Chapter 1 [Entry]

There aren’t many things that I remembered at first.  The memory wipe was to blame for that.  Out of all the fogginess and confusion, I remember the darkness trying to swallow me entirely, as if inflicted with a silent, greedy hunger.  It was something I wouldn’t let happen.  I remember swimming through that thick darkness, trying to make my way to something tangible, but never quite reaching anything at all.  I remember wanting to see light.  I remember wondering if I were dead, but if I were dead, wouldn’t I see the light?  More than anything, though, I remember the blinding pain.  Unlike the darkness and its simmering hunger, the pain devoured me without second thought.  It clenched me in its vice-like jaws, paralyzing me in my swim through the sea of darkness. 

            Then, I remember the blaring lights, burning through my closed eyelids.  I had thought the lights would bring me comfort, but they only served to make my head throb harder in its pain.  Apparently, my heart had decided to move to my head and pound furiously, as if trying to wake me up.

I suppose it’s strange for most people to think that the first things I remember are darkness and the pain.  Most people remember their first bike ride or random events like birthday parties.  Then again, most people don’t get their memories wiped and then get thrown into Anomie, the prison of the Damned. 

            My eyes struggled to open, but they were encrusted shut, probably because they had been closed for much too long.  Or I had been crying.  Most likely, they were shut because of both reasons.  Finally, I managed to open them, stand up and gaze at my surroundings. 

            At first, I couldn’t see much because of the spotlights glaring down at me.  I threw my hands over my face to shield my stinging eyes.  After they adjusted to the light, a wall of fear hit me, almost throwing me back to the ground.  The bleached white walls that surrounded me were covered with faded, yellowing papers and signs, all in different languages.  The papers that I could read were labeled ENGLISH at the top.  They were the only sheets I could read.  Everything else was just a mixture of meaningless letters and symbols. 

            Welcome to Anomie.  Please proceed to the exit as quickly as possible!

            You have been condemned to Anomie.  Please exit the entry room or be forcibly removed.

            You will not remember anything from your past.  The fact that you are in Anomie should be enough to tell you that you are despised, punished, condemned, and outcast forever more from the World.  May the Fates be with you. 

            Tears began to run down my face in streams.  I was in Hell.  What the signs said was true; I had no idea who I was, where I came from, or what I did, but the fact that I was in Anomie said more than enough.  My heart shuddered in its regular rhythm.  I shamelessly wished that it would give out.  Only then would I be free of the torment that awaited me.  In all of the darkness and confusion that still shrouded my memory, one thing stood out clearly: Anomie.

            Encompassing all of Old New York, Anomie was a prison, built by the Establishment hundreds of years ago to house the criminally insane, traitors, disturbers of the peace, enemies of the state, and anyone the Establishment thought was dangerous to their perfect World.  I was one of those categories. 

            I fell against the nearest wall and slid to the ground, sobs shaking my body.  Fear and desperation washed over me in waves, causing me to lose any semblance of strength I had left.  There was no escape from Anomie, and if I wasn’t killed by the inhabitants, I would die from old age.  Sentences in Anomie were for life, but I knew that the first option was the most probable to happen.  I could remember the horror stories that the Establishment would tell everyone about Anomie.  They spoke of monsters, demons, horrible deaths, everything to scare us into not wanting to ever go there, and therefore, keeping us in line.  Anomie was the last place anyone ever wanted to go.  It was how the World was kept at peace by the Establishment.

            “Please take your file and proceed to the exit!”  A voice crackled through the worn out speakers above me.  A glance at the wall in front of me showed a long mirror, reflecting a haggard face with sunken eyes and messy, dirty hair.  My own reflection already scared me.  I stared at my face for a minute, wondering what I looked like before my entry into Anomie.  The bruises on my face and arms told me that entry wasn’t comfortable.  A long, thin scar ran down the side of my neck.  My fingers ran the length of the scar, feeling raised skin.  Something had been inserted into my neck.  My blue eyes reflected the intense fear I was feeling.  Under the mirror sat a small, metal table with a manila folder on it.

            For some reason, I knew that behind the mirror sat two Officials, monitoring the entry of new prisoners.  How else would they know I hadn’t left?  There were no cameras in the room that I could see.  I suddenly felt a burst of energy and I jumped to my feet and slammed into the mirror.

