Spring ended and the heat came. The sun was at its zenith in Callum’s mindscape, and he couldn’t help but lose his focus on his training. Even in this world of imagination, he couldn’t escape the warmth from the outside.

Sweat dripped down his face, and willed it to gather on his right palm. It didn’t do anything to cool him anyway, it was imaginary. Instead, he tried to concentrate on the blob of water in front of him.

However, before the liquid left his palm, it evaporated into the air when another heat wave struck his corpse. At the same time, his mind rumbled, the sun above brightening with a reddish hue, and the mountains in the distance roiled as he too felt heat accumulate in his head.

For the past few weeks, Callum has been doing his image training. From trying to imitate magic he’d seen in shows and movies, to conjuring objects into his world.

The first few days of mental gymnastics had been full of frustration. Everytime he tries to imitate a fireball, it either lights him on fire, gets extinguished, or explodes on his face. This then leads to more frustration that influences his imaginary landscape.

He deduced that his mental state is deeply intertwined with his made-up world, its landscape changing depending on his mood. It looks like another training was added to the list as he tried and failed to control his emotions during those first few days.

Taking a deep imaginary breath, the environment around him calmed and reverted back to normalcy. He was miles away in truly controlling his emotions. The feeling of small insects making a home out of his raisin of a body added fuel to his controlled fire. It’s like an itch under his skin he can’t scratch, a frustration he seldom felt when he was alive. However, he could at least calm himself now when he gets to a tipping point. Though, those first days of training were worse.

The frustration of multiple failures made his mindscape tremble, which added more to his building anger which turned into a cycle until he erupted into fury.

It was like the apocalypse manifest. The ground cracked and lava spewed everywhere. Even the mountains in the distance crumbled, and the sun turned fully red to symbolize his madness. It was no wonder that it took days to fully get his mind back into training, his mindscape too volatile to properly practice imagination.

Once again, Callum gathered droplets of water onto his palm. It formed into a sphere, held aloft by his will alone. The idea of water being fluid and malleable made it easy to control. However, when he swiped his hand forward, the water sprayed into a fog. He intended it to shoot like a high-pressure water cutter, yet at the last second, the image of rain entered his mind. It looks like the nature of water is still deeply ingrained in his psyche, making it hard to fully control.

Sighing, Callum looked outside with his senses. His body was unrecognizable. He had been dead for 4 months, and his flesh had been thoroughly eaten by the wildlife. Any remaining meat has dried, and it desperately clung to his bones with the few cartilage he has. Some parts of his body showed yellowish bones, especially the legs that had been torn apart by the wolf pack a few months back. One leg in particular saw itself a few feet away from him, courtesy to that one wolf demolishing his calve.

Though his remains were transitioning to skeletonization, his senses were still the same as the time he died. He could still see the monochromatic forest around him, but what once was a fifteen meter sphere has turned to fifty. It meant that he could see further, and the same goes for his hearing. If anything, his hearing was much better than when he was alive. He can distinguish the sounds of every animal within his senses, from their calls to the beat of their hearts. It was this past-time that helped him calm his mind after his episode of unbridled fury.

It only occurred to him that he had been watching through his senses for hours, his mind unable to tell what time of day it was through his new eyes. He can only tell the night has come from the shivering cold it brought with it.

It seems the idea of time had changed for him. When he was alive, the concept helped him to be punctual. It reminded him of how many years he had lived, or what time of day it was. Now that he’s dead though, it has turned into a long wait for the coming oblivion. When his consciousness faded away along with his body.

Morbid thoughts are the norm nowadays. Even if he tries to keep his mind occupied by using his imagination, deep down he knew that his time was limited.

Already, his memories are becoming fuzzy. He’d forgotten his birthday and the name of his mother. Even the city he was born in was gone from his mind. Like a fog slowly encroaching his psyche, bit by bit, his memories are forgotten. The fact it was happening disturbed him, however, he can’t do anything about it. It’s inevitable at this point, he’d accepted it.

