Imposter

Chapter 6

A long time ago, he had been happy. A long time ago, his main annoyance in life had been the fact his entire family ignored Gracie, his twin.

Now all he saw was darkness. All he did was in float in the nothingness. If he concentrated enough, he could feel hands probing his body, trying to fix him.

He stopped concentrating a long time ago because he didn't like what he felt.

Something was wrong with him. His body was broken, broken beyond repair. Maybe that was why he was floating in the darkness.

His name was Wesley and he reminded himself of that every day. Or night.

Or every time he thought a day had passed.

Somehow, he knew if he forgot his name, he would die. And so he reminded himself, clinging to that last thread that kept him alive.

Death mocked him.

Long shadows reached out with spindly fingers that grabbed at his being as he floated.

Their fingers went right through him, but somewhere, he knew his body must be convulsing with the pain.

This is the future.

Cries of the dying filled the air. Villages burned and reburned.

Brittle bones were left behind. Monsters crawled out of the rubble, teeth flashing and eyes glinting.

Death mocked him, its shifting face appearing before his eyes again.

My eyes. One was blocked. His left eye.

No, his right.

He couldn't tell. His eyes were still closed—the images were coming from within.

A fantasy world born from a bored, sick mind.

He was dying. No, maybe he was already dead.

The world paused, and he heard the faint rustling of pages.

He heard a voice.

Someone was reading to him.

Somewhere, where his body rested and his mind warred within itself, someone was reading to him.

Waiting for him to make a choice.

Waiting for him to choose between life or death.

Death's grotesque face flashed before him and he felt his resolve harden.

Life. He chose life.

At least for today.

********

A long time ago, Wesley had been happy and content with his life. He didn't know when that changed, when he started wanting something more.

He just knew it was the reason all he could do now was float in the darkness.

He heard voices sometimes, and he knew they belonged to his parents. He couldn't remember what they looked like. He couldn't remember any face from his past, no matter how hard he tried.

All he saw was Death. Death had many faces and they had all flashed in front of him, mocking him.

Death was hungry, so hungry, and that was all he knew of it. In a land of immortals, Death didn't have nearly enough to sate its hunger.

It laughed at the wreck it had made of him, delighting in the nothingness he had become. One day, it would claim him.

Somewhere in a small room, his fists curled, his ruined fingers pressing into the burnt flesh of his palms.

Not today.