by Logan Castle
Not again! It’s the same as my nightmare!
No. I knew now. Regardless of the form of demented reality it assumed, what happened in my sleep only twenty-four hours ago was no nightmare. Just like what was happening to me right this instant. It also really occurred; there was simply no denying that fact any longer. The floodgates of my fragile mind burst open with thought after feverish thought.
Why is all this happening to me?! Where is this dark void taking me?! When will this ordeal end?! And what if it never does?! Could I be trapped here forever?
Experiencing a gamut of emotions, the questions in my mind continued to pile on top of each other. Then, I suddenly found myself recalling specific details of my nightmare from the night before…
The old man and his robot! Was I headed back to that castle only to be tortured all over again?! And what about Plum?! What would become of her?! Would she even notice I’m gone?! Can she even realize that the man sleeping next to her isn’t me?!
The thought of Plum in bed and waking up in the arms of a complete stranger stirred a whirlpool of worry deep inside my gut. A man wearing MY face, using MY name and MY voice… but he wasn’t me. The horrible thought of her naked body lying beside the imposter entered my mind. That was the final shove that dropped the floodgates guarding my sanity; it blew them completely off their hinges.
I let out a long, tormented scream. Feeling as if someone had picked me up and ripped me right down the center like a piece of paper, the last traces of my sanity were burning up quickly. But I did absolutely nothing to extinguish the fire. No, I was waving the white flag of surrender.
“PLUM!!!!” I screamed out one last time. The chilling shriek didn’t seem to end, but only echoed in the void of darkness that surrounded me. I began to see everything in duplicate. I just wanted to slip quietly into oblivion and let the pieces fall where they may.
After uttering the last moan of my rationality, I felt a sharp pain shooting through my body. It was so unexpected and intense that had I been lucid, it would have been too much to bear. Now, however, I was relegated to the existence of a wild, ferocious animal, seething with hate. The pain sweeping through me was no more than an annoyance.
Wild and wide-eyed, I searched for the source of my irritation. Grinding my teeth together, I quickly realized where it was coming from: my forearms. The same wrenching, twisting, aching pain that shot through every nerve ending in my body. I couldn’t see the tattoos underneath the long-sleeved, collared work shirt I was wearing but I knew they were moving. I could feel the clocks. Those damned clocks! They were both moving again.
Right then, I saw that my tattoos were the sources of my torment and the cause of every misfortune I suffered over the past couple of days up to this moment. My ongoing ascent upwards through swirling lights and black nothingness no longer occupied the forefront of my mind.
Those damned clocks!
My only desire now was for them to stop moving.
No! I wanted them gone!
With a snarl, I grasped my shirt at the base of my neck with both hands and ripped it straight down the center. The buttons flew outwards one-by-one and were instantly sucked upwards before disappearing with blinding speed. I clutched the ends of the shirt and wrestled to remove it, flailing my arms in the weightless atmosphere of the vacuum.
With my chest bared, the cold bite of gusting winds caused goosebumps to appear all over me, even along the nape of my neck. I took another look at my forearms and watched the clock hands and gears spin. Without a second thought, I brought my arms in closer, interlocking them as if I were about to fold them across my chest. Twisting both hands so that each one was positioned against the tattoo on the opposing arm, I curled my fingers against the skin, piercing it with my nails as if they were talons.
I dug my fingernails hard into ink-stained flesh.
The burning agony threatened to stop me, had I not been possessed of a singular purpose. I dug in deeper, pushing my nails further into the skin. I watched the blood spurting until the clocks were no longer visible beneath the crimson red. I didn’t know if the act of tearing my flesh apart could keep the clocks from working but I didn’t care any longer. In my fit of rage, I only thought of one thing: I didn’t want to see them anymore. I had to completely eradicate each tattoo. Each thrust and pull of my nails filled me with a rush of pure, unfiltered agony…and something else.
Pleasure.
In my warped, insane mind, the agony began to relieve my anxiety. It allowed me the much-needed opportunity to concentrate on something else entirely. Perhaps I was fast approaching the end phase of my broken mental state. With every scrape into my skin, I felt increasingly liberated from a terrible burden that was weighing heavily on me.
I didn’t notice what was happening around me until it was too late. Despite my ability to keep moving, it had grown to a leisurely pace. I slowed down so much that I could see things more clearly. The lights, which only moments before seemed to be illuminated streamers, weren’t actually lights at all.
They were TV monitors. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of them.
As they floated around me, spinning in an endlessly descending helix, a million different movies began to play before my eyes. Shifting my eyes mindlessly from screen to screen, I watched in stunned silence as a different storyline played out in each one.
A man knelt and wept at the grave of a loved one.
A young man and woman sat together, their hands clasped, on a beautiful summer day.
A child squealed as he pedaled his bike, glad to be free of his oppressive training wheels.
There was something about the screens that captivated me. My own downward spiral was briefly halted. As the screens cycled further downward and eventually slipped out of my view, new ones instantly appeared to take their place. I was mesmerized by each and every one. The sheer number of them made me regret having only two eyes to observe. I had an inkling that I was actually looking through a million different windows. Completely enthralled with the adventure, I barely felt my drool until it began dripping from my lips.
