Eric glanced up at Arop. Did he say something? he wondered.
As soon as the gust of wind finally disappeared, he could hear again.
"Eric, hurry up."
He looked up and saw Arop waving toward him before jumping down into the mall.
So he's just going to leave me here, he thought as he continued to crawl, feeling the chilling cold breeze tickle his skin, causing his arms and legs to shiver.
One wrong move and I might actually die, he thought as he began slithering forward. Then all of a sudden gunshots rang in the distance, along with screeching tires. Eric flinched and began to crawl faster toward the broken window. Then, gathering all his courage, he jumped down into the mall.
"Were those gunshots?"
Eric nodded.
All of a sudden a clanging noise erupted in the mall, echoing.
Eric flinched.
"What was that?"
Arop pointed to a rat running across the lowest floor of the mall.
"Well, that's good. Wherever there are rats, there's food. Isn't there a saying like that?" Arop asked, turning toward Eric.
"I've never heard of it."
"Oh, really?"
Eric shrugged.
"I guess I made it up."
They descended through the mall, hearing the faint echoes of critters throughout. With each step, small bits of concrete crunched beneath their feet, which only made Eric more nervous. But Arop seemed unbothered. I wonder, does anything really scare him? he thought as their feet touched the lowest floor.
At the center of the mall stood a statue of a tall, naked woman. It seemed as if she was floating in midair, reaching out to touch the heavens. Above her was a glass ceiling, filtering the moon's light down onto the goddess, revealing her smile of love for man. Surrounding her were statues of people from different tribes, kneeling before her in worship. It looked as if she was blessing them with a rainy season.
"Orisha."
"What?"
Arop turned to Eric, gesturing to the statue.
"That's the goddess Orishun, one of the Orishas who help people. I only heard about them in stories. Do you know the song about them?"
Eric shook his head.
"I think it goes something like this. Oh, goddess Orishas, grant me joy, grant me wisdom. Give me your blessing to fight demons, or something like that."
Eric stared up at the statue, admiring its beauty, but there was something off about her—about her smile.
"Hey, Arop. Don't you think she's suffering?"
"Hah, why?"
Eric pointed up at her face.
"She's smiling, but is she really happy? If she has to constantly help people and hear their cries and screams for help, is she really free?"
Arop paused, thinking of a response.
"I don't know, maybe she loves what she does."
"Maybe."
Arop stared at Eric for a while before tapping him on the shoulder.
"C'mon, let's hurry up and get what we came for."
He nodded.
As they walked, what Arop had said replayed in Eric's mind. Maybe she loves what she does. Maybe that's exactly why she isn't free. In my eyes, she's a slave to the very people she tries to protect…Wait, no, no. I'm contradicting myself. She's a goddess; she can't be a slave to anything. Same for people—everyone is free in this world. We can dictate our futures through our own efforts. We have the freedom to choose anything we want to do in life. There, I've proved it. Slavery, as a concept, doesn't apply here. Everyone has freedom. That's a basic right given to all living things at birth. Yes, that's right, he thought.
They continued their walk, checking store after store, trying to find some way in. But the shops and windows were protected by security grilles. Still Arop insisted on searching further; he said if they found nothing in the next fifteen minutes, they'd leave. Eric nodded in response. He was beginning to feel a headache rising, and he had a feeling it would get much worse. Eric's mind was a storm of thoughts and memories swirling around—from the strange dream, to Arop's philosophy, to the revolution. He was trying to unravel everything in his head. Wait, maybe Arop's ideology is right—no, it can't be. But…wait, could the revolution actually be right? But… Eric's mind kept contradicting itself. As the seconds, which felt like minutes, went by, Eric's vision began to grow darker and blurrier, and his feet started shaking, struggling to keep his balance, until Arop noticed.
"Eric. Are you okay?"
He didn't respond; he was afraid that if he spoke he'd vomit. Then he missed a step. Eric fell to the ground with a thud. His eyes lost consciousness. He could hear Arop's voice, but it was muffled, until he could neither hear nor see anything.
In Eric's world there was no light, only darkness. But there were voices—voices he didn't recognize. They sounded like they were in pain, in anguish.
"My lord, forgive me."
"Please, please don't die."
"My lord, please save us."
"My lord…please bring us victory…for the sake of the soldiers we've lost…please…please don't let their deaths be meaningless."
"You're our lord, our king. You're a god. What do you mean you can't save her?"
"My lord, please end my torment."
"You led them all to their deaths."
"It…it was all…my fault."
"My…my hero."
"Thank you for being my hero."
"I'm sorry. I never got to keep my promise to you."