            “Why have you done this to me?”  I yelled, pounding my fists against the mirror.  “What did I do? At least tell me that! Please!”

            An abrupt burst of electric shock ran through me, causing all of my muscles to freeze up.  The pain was unbelievable.  I could feel the tears streaming out of my eyes again, this time involuntarily.  And then, as abruptly as it began, the shock stopped and I fell to the ground.  Sobs wracked my body once more.  No escape, no hope, nothing.  I am dead.

            “Take your file and leave.  The passage is safe until you come to Old New York City.  May the Fates guide your steps.”  The voice buzzed through the speakers again.  I hardly heard the words as I struggled to my feet, using the small table under the mirror as a support. 

            The manila folder on the table was my file.  I grabbed it and fumbled it open.  There was only one sheet inside. 

           

Prisoner  Name:  Ayr

Prisoner Number: 1192980

Prisoner Age: 18

 

Prisoner 1192980 sentenced for criminal schizophrenia, treason, the brutal killing of four Establishment Officers, and association with terrorist parties.  The length of sentencing is life or until deceased by other manners.  May the Fates guide this soul to its eternal resting place. 

 

Approved and signed by the Most High President of the Establishment, Alexander Bronn.

 

            The brutal killing of four Establishment Officers?  Treason?  Terrorism?  What had I done?  And what was criminal schizophrenia?  There was no possible way this could be right.  I was only 18, just a kid.  Something had to be wrong.  A mistake had been made.  I turned to face the mirror again but I knew if I did anything I would just be shocked again. 

            “Please,” I begged.  “There must be a mistake.  I’m only 18!  I don’t even know what criminal schizophrenia is!”

            My begging was met with silence and then the lights in the room shut off, engulfing me in the darkness once more.  The innate fear of the hungry darkness began to wash over me again and I ran to the dimly lit outline of a door and threw it open.  Before me lay a long hallway, lit with flickering fluorescent lights.  Besides the door at the far end of the corridor, there were no other doors or hallways branching away. 

            I began to walk.  Just within the last minutes, I had already begun to feel numb.  The fear, rage, pain and desperation had run through me too fast.  It was better not to feel anyway.  It would save me from feeling more pain.

 My footsteps echoed unnaturally loud in my ears.  The only other noise was the faint buzzing of the lights as they blinked above me.  The hallway stretched before me, seeming to elongate itself so that the walk to my death seemed longer than it really was.  It was a bittersweet walk, both terrifying and graciously slow. 

            I found the door in front of me faster than I would have liked.  It was a large metal door with huge bolts reinforcing its strength.  There were traces of rust near the hinges, but I doubted that anything could have broken through it.    

            My heart seemed to have made its way back to my chest, I noticed, mainly because it had started to pound again.  There was no way of knowing what lay behind the door in front of me.  The Officials had promised me safe passage to Old New York, but had they just meant this hallway was safe?  Were there monsters and demons waiting for me just outside of the door, licking their lips and waiting for me? 

            I tried my hardest not to reach for the door knob, but my hand had a mind of its own.  I watched in terror as it rested on the knob.  A loud click told me that the door had unlocked. 

            There’s no use being scared now, Ayr.  If you open the door to your death, so be it.  It’s better to die quickly in here, or so they say, but I wouldn’t worry about that right now.  You have a greater destiny waiting for you.  A small voice in the back of my head spoke.  Was it in my head?  I turned back to look from where I came and froze.  Standing in front of the other door was a dark silhouette of a man.  None of his features were apparent but I could tell he was watching me.  A strange feeling of familiarity overcame me, as if I knew to whom the silhouette belonged.  And then he was gone.  I blinked my eyes and shook my head.  Was I imagining things now? 

            A greater destiny.  I stared back at the spot where the man had been standing for a few more seconds before deciding that my eyes and fear were playing tricks on me.  The words I had heard were my own thoughts.  That was it.  Turning back to the door, I steeled myself and twisted the knob with a loud screech of metal. 

            Death, if you are waiting for me, here I come.

            I almost wanted to close my eyes as the door opened before me, but the fear coursing through my veins instructed me to keep them open.  There was no way I was going to die cowering with my eyes closed.  That was a stupid thought.  Who cares how I die?

            After what seemed like hours, the door stopped creaking open and in front of me was the opening to the rest of my life, the entryway to my prison. 