I’m not sure what prompted me to do what I did next – perhaps it was owing to my fascination with what I saw in front of me or maybe I was as awestruck as a toddler observing technology for the first time and naturally wanting to touch it – but I stretched both of my mangled forearms out to the screens dangling in front of me. As I did that, the air around me suddenly seemed heavier. Undeterred, I continued to stretch my fingers forwards.
I touched the screen and watched with unbridled fascination when my fingers disappeared into it. Suddenly, I felt myself being sucked forward. Instinctively, I tried to pull my arm back, but it was too late. The formidable force pulling me was far stronger than I.
Just as it seemed I would get completely sucked in, something soft and warm dropped onto my right shoulder. I had no idea what it might be, but it lightly grasped onto my shoulder. I was instantly basking in a sense of pure calm and the pain that was formerly wracking my body dissipated as well. My arms floated back down to my sides and my body collapsed as though I were being tucked into bed. I had an unexpected sense of nirvana, yet somehow managed to turn my head to see what it was.
There, perched on my shoulder, was a dark, slender hand.
I caught a glance of long, jet-black hair fluttering wildly in the air around me. I could feel the soft strands of it sweeping across my face, temporarily blinding me. I was suddenly struck with an overwhelming desire to sleep and my eyes grew very heavy. Summoning all the will I had left inside me, I forced my eyes open and beheld a face I would never forget.
It was a fleeting glance, sadly, but the pair of beautiful eyes that I saw radiated just about every color imaginable. They emitted the serenity and calmness of a peaceful ocean; and yet, they were also fiery, burning with the ferocity of the hottest supernova. I continued to gaze into them although my own eyes were closing by themselves. I barely glimpsed the small curvature of lips as
they rose to give me the subtlest smile.
“Wh-wh-who are… you?” I slurred, my body continuing to shut down.
Her hand lifted from my shoulder as she brought a single finger to her lips. The words that came from her mouth were said as a warning; but the sound of her voice was so enchanting and soothing that they might as well have been the lyrics of a lullaby.
“Shhhh… sleep now, Isaac Kent. You have suffered much and, unfortunately, there is more to come. You will need your rest for the fight that awaits you. Sleep now and take comfort knowing that we will see each other again.”
My eyes closed and I slept a deep and dreamless sleep. Finally!
*
A searing pain brought me back to the waking world, but I was careful not to immediately open my eyes.
I wanted to believe that I was just waking up from a long, terrible nightmare. I wished I were really home with Plum and that everything was okay. It comforted me to pretend that I was, even if only for a few short moments. I wasn’t home and I certainly wouldn’t be waking up next to Plum.
The pain stinging my arms reminded me of what I did to myself during my madness. The harsh feeling of my nails ripping into my skin and the sight of blood pouring from the wounds flashed through my mind. I recalled the voice of the mysterious woman who graciously brought me back from the dark abyss of despair. The touch of her hand and the gentle sweeping of her hair against my face. That sudden recollection became overpowering, despite the foggy memory. It felt like I was surfacing from under the ocean for a breath of much-needed air. My body involuntarily convulsed and my eyes snapped open.
Instead of an explosion of colors, all I saw was darkness. What the f…! Annoyed, I tried to lift a hand to rub my eyes only to discover that no matter how hard I struggled, I couldn’t budge either one of them. There was something rubbing on my wrists, holding them together; then I realized my legs were securely bound too. Eventually, it dawned on me that I was tied up, hand and foot, and my eyes were blindfolded.
“Wha…?!” I started, trying to raise myself up into a sitting position. I only succeeded in flopping around like a floundering fish.
Suddenly, I felt something hard and cold jabbing into my cheek before a gritty voice spoke from directly above me.
“Don’t you move, you motherfucker! If you so much as make a sound, I will blow your fucking head off!”
I became very still. Whoever that was, he was not playing around. The cold metal butted up against my cheek was enough for me to know. For an unknown amount of time, I lay there quietly. I was trying to concentrate on anything besides the pain and discomfort that came from my tightly trussed arms and legs. As the minutes dragged on into hours, that focus became a lot harder. The pain was no longer localized and soon began to radiate throughout my body. Eventually, it became too great to ignore. I could feel the sweat trickling underneath my arms and down my forehead. It started as a light drizzle, however, in no time at all, it turned into a torrential downpour of sweat. I suffered in absolute silence, enveloped in agony that wracked my whole body. I did not flinch in the least, lest the person to whom the voice belonged was still watching me. I had to tolerate the suffering silently for as long as I could physically or until I was otherwise directed.
Finally, when the pain became so intense that I nearly cried out in despair, I heard multiple footsteps approaching. They abruptly stopped in front of and around me. I lifted my head up although I couldn’t see a thing, as I was still covered by the blindfold. Whoever fastened it around my eyes wasn’t messing around. A loud groan escaped my lips when multiple arms grabbed me and lifted me up onto my knees. Then, more hands grabbed onto my feet before I was hoisted upwards into the air.
“What’s is this?! What’s going on?!” I shouted, hoping for an answer that never came.