***

Fall went by in a flash and winter is now upon him. His bloodless skin stuck close to his bones, his fleshless face hollow. Although his body was unrecognizable deep beneath a layer of snow, in his mindscape, he was the same as before he was alive. However, he could still feel the freezing environment around him. The biting cold of the season dug deep into his mind. He could feel his bones turn rigid cold. Yet, it didn’t bother him.

In this imaginary place, the world had turned into night. Stars and northern lights filled the sky of his world, the ground covered with a foot of snow. Even though there are no clouds, the sky still found a way to shower the world with white powder.

A cabin was built at the center, and the husky gifted by his father during high school was sleeping on a rug next to him. Callum sat on the floor next to the fireplace, his mind serene from the quiet winter brought with it. While the weather outside made his bones feel like icicles, he felt warm.

During fall, Callum found out his ability to conjure entities using his imagination. However, he opted to only use this ability on the pets he had throughout his lifetime. The thought of violating the few memories he had of others felt wrong to him, and although he is dead, he still felt a small sense of shame when he imagined his friends doing something they normally wouldn’t do. The imagined company was fine. It was even welcome. Yet, a voice inside his head told him the dark rabbit hole he’d fall into if he kept them in his world.

Let’s just say that spending months in total isolation, unable to move an inch of his body, made Callum pent up. Though he couldn’t feel pleasure, he could still use his imagination. Hence why the moment he saw his high school crush coming through the door, he immediately sent all of them away in a flash. However, that doesn’t rule out himself.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“You just landed on my property dude. Pay up.”

“Oh for fu– just take the damn money.”

“The offer still stands, man. You just gotta give me that one orange and—”

“Fuck you, you ain’t gettin’ nothin’.”

Four Callums sat on the dinner table playing a game of Monopoly. One of them, who’s property got landed on, sported a white-blue striped polo shirt and squared glasses he used to wear during his 30’s. Another, who is currently yelling at the guy in front of him, wore a gray hoodie and his father’s baseball cap. On the other side sat another Callum adorned with a simple white t-shirt, his face sporting a scar on his left eyebrow after the experiment. A blessing that they couldn’t really kill one another in this world. Finally, a Callum who was watching the hell in front of him unfold wore a black tanktop and shorts, already out of the game when he was unable to pay the scar-faced Callum. If anyone were to see this scene, they would have thought he’d lost his mind. A sentiment he can’t deny after spending months inside his own dead body.

He continued to listen to the others bicker while he watched the dancing flames inside the hearth. With a flick of his fingers, the flames erupted slightly, gaining the attention of the sleeping husky next to him. Callum smiled at Chestnut, petting her head as he continued to bask in the warmth of his own world. He knows that everything here was a lie he created himself, all imagined to keep himself entertained. That deep down, he still felt lonely.

As if sensing his inner turmoil, Chestnut barked, getting the attention of Callum. She stood up and tackled him, hinting for him to play with her for the remainder of the day.

Even if this world wasn’t real, Callum didn’t care. He felt at home in this world, and it looks like Chestnut wants to play.

“Alright, alright! Get off me! Go fetch your toy and we’ll play together.”

A chuckle left his mouth as he watched his dog run across the wooden home. His eyes softened as he gazed on the lively world of his own mind, the fire next to him reciprocating his thoughts. Its blaze softening, its colors turning warm.

***

Days of melancholic happiness continued as winter flew by. Nothing of note happened during it, except some further renovations in his mind, but nonetheless it was a great season to help heal his soul. A much needed reprieve after multiple months of hell he had to endure.

Before he knew it, the end of winter came, starting the coming of spring. His little world had seen some huge improvements. A baseball field was built behind the cabin, currently being used by his clones. In front was a field of farmland filled with colorful vegetables and berries. On the left was a pond full of koi fish, a small bridge leading further into a small forest garden. While the right has a wooden windmill catching the wind inside his world. It felt like his whole mindscape had truly turned into a farm. Though he can’t replicate the actual taste of real food, he could still imitate the act of eating, which helped keep him sane from the isolation.

