The Abstraction Chronicles: The Abstract

Chapter 2: I Get A Tour from An Old Guy

Chapter 2: I Get A Tour from An Old Guy

You would think that almost dying would be the highlight of someone's day. Nope, things were about to get a lot weirder for me. In the darkness, I hear a voice in the back of my head. "Everything will be mine to control and mine to have. I hope you enjoy your visit to the Abstract. We will be meeting soon."

"Who are you?" I yell out, but no one answers. I hear scuttling coming from behind me, as I look there are hundreds if not thousands of monsters with red eyes that looked like the one that I just killed. Turning to run I immediately get overwhelmed by the sheer mass of creatures. "Please, someone help me!" I yell as I jolt awake in a pure cold sweat.

Realizing that I'm not in danger I take a few deep breaths. Whatever that was, it felt immense and terrifying. The hand displaying the star was burning. Was this the same mark on

that creature? Looking around I'm lying in a neatly folded bed with a leaf for a cover. There is a brown wood desk to my right and the room is unlike any modern architecture. Nothing is symmetrical. The walls weave in and out and are made of bark and the floor of polished wood. Where am I? I think. Looking down my shirt was still intact and checking my chest it didn't seem to have any scars from what had just happened. Things are getting weirder by the second.

"Oh, good, you're awake. Don't worry about those wounds of yours I took care of those when Cynthia brought you to me." I look to the entrance of the room which was a circular hole covered by leaves. There was a man that looked to be in his mid-forties. Brown messy hair with some grey tint and he was wearing leather boots and a cloth shirt. His face was gaunt, and well- defined.

"Who are you?" I ask.

"Someone who has taken you in, my boy. My name is Thaddeus and it's a good thing she had the common sense to bring you here, otherwise, you'd be another beast prowling the Abstract."

Looking dumbfounded I ask, "I can't put my finger on it exactly, but have I been here before? What exactly is the Abstract?"

He thinks for a second, then replies, "Not likely, it's the world that each one of us possesses but only a few may access. The Abstract is made up of all living or dead ideas and emotions of humanity. Or more precisely the physical representation of those ideas and the emotions they emit. Each person has some thought or idea that they think of without acting on it. Those same ideas create a new portion of the world you are now experiencing. I believe this world was of a gardener who passed away some time ago. She always had the best taste and had the idea of a forest confined forever to fall. Every person has a mental landscape that fits them."

I'm so confused at this point I ask, "What does this have to do with me?"

He sighs at this, "Everything I'm afraid. Look at your right hand if you will please." The Mark had stopped burning about now and had turned a distinct red color. "That Mark is the symbol of the Dwellers. They are creatures that prowl the Abstract. That Mark makes you one of us."

"One of us? Can't I just go back home?"

"Not possible I'm afraid. We cannot get you back to Reality without risking the safety of it all. Dwellers are prowling around the Gate just waiting to gain access to it. The Mark on your hand allowed your mind to enter the Abstract. You're lucky Cynthia was with you during that period or who knows what could have become of your consciousness."

Hearing this I start to hyperventilate. "So, if this is all true, then I can never go back to my world?"

Approaching me he puts his hand on my shoulder and looks me in the eye, "Perhaps, but not now. The Gate between the Abstract and Reality is closed. You were only able to slip by due to your Mark."