Nothing lasts forever.
Relationships.
Wealth and success.
Fame.
You name it-- death comes for all things in due time, in the literal and metaphorical sense.
It's frightening for some.
Turns the legs to jelly.
Saps their motivation to do something they know will eventually crumble before their very eyes.
Their drive to push forward knowing the end result will always be the same.
Death to them and what they've created.
Others don't feel the same.
Obviously.
They push forward anyway.
Making their short lives worth something.
It's the difference between just walking through live, and living your life to the fullest.
Sylus likes to think of himself as the second option.
Masking things happen rather than coasting by.
Well...
As much as you can 'make happen' whilst being trapped ins a cage, that is.
Ten years later, living in a cage still sucks.
Especially when he's already outgrown it.
It was cramped when he was a kid, and even more craped now that he's on his way to adulthood.
Wow.
Putting it into perspective that way, he seriously needs to get out of this crummy place.
Because if he ends up spending his adult life in an already crappy and cramped cage, he's gonna...do absolutely nothing realistically.
But that's beside the point.
Mostly.
Yesterday was supposed to be the day Abbadon came and picked one of them to take into 'the backroom', but he never showed.
The newer kids rejoiced.
Sang songs of praise that've continued into today.
Hoping he either died, was caught, or left them behind.
And while any of those three options would be nice, Sylus knows better.
As does Rue.
His disappearance can only mean worse things are coming.
He's seen it before.
Once, a few years back.
Back then, Abbadon was a lot more mysterious.
Only ever showed up when it was time to get down to business.
Aka, experimenting on them under and or ripping them open while conscious for every gruesome detail of his stupid little 'process' as he likes to call it.
He disappeared for days without any explanation before or after, leaving them to fend for themselves.
The first day was great.
And the second.
Things quickly went down hill on the third day.
Hunger was at an all-time high.
For water, their only choice was to drink their own piss.
It tasted as awful as you'd imagine.
The fourth day was just as if not more awful.
His return came on the fifth day, but only after many of them --seven to be exact-- unfortunately passed away.
That wasn't the worst part, surprisingly.
No.
The worst part came afterward.
His brutality the following days knew no bounds.
He was unfathomably cruel and unjust.
Those who made it through were rewarded with scars and memories that haunt them to this very day, and the many who didn't were allowed to escape this hell-hole.
Just not with their lives.
He doubts something similar will happen again.
Abbadon is different now.
For better or worse, Sylus isn't entirely sure-- but he is changed.
But something is going to happen.
That he's sure about.
Him leaving for a day is just too out of the ordinary.
It's only a matter of time before something happens.
He's waiting for it.
Itching for it.
Better to get things over with quicker rather than later.
He looks to Rue.
She's just as uneasy.
Without a doubt remembering what'd transpired all those years ago.
And can only hope nothing similar will ever happen again.
He opens his mouth but nothing comes out.
Reaching out for her.
What for, he isn't sure.
To tell her that everything is going to be okay, that things are different now, or rather to receive the reassurance himself. For her to tell him what he wants to tell her.
Either one works for him.
But there's not enough time.
The door opens.
And out steps Abbadon.
His hair is matted.
Eyes red and puffy.
Probably enduring a sleepless night.
That's never good.
He staggers toward them like a drunken sailor-- clearly under the influence.
Even worse.
His hand raises.
And points to Sylus out of all of them.
Of course he does.
He's not even surprised, honestly.
Its always him or one of the younger kids.
At least Rue is relatively safe.
For now.
But hopefully longer.
There's no telling when or if things will or won't change.
He can do nothing but pray that they won't.
Abbadon opens the cage.
Their eyes meet and Sylus dares not to look away.
Sylus is extra careful when exiting.
Abbadon is never alone.
Even when you might think otherwise.
He's seen someone make that mistake before.
No idea what the guys name was because he died before they could exchange pleasantries, but when his cage was opened, he immediately tried to attack Abbadon.
Something all of them want to do or have wanted to do at some point, but knew better than to try doing.
He, apparently, did not know better.
But quickly found out.
Abbadon's minions, the 'B-Force' as they've nicknamed them, swooped down from out of the shadows and attacked-- ripping him to shreds before much damage could be done.
A perfect demonstration of what not to do for those who had similar ideas in their heads.
And Sylus doesn't plan on making that same mistake.
Not with Rue watching.
Her eyes filled with worry latch onto them.
Paying close attention to his every move.