Callum sat on the back porch of his cabin, watching his other selves play. His world is once again locked in the morning, however, it didn’t stop them from entertaining themselves.

He’d long accepted the fact that this would be the next couple years of his life. An imagined world of his dreams where he’d tend to the crops and watch the beautiful scenery for the remainder of the day.

However, as he watched the ball soar through the air, he felt his body erupt in pain.

It felt like he had been submerged into hellfire, making him crumple over as heat he couldn’t describe rushed through his system. His soul was cast aflame as Callum felt billions of hot needles dig deep into his avatar. His inner world rumbled, reflecting the pain he was experiencing. A ringing in his ears grew so loud he couldn’t hear his own screams inside his own head. Yet the pain only worsened.

As if he’d just drunk a gallon of liquid nitrogen, his insides turned freezing cold. However, unlike the chill of winter he’d grown used to, this felt like he’d turned into the concept of cold itself.

He felt his thoughts freeze over, his consciousness he never thought could die wavered from the intense sensations he was thrust into. He doesn’t even know what was happening, and he could only pray that his life would truly come to an end this time. However, his prayers went unanswered as fate had other plans for him.

Callum took a minute to calm his pain-stricken mind. He felt like he was on a precipice of a breakpoint, the experience too painful to even remember. His mindspace took the brunt of it. The usual warmth it had was lost, the scenery looking dead. A few cracks filled the ground, and the sky looked wrong. It would take multiple days to clean up his world. However, before he could start his repairs, he stopped.

Looking outside, Callum finally saw the aftermath of his ordeal. What was once a husk, regenerated in a matter of moments. His skin which had rotted a long time ago was back. His mummified flesh has turned to red muscle, blood he’d lost filling out his system. His non-existent brain returned, letting him sense his body’s condition clearly once more.

Callum, seeing his body was back to a condition when he was alive, felt elated. He had long forgotten the possibility of coming back to life, accepting the awaiting oblivion when everything was gone. However, his body regenerating gave him hope and excitement to finally explore the world he was thrown into.

He knew magic was at play. Maybe all his magical training had kickstarted the event. On the other hand, a God or Goddess might have intervened and helped him live his life again. As Callum thought these things, he slowly pushed his consciousness onto his body. At once, he could feel everything once more…Yet, his hopes were doused when he didn’t feel the beat of his heart.

Everything shattered after realizing that he was still dead. It meant that even though his body was back, he couldn't gain control over it as it looked like he’d just had a heart attack in the middle of a forest. Then, the image of two people flashed in his mind, and anger erupted in his psyche.

Although he hadn’t been counting, he knew that this day was his death anniversary. He died at the start of march, and spring was only coming after the calm of winter in this world. The only conclusion he got was that his ex-girlfriend and best friend had done something to his body with those lights, and it looked like his body’s regeneration was its effect.

The future looked darker as Callum thought about it some more. It meant that he couldn't truly die anymore. Even the memories he’d forgotten were back, making him aware of what he’d lost and more. However, his mind was preoccupied with fury before he realized this fact.

Callum spewed profanities in his mind, directing them towards the two people which caused his untimely demise. His mindscape reflected his anger, the scenery turning red from all the heat his head was building up to. Even his clones were affected, turning feral and attacking each other to gain an outlet. Yet his fury was not easily quelled this time.

The grass touching his dead body lost its luster, turning dry as Callum continued his furious holler against his murderers. His anger went on for days, and a thin trail of dark smoke emanated from his body, until he was brought back to reality by the stinging pain of crows eating his brain again.

The pain was the same as before. He thought that he’d grown used to the pain of being eaten, however, all his nerves were back, and his senses were heightened again. His mind had forgotten the pain of his body being torn to bits. It was his soul’s way of protecting his psyche, yet it also meant that he’d have to deal with being eaten again and again for the coming multiple years.

The crows cawed, Callum screamed, and the cycle began.