It was that same room as always, big enough for two but with only one bed. It generated a feeling of familiarity that soothes the soul. The old walls and dusty corners, the window between the pair of desks, the stained wooden floor that could use a wax polish but no one would take care of it. The small closet filled to the brim with boxes and all kinds of clothes, of which I often used the first item from each drawer, while the rest had not seen the light in a while; the modest bathroom with all the necessities, a single toothbrush, and a variety of hair products that I always stopped using halfway through, and so on.
There, in that familiar room, was a dark-haired boy, disheveled, like roots on the pillow; eyes tightly wrapped and folded unto themselves.
It was me, lights out, asleep but not dreaming. Or maybe I was, as I suddenly woke up sweating. "What happened? Where am I?" I asked without certainty that someone would answer.
I studied my bedroom, as if looking for something. It was dark, but enough light came in from outside to distinguish a figure standing at the edge of the bed. I rubbed my eyes and resumed the rapid inspection, jumping from one end to the other with my gaze. It took no more than three seconds until I found it, what I was looking for.
A few steps away, now closer to the door than the bed, was Maika with her back to me. Seeing her, the anxiety that plagued my heart finally let me put it to rest. I called her name casually, but I could not hide the joy in my voice.
—Maika, what a relief. You're okay —I said to the incredible woman whom I could always trust—. Were you the one who brought me back to the dorm? I apologize for being so useless —I kept talking, but there was no answer, not even a reaction from her—. I know I'm a burden, I'm sorry, Maika.
She continued to ignore me. That hurt a lot. The version of me that was on the bed lowered my head and crumpled the sheet that covered me. A rumbling sound like small objects being agitated reached my ears, and instinctively, I raised my gaze again. The sound repeated once more as Maika turned towards me. When I saw her, every cell of my body wanted to run away, if not for some law of mass conservation which name's eluded my memory right now. I, on the other hand, retreated as far as I could to the headboard of the bed. The busy movement of my feet kicking the bed to pull the tight sheets threw them off, leaving the bed and me exposed.
Maika, standing still, blocking the door, half-covered by the shadows of the dark room, was looking in my direction, but could you call that looking?
In the place where her eyes should be, two huge black holes, completely dark, had been carved in a spiral shape; the pair of black holes, the singularity continued to spin. Nothing could ever escape from there, not even tears. But the most striking thing, what scared me the most for some reason, was the box hanging between her hands. It was there, exposing itself to me, reproachful, disappointed.
—Maika… Please. No. Please. Don't do it. Nooo! —I begged her not to open it. Anything but that. I could bear anything but that. The last thing I wanted was for her to see the contents of that, a simple, just a simple shoe size brown cardboard box.
Maika turned and left the room through the wooden door without answering me or even speaking to me once. Without thinking, driven by an eager force, I followed her.
As I crossed the framed portal, I encountered a strange and lonely place, and Maika was nowhere to be found. The only elements present were me, the door I just crossed, and a long series of descending stairs. Driven by the same force, strange and involuntary, I slowly descended the stairs.
It was a narrow passageway that every fifteen, more or less, steps took a sharp turn in another direction, but always descending. After a few minutes —were they minutes or hours? I wouldn't know. But what I can say for sure is that I walked for a good while if there was such a thing as "time" here—, eventually, I reached a room more open compared to the suffocating descending hallway.
It was lit by a pair of symmetrical torches located at the other end, there was yellowish earth scattered everywhere as if a sand storm had passed through here recently. Scattered randomly, a series of helmets, pickaxes, and wet maps. And in the center of it all, slightly covered by the soil and water, but definitely the most eye-catching item of all, a large door embedded in the ground.
Aiden, I, entered the room, kicking dirt, until I reached the door in the middle. It lacked handles, but there were a pair of noticeable holes, one on each door side, surrounded by a circle of gold that was the perfect size for a human hand to fit.
I was hesitant at first, but "it" been the only means of advancing left me no choice. I inserted my hands into the cavities and felt around for any sort of mechanism. The sensation was repulsive and warm; a mixture of moist and viscous, like feeling fresh minced meat.
I found a sort of pulley in the hole, and pulled it to take my hands out. Immediately and instinctively, I stepped away from the door. It opened inward, the interior was covered by a veil of darkness in which I could see my own distorted image reflected, however.
There's no other way, I thought, mustered up my courage and jumped-in. I fell for just a moment that felt like an eternity. The sensation was similar to taking a misstep when climbing stairs, thinking there was another step, but you've already reached the top. I looked up as I fell and couldn't see the door anymore, just the channel of darkness with twinkling lights on the sides, like a clear night sky. It was charming to the point of dumbfounding me.