"Come on- we don't have all day," laughs Abbadon, but there's nothing behind his eyes.
Just emptiness.
"I'm going."
Sylus hurries out, moving quickly.
His head snaps to Rue, nodding.
He doesn't need to say much. She already understands.
'Everything is going to be okay,' says both his eyes and body language.
He makes sure to bury the worry fermenting in his mind.
It's always going to be around.
Especially in times like these.
Creeping in the back, sowing seeds of doubt and negativity.
But Sylus won't show it.
Because then Rue would worry.
She might get scared. Frightened, even.
And he can't let that happen.
"I have to go along with it."
He's got to.
He walks alongside Abbadon, giving no signs that might allude to something being wrong.
But keeps his attention mostly on Rue.
Mouthing words to each other.
I love you, and I miss you's.
Each one feels more final than the last, though he has no idea why.
Maybe he does in actuality.
And he just doesn't want to admit it.
But the world?
It doesn't care what he does or doesn't want to admit.
No.
Because it'll force you to accept the truth either way.
Regardless of the games one might try and play to avoid the crushing weight of finality.
He says one last 'I love you' before facing forward. Placing his eyes and attention to what's coming.
The journey isn't so scary anymore.
Not really.
He's already been in this situation before.
Thousands of times, in fact.
Kinda dilutes the whole experience, honestly.
"You're a day late," says Sylus.
"I was busy." He responds simply.
"Doing what?" The boy furrows his eyebrows.
"Blowing up the universe." Abbadon plays close attention to Sylus' facial expressions.
He's completely unfazed.
Already accustomed to his antics.
The older man pats him on the shoulder with another laugh. This one seems more genuine, yet still fake in an unnerving way.
"I'm joking."
Sylus rolls his eyes. "I knew that."
"You're always joking," he adds with a hint of bitterness laid bare in his defensive tone.
Abbadon shrugs.
It's his favorite pastime.
Besides-- who doesn't like a good joke every now and then?
Apparently not Sylus.
"Lighten up. Try taking a joke for once."
Maybe if they were funny, he might be able to.
But as of right now, that's not possible.
It's weird.
In moments like these, he almost forgets what kind of man he is.
The horrors and atrocities Abbadon has committed. Some towards him, but most towards others he knows or...used to know.
He makes jokes as anyone else does.
Laughs.
Engages in drinking and other accepted ways of passing the time and escaping the monotony of everyday life.
Yet in the end couldn't be further from the average joe.
From him.
They come to the usual stop.
Abbadon opens the door and he steps inside.
Sylus needs not to be told what to do.
He already knows.
Get on the gurney.
Strap himself down.
And wait for the inevitable 'get cut open and treated like a lab-rat' moment. The usual.
He braces himself-- expecting it any moment now.
But nothing comes.
At least, not in the way he expected.
Abbadon toys with a syringe.
Filled with a different color than usual.
He's changing things up.
And of course, he's his first test subject.
"Trying something new today?"
He chuckles. "Always so observant-- but yes."
"Its what you've been working on, no?"
"Surprisingly incorrect. Unexpected from you, Sylus."
He grits his teeth.
There it goes.
That same 'fatherly' language he loves to use when 'subtly' putting him down.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?" he raises up slightly. Visibly upset at the slightest bit of challenge to his authority.
Anyone else would've backed down.
Lowered their tone.
Ababdon puffs out his chest like a lion roaring, fully knowing he holds all of the cards.
He doesn't care.
They've danced like this for years.
Nothing came of it before, and nothing will now.
He's not afraid.
"Talk to me like some sort of disappointed father-- you don't get to do that."
"What else would I be, but a father?"
The man's absurd.
Absurd if that's how he sees himself.
And even more-so with his following statement. "I've been around longer than your own father has."
Its not just absurd but also insulting.
Sylus acts immediately, jerking violently at the self-inflicted restraints that kept him held down no matter how hard he thrashed against them.
"Don't ever say something like that again."
His voice drips with an uncontainable venom.
Abbadon pays him no mind.
Just saying whatever possible to get under his skin.
And it's clearly working.
Always does.
He's honestly not sure why he even bothers anymore.
"Feisty." Abbadon adds cat-noises afterward.
How this is the same man from all those years ago, he really has no idea.
"But all of that is besides the point-- if everything goes as intended today, there's a good chance that we'll be witnessing history. Me as the genius who changed the world, and you as the willing participant."
They exchange a look.
Silence.
