The Depths of Insanity

0.3 - Land of the Forsaken

His heart was pumping at an erratic beat. Any voice that could be heard left me with an immense pain in my head.

But there was no voice.

There was no one.

He opened his eyes to only shut them as the light burned them to the core. It wasn't the rays of the sun. It was the moon.

As he slowly unclenched his eyes  he became completely aware of the quiet and eriee silence.

He was in the middle of nowhere.

He sat up straight and his body shook as he coughed. His throat felt dry and had this terrible itchy feeling. He needed water. He peered around.

He was in a desert. A goddamned desert. It was completely empty except for a few dead trees.

A terrible dread filled with in him. Am I in hell? The thought quickly swept away with confusion.

What had he done so wrong to end up in hell? He's only 15. Couldn't he be forgiven?

He slowly stood up on his feet, careful to not fall down. The sand looked black at this time of night.

He squinted as he looked at the sand. He bent down and examined the sand as he held it and watched it slip through his fingers. This sand is black. 

He stood up straight. What kind of hell is this? This is nothing how he envisioned hell to be like. This ain't some pit of fire.

''That's because this isn't hell.'' A deep voice rumbled behind him.

He whipped his head around. There was no one.

Was he hearing things?

Ah, screw it.

''Then what the hell is this place?'' He asked out loud and immediately felt stupid when he got no answer.

'The land of the Forsaken.''

Confusion mixed with irritation brushed over him. "The hell is that?"

"Why," He spoke, dragging out his words. "Don't you know? It's where people go when they miss the road to heaven or hell."

His heart was thumping so hard against his ribcage, it felt bruised. All the frustration that seeped into his skin ignited his skin on fire. "The fuck do you know? I'd rather be in hell than in here."

He suddenly staggered back as a man appeared before him. But not just a man, the man whom he was speaking with. He was wearing a tall black hat with a long ripped coat and jeans. His face looked old. Something was not right about him.

"Hell is nothing how you invision it to be. Loneliness gets to you, but not as much as the pain of burning flesh." He menaced, leering over him.

"Alone?" he asked, baffled. "Then why on earth are you here?"

He grinned. "Because I'm not like you Clyde. I'm different. And soon you will be too once you leave this place."

His breathing came to a halt. "Don't remember telling you my name."

"That's because you didn't. I simply know everything."

Clyde snorted. He may be just a kid but he wouldn't let the man intimidate him. "If you did, you woulda found a way out of here."

He let out a laugh, a loud one at that. A chill ran down his spine. The hell was wrong with him?

"I like you kid. But don't better my  judgment, for I am only waiting for you to find a way out of here."

"Why can't you just tell me?" He inquired.

He shook his head. "Don't work that way. If I tell you, you'll get out of here alright, but you end up straight in the bottomless pits of hell. Along with me, of course. You need to figure this out yourself, I have the outmost faith that you will. And when you do get out of here, you'll have another chance to live again."

"Everyone'll think I'm dead. How am I suppose to show up on my parents doorsteps and explain everything?"

"Your parents mustn't know!" He hissed.

"So what? They just go on with their lives assuming that I'm dead?"

"Now you're gettin it kid. It's the only way that you can help me in the future."

He scoffed. This man was insane. "Why would I help you?"

"Because you'll have no choice but to help me."  A wicked smile crept on his face. "Good luck." He said as he began to fade.

"Wait," He yelled, panicked. "Help me! I'll never get out of here!"

"Nature will guide you my boy, nature will guide you."

He was gone. Fucking hell.

He looked around in the spur of the moment trying to find him, as panic laced his heart. Nature? What nature?

He looked at the dead tree that seemed to be four football fields away.

Was there something there? He started at the tree for what seemed like an eternity before he finally found the will to drag his feet towards the tree.

This has to be a dream, he thought as he began to run across the sand. He'll wake up soon enough. And he'll be home.

There was nothing surrounding the tree. No door, no anything.

He circled around the tree, his palms scraping against the bark as he leaned on the tree, out of breath. Is this some joke to him?
He pressed his back against the tree and  he felt his legs giving up. He slid down the tree, hard as the bark created scratches on his back and tore through his shirt. Sweat trickled down his forehead as his chest heaved up and down.  It was pitch black and  he began to grow tired.

His eyelids began to slowly shut before he noticed something something in the dark sand. He forced my eyes to open as he got up and walked towards the shimmering water. Water?

His eyes widened as he dropped down onto his knees. He felt the sand and gripped it in his hands. It was damp.

My heart was suddenly full of exhilaration as he began to dig the sand, pulling out as water poured through.

He stopped and examined the water once there was a huge puddle surrounding it.

What now? How would water help him get back?

He lifted his hand and slowly dipped it in the water. He suddenly pulled it out and his breath caught in his throat when he realized that his hand wasn't wet. It was completely dry.

Clyde stood up, so fast that he nearly toppled in the water. He looked down at his feet, suddenly aware of how he didn't have any shoes on.

He dipped his foot in the water, and felt nothing, not water nor the ground.

He held my breath.

One. Two. Th—

He plunged myself into the water, eyes closed.

It didn't feel like  he was swimming. It felt more like he was flying.