[008] The Illusion Of Time
It hurt where icy as hell surface was touching his skin. It felt like the waves of cold impulses were freely roaming through his skull. He couldn’t move at all. After a few weeks of intense sensory overload, it was hard to tell whether any of this was happening outside of his imagination.
At least the flash beams were gone now, and his eyes already started to adjust to the darkness. It was one of those big rooms he was kept in, where it wasn’† clear whether it’s standalone or part of the more prominent structure. The walls and the floor were all smooth and cold surfaces, but he knew that they could hastily become unbearably hot as well.
A distant noise in the dark was moving closer. Tai couldn’t tell whether these sounds were heard before. Or was his mind playing tricks? Torture, maybe? Well, at least that’s expected. Some of these sounds made him shiver, and his skin would immediately get goosebumps. These strange sounds from the mountains. He lost count of all occurrences, wondering what was all about, mostly while lurking near the Dead zone.
He started dozing off again.
The distant noise gradually became a soft rumble; it could be easily felt via the vibrating floor in a previously eerily still and quiet room. Tai became aware of that, still confused. He wasn’t sure anymore whether it is a part of the torture or not. He didn’t care anymore. The high-pitched sound in the distance changed a few times, but every time got back to the original pitch.
It was also different from the previous times when he was sitting on the floor in the pitch-black room, his hands chained, and various sounds were blasted at him from all directions. He even recognized some of them. Things once learned as a youngster, never forgotten. The elders taught him to be aware of the sources of such sounds. The source of it was a direct threat to all of them. Most of them originated from the dead zones. It wasn’t dead after all. Century-old legends and tales told the story about the Others. The scouts would tell stories about the encounters as well, he remembered. The collective consciousness claimed that THERE IS SOMETHING in there. Almost invisible and cloaked by the mystery.
Invisible weight was pushing on his chest, making him gasp for the air, trying to ingest as much as he could every time he rolled on the other side. He didn’t know who or why kept him here. He hasn’t seen anyone; it was just the sounds and strange places. Sometimes, frightening ones. And for a few cycles, he wondered why he was still alive. His memories were very fuzzy.
He remembered a dream from the other day. Seeing himself being pulled through the plains, then restrained and locked in the bamboo cage somewhere in the outskirts. There was only grey rubble everywhere with no green flora anywhere in the eyesight. Some kids were running on that rusty sand. He caught himself thinking that was a bit strange, as it was somehow familiar to him already, but he didn’t know from where. It seemed like these kids were repeating the same thing over and over again. It would always start with a single kid on the one end of the formation, and later more kids would join, forming something like a tree structure. Lastly, the one with the big stick with the red would start going and touching each kid with that stick, beginning with the one at the top. There was something else going on, but he wasn’t sure what. Once the red bar would touch the last one, the group would scatter in opposite directions and start dancing, creating the air figures. He started dozing off again.
[ .. ]
It seemed like everything was eerily still— like some invisible force forced it down below the surface. If we went directly through the thick layer of dirt and rocks deep enough, we’d end up in the intricate cobweb of tunnels and maze-like structure. Carved into the rocks w/ deliberate stubbornness, like there is no tomorrow. These structures supported habitants living in there for a very long period hiding in there from the haunting past, trying to make a living, whether that was possible or not. Hollow lightning bounced off the brusque surfaces of the endless tunnels. One could wander in here for months without exiting on the surface.
It was a result of a collective effort to survive through the dark ages. It was either this or desolated plains. Seldom, an artifact would be found telling a tale about all the horrors that happened during those dark times. It seemed like living buried down below the surface, not seeing direct sunlight, suffering in isolation was a much better alternative than others. And no living thing was there to confirm it. It was a miracle that people started to live outside again after a long time. Some were brave and stubborn enough to get out to the river deltas and repeat everything from scratch. Most of these separate groups lived without interacting with each other, with a simple question in their flickering minds - “What if?". Most of them were keeping to their habitats, trying to settle in and survive. The persisting fear, which accompanied you everywhere you went, was essential in keeping those groups at bay.
Some of them chose to stay, even when living outside was already a reality. It seemed like a more sustainable alternative, and most of the outside world’s harms were gone. They were maintaining the structures. Defending the secrets, they found buried deep inside the mountains. It was located in the darkness only by mistake, following the mysterious hum, which accompanied you anywhere you went in the mountains’ guts.
[ … ]
Kids were running around on the plucked sand in a poorly lit cavern, which served as one of the playrooms. They seemed to be running in interconnecting circles, forming a sign of infinity on the sand.
[ … ]
Down deep below the surface, separated by the miles of intricate mazes and other formations, was a thing. A thing is known amongst the locals as The Wall. It had a bad rap, as it made people feel strange and sick being nearby. The legend said that you’d be somehow mesmerized by that thing once you crossed the narrow passing leading to it. And if you kept still enough in the darkness, you would hear the voices—grumblings and whispers from the future about the past. It was so frightening that the passing to it eventually was filled with rocks so that no one could touch it ever again.
Link to the recording: https://soundcloud.com/palanga_street_radio/decaying-foundations-008-the