Empty Chains ✔️ | #ONC2019

| Chapt. One | Pure |

Hunger grips my stomach, reminding me of the truth behind sensation. Different barks of starvation ripple from one side to another, an aggressive brawl consuming what I once thought to be a simple inclination. But that isn't even the beginning.

The tendons and muscles I'd accumulated throughout my life are fragile. The tiniest flinch could make me scream.

My stomach growls again and my arms seize a bit beside me. Locking them to my waist, I feel out my surroundings.

A polished, slick surface greets my skin. Smooth at first, it almost feels so clean one would mistake it for wet. I brace for the worst and open my eyes.

No hospital. No obnoxious beeping or intrusive doctors telling my parents the situation. No one asking for spare parts. Sick knowing coils deep inside my check and I look down. A sleek black marble beneath me stretches eons in all directions, the light fading all around like a horrible night terror. Nothing but empty seclusion.

Pick a direction.

The words graze my consciousness in a monotonous whisper.

I use as little strength as possible to sit up, hissing through gritted teeth when pain bursts through my nerves. A lingering sting haunts me, but my eyes are already searching each path before me.

There are no hallways, simply glowing paths of white light reflecting along every midnight tile. One in each of four directions. All of them lit with the same pure aura, none more special than the other.

None of my senses pick up on anything else. No sounds or smells, not even the faintest hint or clue as to which direction I should take.

On hands and knees, I manage to right myself before taking a step on both legs. Vertigo washes over me, blurring my vision and almost throwing my momentum back onto the harsh surface.

I slowly spin around, establishing that every pathway is indeed the same before settling on the one in front of me. The lights behind me open up, the trails vanishing. Down a few feet, a familiar brunette male steps forward with an outstretched hand and a shy smile. "Come on, Holiday."

His voice chimes perfectly, echoing in the large expanse.

It felt too perfect, surreal.

"What are you doing here, Nathan?"

"I've come to see you off, of course. No one should go through this alone, not even you."

My eyes narrow in on him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Something similar to amusement flickers there, beneath the surface of his eyes. "You've always had that voice in the back of your head telling you you're wrong, telling you that you're not good enough. Who's really to say what anyone deserves? We'll simply have to see when you reach Judgment."

Judgment.

The sound is enough to burn my throat.

This isn't a silly dream or some plastic heaven made to bring my soul joy and peace. I still have to pass through the gates or whatever tribulations this world demands of me. Perhaps even discover if a particular religion stands to reality. Yet, Nathan's appearance begins to darken and withdraw.

I take a step back but the other walkways refuse to show themselves, only my ex-boyfriend stepping closer and closer.

Glancing over my shoulder, I notice something flicker off in the distance and make a split-second decision to run. Run from Nathan. Run from the replica of the man I used to love, his soul couldn't possibly be here with me. He is alive or so I would hope.