Before I could process all that, I had landed on what seemed like a common and ordinary train platform. The feeling of strangeness came when I looked down and saw my hand. No. It wasn't just my hand, in fact, the rest of my body was the same. This strange phenomenon. Everything that made up "Aiden" had this geometric quality or rocky texture. I could barely recognize myself. It caused a feeling of strangeness very different from what I had felt until that point; I felt discomfort, but, no matter how strange it may sound, it didn't spark anguish in me. Why be anguished by something inevitable? That feeling provoked deep curiosity about my current appearance.
Soon a sea of people entered the station, all with the same polygon appearance, like residents of a retro video game. They went about their business, ignoring the confused boy, me, in the middle of the platform. The train arrived and everyone started boarding, returning the platform to its solitary state, everyone but one.
It was complicated to detail his appearance, as like me, he had the appearance of a character from a PlayStation1 game. What I could tell of the textures was that he was wearing a black shirt, jeans, and a pair of black sneakers. His face, on the other hand, I couldn't distinguish at all. It was simply impossible. "Why?" I mumbled. Beyond the textures, his face was covered in hyper detailed insects, many of them, crawling and creaking over the face of this person.
The noise of the next train approaching the platform violently stabbed the false calm of the station. The black shirt boy turned in the direction of the sound. We could see the conductor's car approaching. With each repetition of the loud crash between the wheels and the tracks, I felt my heart sinking a little more.
He turned to look at me, the train sounded closer and faster, and without saying a single word, he jumped onto the tracks. I tried to say something, to shout for him to stop, to say anything, but the words got stuck in my throat. Milliseconds before the impact, I even closed my eyes. I couldn't face the horror. And when I opened them, I was alone, there was no platform, no train, no soul in the neighborhood, just a white and dense fog.
In that place whiter and thicker than snow, there was me, alone again.
—AAAAAAAAHHHAHHAHGGDDFFFAAGHHHH!!!!! HAAAAAAAHHGGG!!!? AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
In that suffocating cloud, I screamed. I screamed with all the might the vocal cords allowed. Without rhythm nor sense, just shouted and howl, nothing more. I forced my jaw so much that the joints came off, and my muscles tore, only to return to normal after a second, my face, at least, to break again with the next howl. It was like a monster that regenerated to feel the pain again.
Then, an unpleasant sensation along my neck took hold of my senses, as if every nerve in the body had been reprogrammed to end there, feeling an invisible saw, slowly, certainly taking its time, as it begins to cut.
I saw me try to stop it with both hands, with such desperation that I ended up strangling myself. In anguish, without knowing how to stop the torture, I drag my fingers to my face only to find out that I can't feel the touch on my pores, on my lips, on my nose, or on my eyes. I groped around like a homeless person and all I could feel was the cold contact of my fingers with a mask. With much effort, burring my nails as best I could in the mask, losing a couple of nails in the process, I managed to tear it off.
The mortifying sensation in my throat stopped and without considering who or what it was, I threw the mask with all my might to the ground, right in front of me. It broke into a thousand pieces, which in turn formed dozens of small and sharp splinters that rushed towards me. Somehow I manage to dodge them and run off through the nebula.
On all sides, wherever you looked, the annoying and heavy fog got in the way. I could be heading towards a cliff, and the only positive thing was that I wouldn't know until the moment of the fall.
With difficulty, a maximum of two meters in front was the most that could be seen. Besides the person panting for breath avoiding the lethal projectiles of a kind of dark metal, the only divisible thing, barely recognizable by its contours, were a series of tall buildings and ominous towers in the distance; like those of an unfinished drawing. No matter how much I advanced, the bare structures gave no sign of getting closer.
—Curses! —I thought and, without realizing, said it out loud—. Am I really that pathetic? All I can do is run away, hide under Maika's skirt, let them protect me, save me, and think of stupid ideas that only put everyone's life at risk.
Another group of sharp iron spikes came looking for my back, but by crouching down and rolling on the ground I managed to dodge them, almost perfectly, as one grazed my back. The burning sensation turned out to be a discomfort greater than I expected, ruining the rhythm of my breathing, tiring me even more while I flee. That's when I thought, "Enough is enough. Damn bastard." I couldn't stand one more second of this torture. Seeing my shaking hands for one more second will drive me crazy, I thought.
—Yes, I can be useless, I may have believed I was special because miraculously, thanks to others, and with a supposed power that I can't even use, I survived an encounter with a wizard and an angel. Great thing, pure luck! I know it, my body knows it, I'm sure everyone knows it. That's why I'm so frightened. That's why I tremble like a child who is afraid of the dark when my friends mention paranormal things; why I freeze and lose all reasoning when I'm facing a vampire. I'm a bit of a coward, I admit it, damn it. But enough is enough. If I keep this up, what am I going to do with all this anger? All this suppressed hatred towards myself…