Then both break into fits of laughter.
'Willing participant' is quite the stretch, even for someone typically regarded as delusional.
"Good one."
"Not my best work, but I'll take it."
That he can agree on.
"So, what's on the menu for today? Gonna sedate me so you can cut me open while I watch? Or are things going to actually change for once?'
"I said I was trying something new," he replies with a hint of annoyance.
"You said that last time, though. But I'll take your word for it."
He's not entirely wrong.
Though, Abbadon ignores that.
To him the boy is wrong. And that's all that matters.
"Watch and see."
He pushes the needle through his skin, injecting him with a foreign substance.
Drowsiness comes with haste.
Okay.
That's weird.
Whatever this is, it's gotta kick to it for sure.
Abbadon towers over him.
That goofy and pitiful exterior melting away in an instant.
There he is.
The real Abbadon.
Not the mask he hides behind for those recently brought in.
His true self -- the one that only appears during times like these.
The only version of him he knows.
A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.
It's frighteningly genuine.
His body relaxes.
Against Sylus' wishes. But that's nothing new.
Many things happen without his 'wishes' or consent.
You learn to get used to them as they continue to happen to you over the course of many years.
It doesn't take long before that drowsiness turns into pure exhaustion.
His eyes are barely able to be kept open.
Just hanging along for the shortly ending ride.
Time to sleep.
Without any warning or indication, he passes out on the spot.
Leaving Abbadon unattended with his body.
***
Sand.
Everywhere-- as far as his eyes can see.
As shining sun.
Sparkly, twinkling stars hang in the sky like puppets on a string.
Okay-- where the hell is he?
Sylus stands up, dusting himself free to the best of his abilities.
Is this some kind of dream?
Maybe...
If he is dreaming then...
He pinches himself as hard as he can.
Ow.
Nothing happened.
Still here.
So this might not be a dream.
Or the whole 'pinch yourself to wake up from a dream' thing is bull-crap.
Meh.
Either way, what now?
...
He jumps for the first time in ten years.
Stretches his limbs and joints.
Runs around till exhaustion hits like a truck.
Then he sits down, gathers energy, and then does it all over again.
It's fun getting tired.
Throwing yourself in sand and rolling around as if it were snow.
For the first time in years...
He's free.
"It's everything I've ever wanted."
"...I just wish Rue were here."
The adrenaline slowly wears off.
His heart-rate goes back to normal.
He sits down.
Admiring the shining stars.
Breathing in the fresh air.
He has to wonder though.
Is this the default?
Is this what everyone else experiences in their day-to-day walk through life?
...What he used to experience all those years ago?
He can't explain how it feels to be here.
What it means to breathe in real air. Or, real oxygen he should say instead.
To not be couped up inside of a cage.
To run around and experience a taste, a sliver of freedom.
But he can summarize his feelings to the best of his abilities.
It's amazing.
Wonderful.
The best, great, all of those and more.
Yet it can't fill the emptiness in his heart.
The pit of nothingness that yearns for more.
Not for an escape or a dream of an escape.
But for change.
Real change.
This is but an appetizer to calm his raging stomach down, rather than a full-course meal.
And yes, it's true that he wants out-- out of his unfortunate circumstances of being a slave.
A pet.
A guinea pig.
But, "This isn't what I wanted. I want out with my friends, with my girlfriend, to find my parents and finally get the chance to live my life, not be stuck in a...sand dimension, or wherever I am."
"Though, it's better than nothing I suppose."
It is nice.
For now.
He leans back into the sand, sighing heavily.
"Another one?"
Hold on a sec.
Who's that?
Is he imagining things?
"Why did that random voice just sound like..."
"How do y'all keep getting lost here? It's like a new one of us every week."
"...Me?"
Sylus jumps to his feet, his heart racing with uncertainty.
He turns left-- nothing.
Then right, the same.
He spins around.
"Oh my god."
"It's me."
Well, not exactly.
They're almost identical, but with some obvious differences.
Brown versus green eyes, pale versus darker (but still in the realm of being 'tan') skin --he probably gets out more than he does-- as well a few other noticeable details.
But make no mistake.
The boy standing before him is himself.
"Am I tripping?"
The other him rolls his eyes.
Then sighs with quite the attitude.
Feisty little thing.
Is this really what he looks like?
"Here we go again-- no, you're not 'tripping' --whatever that means-- I'm you and you're me, no this isn't a dream, yes you're stuck here and no you probably aren't getting out of here regardless of what you might think."'
