Poseidon's Wrath

Part 2: And Now

Part 2: And Now...

A Sentence to be Read and Served

Eternity seems like an understatement when hell is your only living space. These glowing walls appear to pulsate. Each intermittent ray of light sending me into a mental daze. My mind a blank, my power limited, my will diminishing...

I close my eyes. Indistinct pictures flash, teleporting me to distant memories, shattered memories. Who am I?

Do I need to be somewhere, somewhere that isn't here? Is there a world beyond this one anymore?
I must return. but where? And so, I ponder.

So many years. So many decades, the number of which wouldn't do describing this boredom any justice. Even with the provision of activities, there is nothing to do. At least I have my dreams; my dreams of oceans flowing, waves crashing into the sand creating a white wash only to be sent back by the call of the deep blue desert; the ocean.

Although alluring, this dream could be many things; This dream could be my subconscious yelling out to me, that any conversation or attempt at intellectual enlightenment with the brick wall next cage over will just be rebounded and sent back into the endless pool it came from; The hulking man in the cell next to me, the one aptly named 'Titan'. A bulking mass of muscle, with an even stubble of beard that follows to the top of his head, all of which never seems to grow. I can picture his face, even in this dream-state: A bold chin, strong jaw, a refined, almost sculpted gaunt. His supposed power of the earth is reflected in his eyes. A desert stone, an amber, maybe even a hazel. Both?

"Are you listening to me Poseidon?" A faint voice breaches my inner mind, croaky but strong, loud in nature. My sealed eyes refuse to ajar and eventually I respond with a long moan followed by a grunt. My resting place is flipped from under me and I lay upon a stone-cold surface – more crystal. I bring myself to push my body from the ground, reluctantly I stand.

"That's not my name." I finally retort, a phrase I repeated far too often.

"Oh, then what is your name?" again he speaks, his tone apparent that he is setting me up for his own cruel punchline to deter my sanity, but my mind won't waver just as it hasn't for these decades of being trapped.

"I..." My mind can never give me an answer to this one simple question. Is it that I can't remember or don't want to remember. Is it if I remember that I will not like who I am. Was. Will be?
These walls play tricks like this, they take away what you think you know and distort its reality: light is darkness, wind is stone, darkness is light, stone is wind, up is down or perhaps it was down is up.
I bring myself to finish, and for the umpteenth-hundred time I respond with "I can't remember."

"So, it seems."

I laugh, something new to add to the seemingly scripted part of this prison's sick little ritual. "What are you so happy about?" The voice asks seemingly aggravated at my happiness.

"I do remember that you're retiring today. You did it, you outlived the dinosaurs, good work. I'm just so happy that you've wasted your life looking after all us here in the pentagram of hate for the colonel." I begin my slur of insults. Grudges against two people can last a long time, but it's always fun to demean someone as they think they have degraded you. "I'm still amazed you got this job, decades and you've only managed to catch three of us? Are you sure you're retiring and not getting fired?"

"You little shit! I broke you! I know I broke you!" His voice unable to keep with his screaming it crackles and silences, and he starts coughing and smacking on the KD tank.

A voice over the facility speaker commands "colonel, stop harassing the subjects."

The colonel begins to laugh "ever since we met on that transport truck I've wanted to punch you in the face but, this might be more fun. Poseidon, I hope you're going to have fun being locked in here knowing this one secret. I've overseen the unit looking for your son, so that we can put him down. Like the son of a tramp and mongrel mutt he is." The words coming from his mouth seem to put himself into a sadistic form of pleasure.