            No demons or monsters stood waiting for me at the other side.  I didn’t die.  In fact, there was nothing at all outside of the door.  It opened up into an expanse of dark nothingness.   

            I took a hesitant step out of the door and quickly looked around for any signs of danger.  To my left and right, a massive wall towered over me and spread in both directions as far as I could see.  A small path wound away from the door.  I took another step. 

Immediately, the door slammed shut and I heard a quiet hum of electricity.  I guessed the door was charged electrically and would shock anything that touched it.  That was something I never wanted to feel again, so I took a few more steps away from the door, just in case. 

As if to push me along, tiny lights awoke on the edges of the path that lay before me.  They followed its curves and bends and eventually disappeared into the darkness. 

There was a heavy silence blanketing the expanse of nothingness.  It was unsettling how quiet it was.  There weren’t even the noises of nocturnal insects to break the eerie silence. 

“I guess this is the way I should go,” I said aloud to myself.  I needed to hear something, even if it was my own voice.  I waited a moment, silently hoping that someone would answer back and direct me forward, but no one spoke, not even the imaginary voice in my head.  I was on my own, that much was clear.

My shoes crunched on the dirt as I began to walk the path.  After a few minutes of walking, I came to a fork in the path.  A sign stood where the paths split.  It was a decrepit sign, leaning slightly to the left. 

Old New York City, 10 miles à  The words were fading but were otherwise printed nicely on the sign.  More words were etched crudely into the space below.

ß Luxury Slums, 5 miles.  Everyone welcome! J

So, I wasn’t in Old New York City yet.  I turned to my right, knowing that the promise of safety still held, at least until I got to Old New York.  No one had mentioned anything about the Luxury Slums.  I had always figured there wouldn’t really be any organized communities within Anomie, but the sign informed me otherwise.  Most of my imaginations were of immediate death in Anomie, with no time to form towns called Luxury Slums.  For some reason, it gave me a sliver of hope.  If enough people could survive to make a town, maybe I would live. 

Surely, there were more innocent people in Anomie.  The Establishment didn’t hold trials for the accused.  If they thought someone to be dangerous, that was the final verdict and they were put away.  I was innocent, of that much I was sure.  There had to be other innocent people in Anomie.  My sliver of hope grew to a very dim light in my heart.  Maybe the voice I heard in my head was right.  Maybe I wouldn’t die out here.

I continued to trudge down the path, still lit by the tiny lights, although some were burnt out or crushed.  The heavy silence weighed down heavily on me, almost as if it wanted to squeeze out any strength I had left.

After a few hours of walking through nothing and toward nothing, I decided to take a break.  The initial shock of finding myself in Anomie had worn off, but I knew better than to let my guard down.  My eyes were just so tired.  I was just so tired. 

“A little rest won’t do any harm,” I reasoned out loud to no one in particular. There was a stirring in my mind, like something waking in its depths.  I wondered if it was my imaginary voice coming to warn me of shutting my eyes.  Undoubtedly, nowhere in Anomie was safe, but at the moment, I didn’t care.

My eyelids slowly drooped until they closed completely and shut Anomie away.  It was almost blissful, closing my eyes and not worrying about where I was to go or what I was going to do.  Under my eyelids I was somehow safe.  Anomie could wait.  Death could wait.  Everything could wait, as far as I was concerned.  Sleep was the only thing that mattered.

Yes, I thought.  Sleep is good…

Ayr!  Someone draws near. My eyes flew open and flitted left and right.  Someone had spoken my name.  I had heard it clearly.  There was nothing imaginary about it.

Peering about, I searched for the dark silhouette that I had seen earlier, back at the entry way, but the darkness was too thick.  The small lights at my feet were hardly enough to light the path, let alone the surrounding area. 

A small noise to my left, the slight sound of a foot scuffing the ground grabbed me and I twisted, my heart beating hard.  I hoped it wouldn’t give my position away, but that was a stupid thought, I was standing in a lit path.  I was a clear target for any hungry demon or vicious criminal, but what walked out of the darkness and into the path a few feet in front of me was neither hungry nor vicious. 

In front of me stood a little girl.   

Reviews

[Gangling]

Very interesting and unique concept. I like the fact that it is mostly, can't remember the word...'told'.

Can't wait to read the rest ;o)