could not see. Could only move his head, his body unresponsive, almost nonexistent. His only reminder? the neck that was attached to it. He moved his tongue, it was dry but his body didn’t feel dehydrated. His body felt fine, but his mind?
Had minutes passed? Hours? Days? Years? He hadn’t felt tired before he went asleep, but it had taken him instantly. Time did not seem to pass and how could he know if it did? There was nothing to see, nothing to do, only time to think.
Think and despair.
“WHAT DID I DO? WHY AM I HERE?” He screamed at the room, but there was no answer. Of course there wasn’t.
Lyrcens face streaked with unseeable tears, he was just a head in the void. Everything was out of reach but he didn’t die. Eternities of minutes passed, he could not die.
EVERY SECOND HE DID NOT DIE-
And then, suddenly he felt tired…
Sleep began to take hold…
Lyrcen smiled
Beautiful Oblivion.
Lyrcen woke up with a gasp, panicking before he saw that he was in a familiar room, the faint scent of lavender in the air. A realization washing over him calmed his thumping heart.
It was just a nightmare.
He let out a weathered sigh, the memories already slipping away. What had terrified him so much?
Pouring himself a cup of Fyski. He walked out the door. Synths. Fight. Black bag.
Lyrcen woke to the nightmare.
He remembered everything. The two dreams, waking up both times. How long had he been here? How long... panicked thoughts passed the time. Too quickly sleep started to take hold. It hadn’t been that long right? He didn’t need to sleep!
WHY WAS HE GOING TO-
Lyrcen woke up with a gasp, panicking before he saw that he was in a familiar room, the faint scent of--
--------
He always remembered the dreams, but never the nightmares. Each time he felt the feeling of relief, the pain was new each time. The despair always grew when he woke again. The certainty.
It took him just ten cycles to bite through his tongue.
Death is the only--
Lyrcen woke with a gasp, panick--
His tongue was gone completely, he didn’t care, he only chewed, he still had a--
Lyrcen woke with a--
He couldn’t move his jaw anymore. Lost his feeling in that too. Another piece taken by the void. Options done, all he could do was think. Try to come up with any answer in his head. But he had none, he knew nothing about why he was here, nothing about why he was trapped.
He lost count of the dreams, the count of the wakefulness. How many times would he feel that freedom only to have it taken away? How long had he been trapped here? It had surely been years. So many years. He could only wonder what he had done. Who would care to put him here…
Lyrcen wo-
Why couldn’t he die? Why wouldn’t they let him die? Why wouldn-
A terrible thought reached his consciousness.
What if this is death.
What if there is an afterlife and this is it. A floating ball of thought, held together only by habit.
Inescapable.
Eternal.
Caught reliving the last moments of your life, your failure to survive. What if this is just his imagination, the ‘head’ a concept of the imagination of his soul, an imitation. Feeling real. similar to a dream to a--
Lyrc-
Eternity like this, it had already surely been that, when would he fall apart? When would he cease to be? He had to end sometime he had to--
-------
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Lyrcen had no words but he needed to scream. He had no thoughts but he needed to think. His mind worked overdrive, stimulated, but he could do nothing, he stared at nothing.
He was nothing.
An endless cycle of waking, waking to and from a nightmare.
He cried continuously, a faint hope he could fill the void with salty tears and drown himself. He did not breathe but his lungs moved. He did not eat but he did not starve. No need for water.
The dead, it appeared, were immortal.
Time was all they owned.
-------
Lyrcen had never been superstitious, never believed in an afterlife. Maybe that was why he was here.
In this purgatory. In the nothingness.
He prayed. Surely that had been his sin. Gods were real and they were angry! The afterlife was real and he had been found lacking.
He heard of ancient cultures and their rituals. Their beliefs. They must have been based on something, a message. A certainty.
He knew that certainty now. The unyielding of doom. He had to escape. Had to have relief.
He prayed. To the gods he knew of. To the ones he didn’t.
Please! Please just let me out...
-------
“I’m sorry this happened to you.” A soft female voice talked to him.
A goddess? An angel? A devil or a demon?
It didn’t matter. All could be deliverance.
“Not going to respond?” The voice became almost playful. “Would you like to be left alone?” He shook his ‘head’ vigorously, not able to make a sound.
“Strange.” The voice continued, growing in concern. A hand touched Lyrcen’s head, part him almost thought it was real, hoped.
Honestly though? It didn’t matter if it was, this was new, change.
“Can you talk” She asked. He shook his head. “Why not? Wait, silly question. Sorry” The hand left his head. He tried to move after it to no avail. Tears came to his eyes.
Don’t leave me… He whispered softly in his head.
DON’T LEAVE ME! He shouted, prayer and curse, surely he did not need a mouth to talk to a goddess.
To his relief, the voice continued. Sleep did not find him, she was the answer to his prayers.
“I came to apologize for my part in this, and to see you, at least in my way.” The voice grew rueful. “See you. You must think that’s funny given the lighting. Well, it is, I guess to me, maybe not to you. But it’s also funny on another level.” She chuckled. “Sorry, you’re probably not in the mood for levity. Don’t worry, I’m only laughing because the only alternative is crying.”
The hand came back to the top of his head. “May I?” Lyrcen nodded, who was he to refuse the one he had prayed for?
Her hands went to the sides of his head, she slowly moved them across his face lower and lower, until they went to a place they shouldn’t have reached. A place he shouldn’t be able to feel them on.
Her hands trembled, then continued moving, ever so carefully, memorizing each detail.
Finnaly the shaking hands left Lyrcen’s skin, there was silence. Had she left? Had the hallucination gone? Had-
“You bit?” The hesitant question, he nodded even though she couldn’t see. It didn’t matter.
