Pool of Psychosis.

(Part two)

I am alive. My torment of encasement continues. Throughout the night, I was constantly reminded of the intimate closeness of the crystal – this multi-faceted cage of pain. My body could not move and for an unknown reason, air was not a necessity. Claustrophobia had long since been replaced by an emotion that far exceeded my understanding of fear. All I knew was that it originated from a previously dormant part of my mind. The dunes taunting song did little to ease my thoughts.

A pre-dawn sky finally appears; the light of morning vanquishes the darkness of night. A solar orb crests the horizon and as the rays shine on my crystalline form, it happens… a crack appears on the crystal covering my outstretched hand, a piece pops off and drops onto the sand below. The crack then descends the length of my arm and spreads out covering the entirety of my body following the trajectory of my veins. My cage shatters, splintering away from me in fractals of colours. I hit the floor before the pieces evaporate in front of me. Lying on the sand once more, I notice that my previous bruises have healed and my skin is covered in a film of smoothness. I lay there unmindful of the sand beneath me and slowly close my eyes to the world.

An intense force awakens me; an unseen pressure from above. Opening my eyes, I distinguish another glowing sphere which has joined the first in orbit. The dunes boil under the heat and appear as rolling waves to me. Strangely enough, I do not experience the increased temperature; only the weight bearing upon me. Rebelling against the augmented gravity, I rise and resume my expedition (a grand word for such a simple action). I walk, slowly, through the ocean of sand without thought for sustenance of any sort. Emotion escapes me and a primal urge to keep moving assumes control.

Direction and distance is irrelevant. I could be stepping in circles or have traveled a few leagues. Time is the only parameter I have available to gauge my progress. The two suns, the second at its zenith now, is my medium of measurement. “Does it really matter?” I ask myself. “Direction, distance and time. They are insignificant if the landscape is constant. There is no point,” I mutter. Somewhere deep down in my core a synapse fires. I suddenly find my steps arrested. Looking down I see that the sand has already devoured half of my body. There is no time to panic. My head is swallowed beneath the dunes.

A few moments later, I am expelled from the confines of the sand unto a surface that I can only describe as clouds. Furtively glancing about I discover that the “sky” is now an undulating mass of sand and a faint bluish luminescence is being emitted to my right. This is the only feasible point of interest in my proximity, so I move to it. Getting closer, I discern tropical palm trees encircling a pond of pristine blue water. The trees hold pied, coconut-like fruits under their leaves and the surface of the pool is serene. The primordial power that has driven me this far has at last subsided; my muscles relax. I rest my back against a trunk and enjoy the atmosphere of this place. “An oasis…how original,” I whisper.

Smirking at what I had just said, I tilt my head back and look upwards. The leaves rustle and a “fruit” unfurls itself and propels towards me. Face to face with the creature now, I note a few peculiar characteristics regarding it. It has the shape of an octopus; the body is covered in green and orange fur and it has two human eyes on its head. The entire thing is quite comical. After a few seconds, it pushes its tentacles against the bark and swims away through the air. Following the animal with my eyes I see a previously unnoticed object attached to the ground below it.

A single wooden pole extends from the ground and ends in a white rectangular box with a brass handle on the front. Attached to the side of the box is a red flag which is aloft. Rushing over to the postbox, I open it with excitement and take out the letter from within. I softly break the wax seal, which depicts a raven with a snake in its beak, and draw out the paper. The note is not signed and contains only four lines of text which read:

Note to self...

The Well contains not what you seek but reflects that which can never be.

All things written is a lie and all that is spoken even more so.

The octopu are always watching.

Perplexed by this insanity, I drop the letter and head to the origin of the blue glow. Behind me the page turns to ash.

Striding to the pool; I kneel and peer into its depths. The water is tranquil and untainted, yet I cannot see the bottom of it. Leaning forward with my face inches away from the surface; a sublime form interrupts my gaze. While I raise my head, the figure swirls twice more and then ruptures the surface of the water.

Sapphire droplets hang in the air around her head. She is gifted with raven hair, skin the shade of moonlight, eyes of silver and lips akin to a cherry blossom. She smiles silently…like a precocious child, dangerous as wisdom-less knowledge. As her body raises, wonder emerges within me – she is naked. Her movement is that of a gentle summer breeze; natural and right. Her petite physique holds supple breasts and just above them is an obsidian tattoo. This depicts a circle whose ends never meet. She steps forward on the water and offers me her hand. Without thought, I lift my hand to hers. Deep within me something screams for me to stop; but, how could I? Against this being that is beauty personified; I am defenceless.

Our fingers touch.

Her skin is cold and yet, silk would envy it. My fingers tingle. I am too enthralled to notice that my hand has already transformed into pixels of sand. The alteration consumes me. Thankfully my head is the last to change – I get to glance at her for a second more; she continues to smile.

My final grain falls.

~

The Sandman