The light wavered frightfully around the four cornered cell. Only I had the courage to set foot on the juggernauted forces of the supernatural. A brave Jimmy Woodser I was, whilst the weak and battered mortal shivered in despair, I stared straight in the eyes of death. The cell resembled that of an animal. Only darkness, reigned supreme in the rusted metallic enclosure. The cold angry air reeked havoc in my nasal passage, rendering my senses useless. The walls echoed a rather peculiar silence, a prelude to a much greater disaster.
Humanity had been shattered by the cell's enormous, never ending stream of might. It had created fear in even the most remote areas of our feeble minds, filling our imaginations with horrific hallucinations. The monotonous translucent tiles stretched for miles, a pave to the source of our misfortunes. My eyes ran circles around the cell, tracing the path which got me inside death's gates. The color of my skin had been drained right out of me, robbing me of my human identity. I felt naked, as if I had been stripped of my external apparel, Unprotected from the relentless weather's immorality. My bare human skin was incapable of withholding my human flaws, curiosity, being the most dangerous. I marched on fiercely leading my army of ten keratin capped cadets corpses; blindly aligned to the autocratic monarchy they served. The silence broke into thunderous claps with each trench we crushed, defeating the vacuum of silence; death's army had sent to thaw our uneasy alliance. Silence was the most powerful weapon against man; only in silence could the God's manifest their divine will upon us. I felt the air cheering my army on, silently whispering a notion of mutiny against her father. Without the air's co-operation, the supernatural silence was routed, left to hide away in desperation. I felt powerful, god like as the Mesozoic darkness celebrated my presence. The cold dead ambiance had the contradictory ability to resurrect my dead, Messianic senses, removing them from the paralytic force of death. The Gods had assigned me the role of deliverer, granting my meager frame paramount authority over death. My soul united almost unwillingly with my mind, exposing its purity to the dissipated thoughts of humanity. Their bitter rivalry subdued by a wave of reconciliation. The only way we could survive death's opposing will was through unity.
It was rather symbolic that the secret of eternal youth lay beyond the hills of death. "In death will you find eternity", the archaic map sang. I shuddered, briefly at the thought of my raison d'être. "Such a discovery could change the world forever" I thought, unruffled by my larger than life raison d'être. The fountain of youth could metamorphose humanity into Gods of our own world, rising beyond nature' sternly set boundaries. The threat of my potential threat of my life was a small sacrifice to pay for the greater cause of human evolution, after all our forefathers sacrificed their lives for a better world. I closed my inanimate eyes, envisioning a new paradise where the sick, weak, old, young and strong could co-exist eternally without the threat of death's devastating presence. "If only I had discovered this a year ago", I whispered, tearfully. My grandmother died of cancer, exactly one year ago. "I would rather die, than live forever", she would say. She always told me that life was only to be lived once, that if we lived forever it would take away the joys and appreciation of life. I would trade my soul for my grandmother to come back; she always held a special spot in my heart. I could still remember how just her presence could subside all the angst I held. She became like a mother to me after my biological mother died giving birth to me. I had only seen pictures of my biological mother and it broke my heart that I would never know her. I wanted to make sure that no one would ever have to go through so much pain, losing a loved one was painful, but never knowing my mother was the nail on the coffin. The feeling of perennial confusion siphoned my internal wellbeing. I felt cheated of the maternal love I deserved, enslaved in an eternal battle against my own demons. My palms perspired, crafting warmth to my heat retaining hands. "The marvels of humans", our God given machines always protect us from nature's fury. I marveled at our overwhelming desire as mortals to try and usurp the creator's role, in the process bastardizing our bodies. The human desire of self enhancement has clogged our ability to evolve naturally.
My ears quivered involuntarily, danger was lurking and I could feel it. I always had a knack for senses trouble, death in particular. It almost felt as though death and I shared a similar interest. The ground below me shook vigorously, elevating what only appeared to be a glowing frame. "Something's not right about this" I said. Sometimes your instinct leads you down the wicked path of self doubt. The glowing frame finally stood, vertically challenged only by nature's snow capped peaks, its presence dominating even the vicinity of my retinas. "Speak mortal, for the time to be heard has arrived", its leonine roar, thundered throughout my ear drums, tearing through the boundaries between my subconscious and conscious thoughts. "What do you ask of me, son of Plouton, seeker of the mysterious" "I seek that which lies between death and birth, but cannot be held by my mortality". I replied. "You have found that which you search so candidly, but beware my son for what you seek is better held by only the gods". I stood silently, choosing my response carefully. "Speak son, are you sure you want the secret of the gods". I nodded my head in acceptance. The Gods feared their secrets in the hands of us mortals, with eternal youth we too would become God like beings ergo threatening their monopoly on the heavens. The Gods were an envious bunch; they only cared about their own misguided self interests. They spawned death to keep us at their heels, dependant on their mercy. We have conquered everything and now it was time for humanity to overcome nature's most ferocious weapon, death. Our inauspicious destiny would be nothing more than a thing of the past. The world would rejoice as their Messiah arrived in a golden chariot, bringing light to their misery. The glow from the frame blurred giving way to an obscure mirror like projection. "Do not let your worldly arrogance possess your mind", it spoke "There is reason for humanities mortality"
The mirror showed what seemed to be a man standing above the world. Each step he took crushed the world's masses. The man wore a crown on his head, on the crown stood seven pinnacles. The seven pinnacles spoke, each a language I could not understand. The world had been robbed of its natural beauty; humans crawled across Earth's barren land in search of water. "The quest for power weakens man", the mirror shouted. "Only in death can man be purified of their greed". I knew he was right, as peculiar as it sounded; it carried an undertone of reality. We as humanity had only managed to destroy what nature had created for us. "I still do not understand. What has the man you showed me have to do with anything? Who is he?" I asked, still dumbfounded by the mirror's riddle "Son you need not look far for that man, he as is as far as he is close", as quick as lightning the mirror vanished into the thick cold air, leaving nothing but confusion in my mind. "What a waste of time, I still have to find the fountain of youth" I spoke gently, trying not to reawake the dead mirror. I had come a long way to find the fountain of youth and there was no way I would leave without it. My journey began again, as my feet marched on, still united. The long walk to freedom is a long and daunting path, I was not about to let the words of a mirror stop my righteous path, not just yet at least. The unabated silence scared me, now more than ever. My feeble interior was incapable of fighting the battle against death's silence after the crippling encounter with the "mirror of reason". "The only reason I got from that stupid thing was the reason to doubt". My eyes caught a glimpse of another strange figurine rising, revealing its abstract beauty. The fountain of youth looked a lot more beautiful than I ever expected. The water from its temple flowed gently, levitating lightly on the diamond plated surface. My human eyes had never experienced such heavenly beauty, a beauty even my saliva wielding tongue could taste.
Alle Rechte an diesem Beitrag liegen beim Autoren. Der Beitrag wurde auf e-Stories.org vom Autor eingeschickt Emmanuel Sibanda.
Veröffentlicht auf e-Stories.org am 17.09.2009.