Sylus blinks.
"Err..I wasn't even gonna ask all of that."
"Oh...huh. That's usually what the new versions of us tend to ask on their first day."
"Nah-- well, while we're at it, where are we, exactly? And how are you meeting so many different, uh... versions of us?"
"Oh yeah, almost forgot to mention those two points-- so basically you're trapped in a dimension inside of your brain called the 'Mind-Scape' though it technically doesn't have an actual name."
Official or not, that's a stupid name.
"And what's-"
"Hold up me, I'm not finished yet. So basically think of your Mind-Scape as the gap between your subconscious and your unconscious that kind of sits in the middle of them, holdin' them together. Take the whole thing away, even accidentally, and the whole thing basically collapses."
"But it's more than that. Everyone has their own, unique Mind-Scape, right? And theirs act as a gateway to the other versions of you across every world and differing timeline."
"So it's both the glue holding together your subconscious and unconscious, and a portal between worlds and times. But --yes, another one-- it's not just that. Again. Most people use theirs as a training tool, but typically accompanied with a professional guide. They're paid pretty handsomely, my uncle was one."
Uncle?
They have an uncle?
"You can learn pretty much anything and do anything here with your only limitation being your imagination, and have those skills and all of that knowledge gained essentially...transfer over into your real life."
Holy exposition dump.
"You understand all of that?"
"Err...yeah, most of it. So, how exactly are we, or I in specific, stuck here?"
"Oh, that's easy. Without a guide or having intimate knowledge on not only what universe or timeline you're originally from, as well how to hot-wire your consciousness and force it out of your Mind-Scape..."
"You're screwed. Correct?"
He nods along.
"Pretty much. But hey, at least you won't be lonely during your stay here."
Why's he talking like this is some kind of vacation spot, and not another prison?
"Right...well, I got a lot to get back to, especially my girlfriend, so..."
"Girlfriend? Let me guess-- Luna?"
Sylus looks at him funny. "Uh, no? Her name is Rue, should I know who Luna is?"
"Really? Most of us have a Luna. How old are you, 'cause you look like you're still in high-school. How is that going for you, by the way? Cause from what I'm hearing, we all struggled or are struggling with that."
"I'm sixteen, but I haven't exactly...been to high-school, or any form of school, for that matter."
"Seriously? That's weird. Your world post-apocalyptic or something? Is it over-run with zombies? Please tell me it's zombies, I haven't met anyone from a zombie world yet. But that's probably a good thing."
Should he know what a zombie is?
Best not to ask and sound like an idiot if its common knowledge.
"Nah, I've been stuck in a cage for a decade."
That's not much better.
Especially with someone --technically himself-- that he just met a minute ago.
"Uh...is that some sort of sarcasm or some kind of dark-humor? Like, what do you mean you've been stuck in a cage for a decade?"
"Okay, so..."
-One super long and intricate explanation later
"That's basically everything."
His alternate self stares at him like a deer caught in headlights, his jaw hung agape.
"That's...wow, and I thought some of us had it bad."
"What-- do you guys not have an Abbadon on your worlds?"
This is going to sound bad.
Like really bad.
And he knows its going to be a no judging by the horrified expression he's wearing, but would it be so bad to wish that they might?
To know he's not alone in his struggles?
That someone else has dealt with it, or is currently dealing with it?
It probably does sound bad.
Selfish, even.
But he can't help himself.
He can't deny himself the ability to wonder.
"Uh, no? I've been stuck here a long time man, one of the longest out of everyone minus the old farts, and never once heard the name 'Abbadon' not even in passing, and I've talked to pretty much everyone here. Definitely don't have one on my world either. At least, not one I've met before."
...
"So I'm the only one stuck living in a cage at the hands of an evil scientist?"
"Yup. You got hoed, man."
He tries his best to hide his disappointment.
He should be happy that they haven't.
Happy that his other versions are happy. That they got the chance to live their lives before eventually being stuck here.
But he's not.
He can't be.
Because now, the question begs to be asked-- why not them? Why just him?
What did he do so wrong that no one else across far and wide has?
Why did he have to be the unlucky one? The one who has to suffer? It's not fair.
But nothing ever is.
'Cause it's not fair that he's here either. Doesn't stop the one above from pulling the strings to get him here, though.
"Well that's just great."
"But if all of that is waiting for you back home, why in the world are you trying to get back there?"
