Chapter 1 - Nightmare Vision

The same dream repeated, time after time, day and night. Monotone, a world cast only in shades of gray. The dream world pulled V into itself; a captive to the events which would play out. Each and every time the dream was the same. Cast in the same role, over and over again. The entire bizarre production and its theatrics were false. Like the actors condemned to their play over and over again, she found herself living out the final act of this Mahn’s life. Yes. That is what they were. They were not Gobbos. This cursed nightmare began at the climax from which there was no waking from. A captive observer to what was already predetermined.

The world was strange, dream-like even as two figures moved about on the stage. A plot to kill entering its final steps with the two engaged in mock battle. A white-clad knight against the dark-clad witch. Good and Evil personified. The hero plunged his sword through the heart of the foul temptress, a decisive and mortal blow, the theatrics of the production triggered. The remnants of the broken world fell away in a brilliant burst of blinding holy light; the orchestra hit its climatic peak and abruptly ended. After the dramatic pause, the lights shut off and the curtain fell as the audience’s thunderous applause began. On the other side of the curtain, the hero smirked as he pulled the sword free and took a step back. The tip of the sword embedded in her heart. Even the gods themselves would have been deceived by such a simple plot. A fake killing with a fake sword made real a little deceit. Both actors playing their parts, who would suspect it was for real? It was the perfect final act and this time the curtain would not rise.

“You were splendid, Maelyn.” he looked at the prop sword with its now missing retractable tip, “You are free. And I will follow you soon enough.”

His knees wobbled as reality weighed upon him, he had killed her with this. Maelyn caught him and held him close. He took in the smell of vinyl and fresh leather from the costume, her rose perfume and of her perspiration. A soft whisper escaped her lips, “Thank you… my hero…”

She stumbled forward and pressed into him, her weight pulling him down to the floor of the stage. The two collapsed atop one another, a surge of warmth seeped through his faux armor. Staring into one another’s eyes, there was no more need for words as the blood gushed from her breast. With the last of her strength, she embraced him. There was to be no curtain call; panic already spread throughout the cast. The audience, blind to the truth, continued to applaud as Maelyn’s body was pulled away, as the sword was ripped from his hand. A moment later he was knocked unconscious. There was not enough time to intervene. She was free.

Time passed.

Confined to a dark and barren cell, the hero was stripped and bound with brilliant chains anchored into the ceiling. The four chains bound his wrists and ankles, forcing him to stand without rest. Denied food, water and rest. Deprived of light and sound. The puddle of blood and tears beneath him should have been of anguish, not joy. It was enough to break anyone. Repeating her name over and over, shifting in his bindings, on the edge of insanity, a final chance at ‘salvation’ was offered.

The heavy steel door unbolted with a thunderous snap and blinding light bore through his eyelids and overwhelmed his senses. Screaming in agony, the chains caught as he fell forward, but not enough to let him actually fall. Biting into his wrists, he groaned and struggled to stand, but his body and mind were at their limit.

“Confess.” The deep voice demanded.

“I saved her.” he began to weep.

“You killed her! Stabbed her through the heart! Maelyn is dead because of you! CONFESS!” The voice bellowed.

“She lives!” Fresh tears welled up and ran down his face, “She is free!”

The door slammed shut and the bolts engaged with another thunderous crack; the after image of the light slowly turning to red and fading back to darkness. Moments felt like hours, hours as if days. The pain ebbed and flowed, silence consumed him, and the void beckoned.

Such a cruel fate. That door to life is now forever closed. You would choose death?

Silence. Complete and utter silence, but the voice in his head was that of Maelyn!

By your hand, the deed was done. You killed her. And by your silence, condemn yourself to a far worse death. Was it worth it?

An imposter. They would invade his mind and defile his memory of her! He raised his head and uttered his final words, “Get out of my head and let me die.”

Your place in the next world has already been chosen. The memories of your sin and your defiance are yours to keep. May the burden of your sins cultivate some humility and repentance. For stealing a light of this world, suffer in the darkness of the next.

A thin smile graced his lips as the void took him.