A Spark off the Stone- Prologue

in #pulprev5 years ago (edited)

crystal-3326161_1920.png

Nothing.

All around it, was nothing.

Within himself, millions upon millions of dormant voices lay, squirming and writhing in their own abyss. Every once in a while, either once a minute or once every million years, one of those dormant voices would brush against him, and hundreds of images of a world not his own would flash across his retinas, a rusted spike covered in the neurotoxin of a distant land.

He looked forward to those moments, because at least it wasn't the abyss.

When he first arrived, his own memories had still been fresh, steaming within his skull and looking for answers. He'd thrashed around, reaching as far as he could with what he assumed were his hands and legs, trying to feel the edges, to find something other than, well, nothing, but although he knew he was moving his limbs, there was no air resistance, no "swoosh" or feeling of coolness.

There was nothing, there would always be nothing, and nothing is what he would eventually become.

Yes, it was true- he could feel the abyss slowly taking hold, leeching his feelings, experiences, emotions- HIM- out. It was how it fed, how it continued to exist.

And once it was finished, it would toss his depleted husk away.

And so he looked forward to those painful shocks of reality, of BEING, because that was the only thing that kept him going. Despite everything, the one thing the abyss struggled to take was his human resolve.

But then he felt a new spark. It wasn't pain, no...it was recognition. He felt...something, someONE, pass through him. He contracted whatever entity his consciousness inhabited, holding onto this thing for dear life, and hundreds of memories flooded his mind- warm, familiar. This one was human. Not only was it human, but it was one he knew. He was there, and so was the other one, and an infant girl, and, and,

and SHE was there.

The one thing he'd missed most of all in this desolate place.

The consciousness he'd grasped began to slip, and he squeezed tighter, afraid of letting the one good thing in this horrid place leave him, and he felt the entity cry out in pain, felt HIM cry out in pain.

The other one, the other voice, slowly began to filter into his head as he squeezed, tighter and tighter, absorbing this other being into himself, keeping it from moving. He felt the weak, emaciated being shriek as the last bit of his ego vanished and joined him, forced into a space and into a mind that wasn't his.

"Hello, old friend," he mumbled, barely able to choke the words past the lump forming in his throat and chest.

If he had tear ducts, he would be sobbing.

"Don't...please...I have no body...I am weak..."

"Shhh, shhh, I know. I have to keep you here, I have to keep you safe, from the dark, you see. The dark, it will consume us all. You're the only one I have left, don't you get it? Stay with me, Professor, stay with me..."

image source: https://pixabay.com/illustrations/crystal-purple-gem-mineral-stone-3326161/

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Very nice piece @noughtshayde. Thanks for sharing.
We hope to see more of your work here. Just read that you're back again. Welcome back :)

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