"I've sacrificed so much…for a dream that never really mattered…I see…I just can't win against you, can I."
These voices grew louder and louder until he could feel his sanity slipping away. He wanted to scream, to yell, thinking that if he tried hard enough he might wake from his awful nightmare. But not a sound escaped his mouth. He tried to move through the blackened void, but he'd lost all sense of direction, so he wasn't even sure if he was moving. Then all of a sudden he felt himself falling, deeper and deeper into an abyss, until he saw a light—a red light. Is that— before he could finish the thought he crashed into a sea of blood. He was sinking, drowning, trying to fight his way up, but it was no use. He sank until he crashed through another layer of blood. As soon as he broke through it, his entire world seemed to flip. He was falling again, the world spinning and flipping around him. He couldn't smell or feel anything except the fear stirring within him. Everywhere around him was a sea of blood and ruins. Some were modern; some looked as if they dated back to medieval times. In that world there were no signs of life; the only life that existed was him. The blood that hid the ground had a strange black color and seemed to be boiling, steam hovering over it. But to Eric's further horror, a hand emerged from the sea of blood, taking on the same black color. There was something different about it—black fire covered its entire body as the monster's full form emerged. It was tall, at least ten feet, and took on a human shape. Eric couldn't see its face; it was completely covered in black, but its eyes glowed red. Then all of a sudden it raised its head, staring directly at him. Eric's fear burned him from the inside, but try as he might he simply couldn't scream. Then, one after another, more monsters emerged from the blackened blood, until Eric estimated their numbers at a million. They all looked up at him as he began to fall, then let out a loud shrieking noise as they swam up toward the sky, trying to seize him. Eric's eyes widened. They were mere inches from claiming him, but Eric fell through a wall of light, bracing himself for further horrors—but there were none. He was standing, his falling finally ended. Opening his eyes, he saw planets and stars in the sky. He was standing, but there was no solid ground beneath him. He looked around, but there was nothing but infinite shining stars in the bright, dark sky. He walked, hearing echoes of memories, both joyful and painful. Some of those memories were his, but most were unrecognizable to him. As he walked, he began to see people. The memories started playing out all around him. Little girls running down a street, singing their favorite songs—but the next scene showed their corpses being viciously eaten by a group of monsters. Their lifeless eyes stared directly at him, as if to say, why did we die, why did we have to die, why didn't you keep your promise to protect us. Eric backed away and ran with his mouth open, trying to release his grief, but still no sound came out.
The scene vanished, and the next played out: a swordsman, clad in armor, swinging his sword even as blood gushed from his missing left arm. Eventually he was pierced by ten spears, each from a different direction. Falling to his knees, he coughed blood as it flowed from his wounds. Slowly, shakily, he looked directly at the person about to take his life, with murky, dark purple eyes. Before he died, his mouth began to move, but Eric couldn't understand a word, both because of the blood splattering out as he spoke and because he was speaking a language Eric had never heard before. A couple of seconds later he was set ablaze. He didn't scream, nor did he react to the pain. To Eric it looked like he'd accepted his death; in the corner of his mouth was a weak, trembling smirk, but simultaneously a single tear slid down his face as he collapsed, his body and armor completely charred to ash. Eric continued to run, ignoring the scenes of a memory that wasn't his. Later, as he ran to nowhere, Eric saw another scene—different this time—a single person standing ahead of him. The more he walked, the more he saw of the person, until he realized it was a woman, and she was naked. Her hair was long and black, parted at her neck so it hung down over her breasts, her forehead hidden behind her bangs. She had a weak but beautiful smile that wavered, but she quickly fixed it back into place. Tears began to fall from her eyes, cascading down to the corners of her mouth and the edges of her lips. She took a deep breath before speaking, but her voice couldn't reach his ears. More tears flowed from her eyes as she closed them, but that did nothing to ease her pain. Like a broken reservoir, she let out a loud scream as a flood of tears fell down her face. She tried to run, but the shackles binding her wrists and ankles wouldn't allow it. Finally coming to terms with the fact that she was going to die, she looked up one last time before stretching out her hand. Eric, witnessing the scene powerlessly, finally moved forward. He couldn't talk, couldn't cry, couldn't scream, and had no authority over the hellish world he'd been trapped in. But even so, he still carried the faint flicker of his wish—a wish he'd dreamed of ever since he could remember: to become larger than life, to be loved by everyone, to not be weak, to not witness others' pain and just watch powerlessly. His fairy-tale dream was to be the shining light that would eliminate all he deemed evil, because deep down he hated being a weak witness to others' suffering. To him, there was no person more disgusting than a weak person who refused to act when faced with black.