She already knew the answer.
“I’m sorry.” She reiterated. A trembling voice matching the trembling hands. “I didn’t know this was going to happen…” She laughed again, a laugh without mirth, without joy. “I didn’t see it coming…” She stressed the word.
“Blind to the problems... blind to the consequences… just how I wanted it…”
Lyrcen hated this goddess. He loved her. Hated, because there was some part of her that deserved the blame. Loved her for the simple fact she existed. That he could hear a voice. Feel a touch. It had been so long.
She sighed “I can’t get you out of this. I can’t save you, but... “ She placed a hand on his head again. “I can offer you one thing, think before answering.” He waited, patiently. happy to stretch out this moment of contact for as long as he could.
“Would you like to know how long it’s been? What’s happening to you?” He nodded, so vigorously. “...I said think” She said quietly, almost afraid to talk. “Is it better to know your fate? If your fate is certain doom. If you don’t know, you can hold out hope, right?”
NO! Lyrcen shook his head. Nothing could be worse than this, than not knowing.
“Ah, well. I disagree. Ignorance can be bliss.” She said regretfully. “You have been here for six days Lyrcen.”
No… six? That can’t be…
He shook his head in denial.
Her voice shook. “It’s true, I’m so sorry but it’s true. It’s only been six. The longest a person’s been in one of these is 1347 years and 67 days.”
Oh god, how they do that to someone...
“He was a serial murderer, sentenced to ten years... still, so long. One of the councilmembers at the time lost family to him and destroyed the information for where the machine was. His chip stated that he didn’t die but no effort was made to retrieve him… that… it was easy to think he deserved it for what he did.” Lyrcen shook his head vehemently.
“Yeah, I know, no one deserves this. Ky took the issue up on his own accord when he came to his position. Argued that the man should be executed for the closure of the families.” A snort. “It had been so long that no one had known who the man was of course, but it was good that it finally got sorted.”
“Now.” She said seriously. “If I told you that you had 1347 years and 61 days left of this, would you be happy with that knowledge? Would it still be better to know?” There was an obvious answer. He shook his head.
“Exactly. Sometimes it’s easier not to see the path. Uncertainty leads to hope. So... “ She placed something small in his eyes, he didn’t notice a difference. “It’ll block light. And-” He heard the sound of a cylinder clicking into place. Then the pouring of a drink. He felt her hands near the place his jaw wasn’t. Liquid trickled down his throat, entering in some unknown way. “For the pain. Hang tight, it’ll be over soon.”
The voice was drifting away. Leaving him.
Soon… Soon I’ll be--
Lyrcen woke with a gasp, panicking before--
-----------
He could move, he could move his body. Not well, but he felt no pain and it moved. All else was moot. A cold, hard, metal hand grabbed his arm. “Up.” It said, and pulled him.
Lyrcen stumbled and fell as soon as he came to his feet. He was not used to using them, it had only been six days but he had already forgotten how. When he finally stood, two metallic hands grabbed his arms and he was escorted forward.
To where he did not know. To what purpose?
He had an idea.
Forward was all he needed to know though. Blind to all happenings due to his eyes receiving no light. Numb to any sensations from the pain nullifiers in his bloodstream. Almost like a floating consciousness. Like the void.
But different.
Here he had the promise of freedom.
The promise of death.
A question sprouted in his mind. Did he want to die? He certainly wished for it in the room but… before then?
No.
He had made his opinion known in the faction that he thought the war was a poor idea. Sure, revenge and all, but did we actually have a plan? Could we succeed?
It didn’t matter now he supposed, a distant roar was calling him, the jury of the gods. The crowd of distant spectators. Some yelling hatred, some calling for mercy, disgusted at the treatment he had received. He stood before them all, back straight.
The crowds were meaningless to him. It was judgement day. A day he had waited for.
Prayed for.
An authoritative female voice broke through the noise, silencing the gaggle of onlookers.
“Today we are gathered to witness the execution of Lyrcen. A man who has been charged with purposefully misinterpreting the words of our Emperor, for that, the council has decided the sentence is death.” Part of the crowd cheered and some roared in outrage. She silenced them though.
“The sentence has been passed and all may bear witness. Lyrcen, do you have any last words?” She asked.
The mouthless man turned his head in her direction. He shrugged. Not even she mattered. All he cared about was the sound calling him, the distant thundering of drums up above, echoed in the silence. The call of the gods.
“Very well, your silence has been acknowledged.” His arms were grabbed and he was pushed to the ground. It would be beheading, the official method of execution.
Lyrcen’s ears did not pick up the crowd, all his focus was on the ever growing thundering of drums, the grand call of the heavens.
It was strange, all of this felt distant. As if it was happening in a far away place. He could not feel any sensations, could not bring himself to fear death.
No, he could meet it with no regrets.
He knew that he was going to die, but the knowledge didn’t haunt him. None of it felt real after the void. Just a beautiful dream that broke up his torment. An end to the nightmare.
Freedom.
His Goddess had been right.
And as he lay his head upon the block and heard the axe scrape the ground he knew with a certainty where he would go. The drums thundered, the crowd silenced, he imagined the axe being raised high above his head.
He smiled.
At least it is not the void.
The valkyrie burst through the ceiling, ready to carry him away. The great beast it rode upon trumpeted a exotic death knell. A collective gasp from the crowd as flesh split apart. Crushed and cut.
The sound came from the front of him, as if his spirit had already been floating away…
He felt no pain from the cut, the strangest thought came to him.
Death felt a lot like living.
And in the silence that took hold of the room Lyrcen heard his heartbeat, once, twice and by the third time, the oddest thing happened.
A man yelled his name and everyone began to scream.