Pages 110 - 113

Memory Thief

Build yourself a maze and get fucking lost in it.

Now you’re lost and there’s no way to be certain.

You can no longer tell if you’re in your own maze.

You begin to question whether you even built one.

This is when your fears emerge.

You don’t know who would build such a horrible place.

Suddenly, the walls begin to crawl.

You can hear cynical laughter and a deep, dark rumble.

Your senses heighten and your heart hammers.

You are alone in this warped world.

You become plagued by moments of clarity.

You built this hell around yourself.

There is no one else.

Rejection is the automatic response.

It is not possible that you have done this to yourself.

You believe yourself to be a decent person.

Flashes of pitch black scream by on the crossroads before you.

You creep along in horror.

A small hatchet rests against a wall.

Lucky.

Loud horrifying laughter immediately behind you.

A quick turn reveals nothing present.

You understand that whoever built this is playing a game with you.

The only way out must be to play along.

Hell is before you.

The puppet master remains concealed.

A jack-in-the-box around a corner springs a large knife at your chest.

Its purpose is to scare and injure.

Although, worse has surely occurred.

Your memory lapses momentarily.

Still standing your racing heart slows.

Your hatchet hand shakes softly.

The knife and a small part of the spring lay a foot beside you.

An empty spring is left to bob and weave.

Onward.

A hall of skulls and other human bones.

Made to look as though they died here.

Placement is too perfect and no insects infest them.

No dreadful stench of death.

A meager attempt.

Sometimes we surprise ourselves with our own deductive reasoning.

You don’t question your insight.

You begin to feel as if you have been here before.

A thunderous sound is added to the deep rumble.

The walls and ground begin a relentless tremble.

A scene you’ve seen too many times before.

This is a stampede.

You check around all the corners down every nearby hall.

Not a single clue as to the power’s origin.

Logic hits you.

Its coming through the wall. Run.

A newly crafted hallway.

Filled with shadows and laughter.

The lights begin strobing.

A picture of a distasteful mask at the corner of the hall.

Lights off.

Man turning the corner.

Lights off.

Full sprint towards you reaching into his jacket.

Lights off, the hatchet spins rapidly in your hand.

The mask, a large knife, two meters.

Lights off.

You wait as the hall remains dark.

For an entire minute you do not move a muscle.

The longest minute your mind has ever perceived.

The lighting stutters on.

The mask is split in half.

A dead man lay with an axe in his face.

Around the next corner the walls are deteriorating.

Holes in the structure allow you to climb to stand upon the wall.

In every direction, miles of maze.

Just miles and days.

Who is behind this?

Why are you here?

Is there anything you can actually do?

A thin blur as you turn around.

A violent push to your shoulder.

Ground.

Sky.

Ground.

Sky.

Black.

It is dawn when you awake.

You remember falling in the afternoon.

You’ve been out a while.

Surprised to be alive.

You’re in a field of grass.

The walls around you covered in masks.

There are no halls to walk down.

There’s four walls around you and grass.

You acknowledge the arrow protruding from your shoulder.

In a single motion you pull it out and sit up.

You unravel a mask of cloth.

Tightly wrap your shoulder.

A moment of clarity.

You know you’ve been here before or lived here your whole life.

You approach a wall.

You motion to place your hand on an empty space along the wall.

The wall fades and vanishes.

The masks fall to the floor.

You step out into another hall.

On your left.

A rhinoceros.

Must have separated from the stampede.

It sniffles and cranks its head.

Your heart races.

Your mind blanks.

When you return you feel motion.

You must still be running.

No.

You’re riding.

The rhinoceros is really moving.

It is difficult to hold on.

The rhino jets to the right.

A dead end.

You think to jump.

Instead you freeze.

The beast stops abruptly and kicks its hind legs.

Over the wall you go.

Laying on your face.

Struggling to breathe.

An ensemble of feet approaches you.

Muffled chatter.

You make an attempt to stand.

Your head spins and you stumble back down.

You are being dragged along the ground.

You sleep yet again.

You awake pleased not to be tied up or roasting on a fire.

Muffled chatter.

Slowly you rise to your feet.

A dozen masked men immediately do the same.

One mask tells you that you are perplexing.

They are confused because you don’t wear a mask.

You respond half joking.

By telling them you’re confused that they did not kill you.

The answer.

Eventually everyone loses their mind here.

Those not gone yet group together for survival.

They question you again regarding the visibility of your face.

You don’t understand.

They explain that no one else has a face.

They wear masks to allow them the ability to see.

Eventually the conversation reaches a point where they agree to take you to the man in charge.

You walk for two days.

You take tunnels and sneak as much as possible.

There is very limited speaking.

The group arrive at a grass field.

Definitely not the same one as before.

You step onto the grass and the group disappears behind you.

Walls shoot up around you.

A giant screen appears above you.

You ask who is orchestrating this world.

The walls turn to mirrors.

Your face flashes on the screen above.

You ask whether this is a twisted joke.

Cynical laughter roars.

There’s a rock in your hand.

You throw it forcefully at the screen.

Everything vanishes.

Black.

Sound of shattering glass.

Police sirens.

You’re tackled from behind.

Hands are handcuffed behind your back.

You’re pushed into the back of a cop car.

New York city.

Memories and hallucinations flash vividly in your mind.

The masked man with a knife.

A mugger.

You killed him.

The rhino.

A car you weren’t driving.

A crash threw you from the windshield.

What happened?