Eric rushed toward her, extending his arm for her to grab, but when their hands were just inches apart the girl disappeared. Before she did, their eyes locked, and although Eric couldn't hear her words, he could have sworn she mouthed, "I love…you." Eric collapsed, banging his hands against his face again and again. He didn't understand—he'd never met that girl, or any of those people, before—but whenever he saw them, whenever he thought of them, he was overwhelmed by a strong sense of guilt and longing that tugged at his soul. But still he couldn't scream, couldn't cry; it was as if he'd been punished to contain all his sins and regrets inside himself until they slowly ate away at his sanity. The invisible pain of his sins grew louder and louder. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry I couldn't save you," he thought as he banged his fists against the dark ground, trying with all his might to scream, yet again to no avail. Then his entire world flipped again, and as he fell he didn't resist, nor did he try to scream. He gave in, falling into a bottomless abyss. The deeper he fell, the more his sight was obscured by darkness. His mind went blank; he couldn't think or feel anything; he couldn't even remember his own name, as if his very identity was being erased from existence. Then all of a sudden he was standing again, surrounded by colorful threads woven together and separated, stretching farther than his eyes could perceive. Both the sky and the ground were a black ocean filled with colorful spots, rippling into tiny waves—but for some reason he wasn't sinking. Then he turned around and froze. In front of him was a kneeling giant. Eric guessed it was at least seven and a half feet tall. It had the palest skin, with long, flowing white hair, some hanging down over its face, some down its back. Looking closer, Eric noticed the giant was imprisoned by black chains, made from the fabric of the black ocean, wrapped around its entire body with their ends penetrating it.
The giant twitched, and the ocean tightened its hold. It struggled to lift its head as the chains grew tighter. Eric stepped back. The giant looked up at him with weary purple eyes. He couldn't look away; his whole body froze in place. Eric could see a portion of the giant's face, mesmerized by its beauty—so mesmerized he had trouble telling its gender. Its soft-looking, pale skin, pale as snow, was completely clear—just as clear as… A blurry image flashed in Eric's mind: the girl from his dreams. He didn't remember much, but he remembered being mesmerized by her beauty. He tried to remember more, but suddenly his mind went blank and the whole world changed. He was once again back in that hellish world, completely naked, standing in the ocean of blackish blood. He could move again. He quickly looked around for any monsters, but there were none. Then, in an instant, ruined cities appeared, corpses of their former beauty. Tall ruins of buildings, gothic structures, towered over him. Eric spun around, unsure of what to do, then instinctively decided to run—to nowhere. As he ran, something grabbed his ankle. He looked down, and instantly fear shot through his spine. He tried to pull his foot back, but the grip was too strong. The thing holding his leg so tightly was a woman—nothing but skin and bones, wearing only torn lingerie with no bra. Her cheeks were sunken, her eyes bulging. Her hair was unkempt, and her skin, given how thin she was, was barely visible.
Eric began to fight—stomping, punching, trying to poke her eyes—but her grip held firm. She smiled, tears running down her face, as she caressed his leg. Then she opened her mouth and said,
"Oh, wolf…how I've longed for the chance—the honor—of giving you my services. You have no idea how long I've waited for you to come back to me. And you finally did. I've waited so long for you to be with me, to see, to touch me…I want to give you my all—my body, my flesh, and…my soul. But this form of yours isn't the wolf I fell in love with…throw this self away, and let the blackest wolf be born…and carry us with you…to the day we can all be together forever." As she spoke, her jaw widened, tearing the side of her face. She began biting him. Eric tried to scream, but couldn't. Blood sprayed from his wound, and the woman drank it with the most unnerving expression on her face. Eric kicked her as hard as he could, but her grip didn't waver. She opened her jaws again, revealing degraded black teeth, and bit into him again and again. Then Eric felt another sharp pain, this time from his hand. He looked to his right and saw the living corpse of a soldier tearing chunk after chunk from his arm. Eric tried to pull his arm away, but the monster was too strong. Then, one after another, corpses of women, children, men, and soldiers rose from the blackish ocean of blood, feasting on his flesh and drinking his blood, laughing as if they were having the time of their lives. Their smiles exposed degraded teeth painted with his blood as it sprayed from their mouths onto his face. The only thing he could see now was red, and the only thing he could think was pain—unbearable pain burning across his body. The only words he could muster in his mind were, why me…why me, god damn it. I'm just a stupid, naive kid…I just want to be strong. Why am I so powerless? Why does this have to happen to me, of all the people in the world, why me. Why do I deserve this…I don't want to die. If there's a god, the only thing I have to say to you is…go to hell.