[discontinued] THE MEANING OF STUBBORNNESS ▪︎ short story

𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗲 ‣ 𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐓

ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴛᴜʙʙᴏʀɴɴᴇꜱꜱ

( 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 !)

𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐓

¨Not having a clear purpose in life or knowing what to do¨

○○○○

_______________In the distance a body drifted in nothingness, seemingly accepting its fate. The tranquil and eerie void was as cruel as a mistress, lulling those inside it into a calm never ending slumber. The void felt so tantalizing, that simple things didn't matter anymore, like eating, sleeping, breathing. Some say that right before you pass on, your life should flash before your eyes. The void didn't allow that. It called and if it called, you listened. Except, the nothingness wasn't nothing at all. It was water and it was pulling the body gradually towards a watery grave. The body, now aware of its surroundings, struggled against its fate. The body suddenly remembered its name: Pascal.

The void may call to him and damn, it was hard to resist, but it had forgotten one thing: Pascal is too stubborn to die.

Ultraviolet light colored the water. Some things lit up under its glow. That's weird, things shouldn't glow underwater... Where was he anyways? He got his answer when he crashed into the tile wall behind him. He was chained to the bottom of a swimming pool, both his hands bound together with handcuffs. The metal rubbed against his skin, leaving hot angry marks. Pascal's eyes darted around, three blobs moved in the distance. The blobs morphed into bodies. They too, had just woken from their slumber. Had that slumber been natural or had they been drugged? Yes, was the obvious answer. Just then did the realization set in, he was drowning and quickly at that.

His first instinct was to pull on the handcuffs with all his might. The handcuffs tightened, this time cutting his skin. Blood floated in the water. The UV light hit the blood and it instantly turned a light purple. Pascal quickly located all the glowing spots in the pool. The walls of the pool were lined with glowing streaks, smears, spatters and hand prints. So they weren't the first and those before them hadn't made it. After deciding that mindlessly pulling on the cuffs wouldn't change anything, Pascal took his time inspecting his entrapment.

What the actual fuck.

The cuffs were attached to a metal spiral. Its intricate design made his head hurt. Or maybe it was just the absence of oxygen in his brain. He obviously knew what to do, but he couldn't move anymore. His entire body was protesting. The adrenaline had kept him focused, but now that those effects were almost gone, he felt ten kilos heavier. It's almost strange how time seems to move so much slower underwater. Pascal tried to move his hands, fighting against the urge to give in to the void's call. Primal instinct kicked in. He started yanking on the cuffs, while simultaneously trying to reach the surface. He kicked with his feet but could never quite break through the water. He drifted just a few centimeters under the surface. Whoever had done this, was toying with him. The thought caused bile to rise up.