I was carried for a good minute or so before being dropped unceremoniously onto a hard concrete floor. With my eyes still blindfolded, the impact on the ground caused a red flash to sweep across my vision. In response, I inadvertently uttered a pained cry from my lips. After several moments, my tolerance for the pain had increased enough for me to concentrate again. I immediately tapped into my other senses. I had to try and detect something, anything about my current surroundings.
The smell was the first thing that grabbed my attention. It stunk like rotting filth. The hot, rank air was so muggy that each breath I took burned the insides of my nostrils. I had no choice but to inhale it; and each time, desperately tried to keep myself from gagging. It reeked of waste and not the regular kind you would find in a trash can. No, this was the stench of human sweat, piss and shit all mixed up into one action-packed punch that flew right up into my face.
I heard voices, dozens of them, all shouting over each other. Everyone seemed to be engaged in what I could only describe as a very heated conversation. I tried to isolate a single voice amid the many speaking, but that turned out to be impossible. There was simply too much going on around me to accomplish anything like that.
I just laid there, taking it all in. I didn’t know how much time passed but eventually, I was picked up and placed on my knees. I felt a hard, violent tug at the blindfold. My head came forward as the blindfold was yanked rudely from my eyes. Taking a cautionary look around, I wasn’t at all prepared for what I saw.
A throng of men, women and even children were staring at me. A stone-faced expression was plastered on each one of their faces. As I stared wildly around, I noticed how dirty and disheveled their faces and clothes were, as if cleanliness were a long-forgotten virtue. Based solely on the stench of this place, perhaps it had become unattainable. Under the observance of so many unblinking eyes, my mouth fell open and my face grew red. Still, the people continued to stare at me. Hastily, I shut my mouth and averted my eyes from the multitude of faces so I could focus on my surroundings.
The room I knelt in was bare and without windows. The only source of light came from torches, which were placed strategically in the four corners of the room. The concrete walls on either side of me were rounded and extended all the way to the ceiling before continuing down the full length of what looked like an endless corridor. It felt as though we were all standing in the belly of an earthworm. I was kneeling on an elevated wooden platform, separate from the crowd who were standing just below me. I had an undesired bird’s eye view of all of them. There was a hissing sound followed by a loud eruption that sounded very much like a belch. All at once, the source of the rancid air filling my lungs became suddenly apparent. A thick, white steam rose from the floor on which the crowd was standing, briefly obscuring them from view.
I was inside a sewer!
Why a sewer?!
“What is this? What the hell is going on here?!” I shouted, pleading with anyone to answer. No one did.
Without waiting, I tried to wrestle my forearms free from their bonds. I winced but tried to ignore the gore of my self-inflicted wounds as the stinging pain shot through my whole body when my forearms rubbed against the taut rope. A split second into my struggling, I heard the undeniable sound of multiple automatic weapons being engaged. Immediately, I dropped my arms and ceased my struggle. From the corner of my eye, I could distinctly make out the forms of armed men standing directly behind me. I couldn’t see their faces but the weapons that were pointed at the back of my head felt real enough.
“Hey, listen, I don’t what this is all about,” I started. “As you can obviously see, I’m unarmed and can’t even move a muscle. Those guns seem a bit unnecessary.”
“Isaac Kent,” a deep voice sounded from the crowd. I glanced into the direction of where my name came from but the people just stood there vacantly, remaining completely still, and no one stepped forward to identify himself.
“Yes, that’s me,” I said, hesitantly as I addressed the whole room. “What is this? Where am I? Who are you people?”
“Take a good, long look at the faces of all the lives you’ve destroyed,” a man’s v
oice replied calmly. I still couldn’t pinpoint his location. “We are the people from whom you’ve purloined everything.” He paused for a moment as I glanced over the crowd, completely at a loss. “What? You don’t recognize your own handiwork?”
I was still searching madly for the owner of the voice but, whoever it was tried very hard not to be seen. And he was succeeding.
“I don’t understand! You have the wrong guy!” I protested as I shook my head. “I’m not who you think I am!” I cried out in anger. Yet the crowd remained stone-faced, completely unwavering as they stared at me.
“You are Isaac Kent.” This time, I managed to spot an approximate location. Smack dab in the very center of the crowd, amongst a sea of empty faces.
I kept my eyes trained on that spot. “Yes. But…”
“Then you are exactly whom we think you are. You are Isaac Kent, soon to be the former Supreme Leader of what was once the United States.”
“What?!” I yelled out in disbelief, shaking my head furiously and completely at a loss for words.
“You are the harbinger of death! Not just to those of us living in this underground hell,” the voice persisted, “but also to the countless billions around the world who have paid the ultimate price at the hands of you and your death squads.”
“Wha-wh-what?” I gasped, shaking my head because I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“We who have dared to hope that we could hold you accountable for your terrible crimes against humanity before the end came. And if nothing else, at least our prayers have been answered.”
“I’m telling you, I’m not the person you think I am!” I insisted. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!”
The man laughed cynically. “The Cyphers didn’t make it easy for us. We lost many souls in our efforts to capture you, but our relentless pursuit to bring you to justice has finally been rewarded.”