"I don't want to go back, not really, but I have to get home to my girlfriend. We just started dating, and I can't afford to screw things up. And someone has to protect the younger kids from what will inevitably happen if I don't return to being Abbadon's guinea-pig."
"Don't take this the wrong way-- though, I'd understand if you did-- I one-hundred percent get why you want to go back...but after everything that's happened, should you really?"
"What do you mean?"
"You suffered for ten, long years. Kids and girlfriend aside, you deserve the chance to be free, away from Abbadon and his experiments."
"I don't think I would stay here, honestly. Not that I have much of a choice, but even if I did, I just can't, I couldn't love with myself if I left them alone with such a monster. If I left her alone with that monster."
"I get that, well I really don't, but you're a lot more selfless than I am."
Hardly.
Selfless isn't close to being the right word.
"A lot stupider," Sylus corrects him-- grumbling along the way.
"That too..."
He snaps his fingers. "Ah, wait I almost forgot. What's your name, mini me?"
"Sylus. You?"
"Your names stupid."
"How are you gonna hate on my name, but then not say yours?"
He hesitates for a moment.
His is probably stupid too.
Not that Sylus is a stupid name.
Obviously not.
"...Churro."
Sylus snorts. "You're serious?"
"Listen man, I can't help what my parents named me."
"Fair, but you chose to hate on mine first, a completely normal name."
"Eh..."
"You're a moron."
Churro looks taken aback-- recoiling dramatically. "I'm literally you. You're basically calling yourself a moron."
"Not the same thing. Two different universes, two different education systems and thus two different levels of intelligence."
"...But you haven't even scratched the surface of education."
He clicks his tongue. "Touche."
"So what do you even do around here? Besides sit around and admire the scenery?"
"Didn't I tell you the only limit in this place is your imagination?" In the palm of his hand appears a small cake, which he promptly shoves down his gullet. "What made you think there was nothing to do?"
"I thought that was hyperbole..." he thinks to himself, a little embarrassed, admittedly.
"But on a more serious note, no, not really. I keep to myself most days, as you're either one of Ivis' lackey's, or you're a drifter-- like me."
"Uhh..."
"Let me guess. Who's Ivis? One of the only names you need to know around here." God, Churro sounds corny sometimes. Maybe it's just him.
Actually, that's a good point.
Is this what he sounds like to everyone else?
If so, how in the world did he get a girlfriend?
His charming personality, probably.
...That's sarcasm if you couldn't tell.
"He leads a sort of 'cult'-- that's not what most people call it, but it's what I call what they've got going on in their little tucked away mansion-- of, obviously ourselves, that are pretty obsessed with getting out of here and returning back to their universes. Which would be normal, if not for their extreme methods."
"Do I even wanna know what those 'extreme methods' are?"
"Compared to what Abbadon has done, they'll probably look tame in comparison, but that doesn't make them and what they do any less bad. I haven't seen any of this happen for myself, because I usually try my best not to spend much time with them, but I've heard stories of them sacrificing each other to Ivis, feasting on their own blood, rituals, all of the works."
Err...
Listen.
Abbadon is scum at the bottom of your shoe.
He's awful.
Terrible.
Has done and will continue to do reprehensible things. There's no doubt about that.
He's witnessed his cruelty first-hand, and through the experiences of others. Some friends some loved ones, and others simply cell-mates.
But sacrificing?
Sacrificing...is a little bit of a step-up compared to some of the things Abbadon has done.
Because he's done a lot. Obviously-- he just said that.
But sacrificing people, especially alternate versions of yourself, and then drinking their blood, is definitely crazy.
Not going to say Ivis and his little cult following are worse than Abbadon...but he definitely has some competition.
"How does human sacrifice factor into getting out of the Mind-Scape?"
"It doesn't. From what I know about him and his cult rituals, that's their initiation process. To show, to prove, that they're really about the 'cause' and not just blabbing their mouths."
"The rest is probably far worse than I've heard, because most of the bad stuff is kept in-house, and those who know aren't exactly the most sane people you wanna talk to."
"...What if I do want to talk to them? Or, at least, one of them? To see how far along they are with getting out of here?"
"Then I'd call you a moron."
"Thought we already established we can't call each other a moron without calling ourselves a moron."
"I'm willing to accept that."
Sylus laughs a little.
"Are you serious? About going?"
He nods.
"Then I'll lead the way. But nothing more than that."
"Alright. Then let's go. I'm not sure how much time I have left."