He wanted to scream, but had no mouth. He tried to remember. He was…a man? Yes, that sounded right. That was something. Who was he? Wait, was that right? No, he had always been a formless nothing. No, that couldn’t be right...how had he come to be in this place? He’d always been here…no that wasn’t right either. What was here? Just as quickly as the thoughts formed, they vanished. Panic set in; moments later it would subside as he found a measure of comfort, and then come careening back as it slipped away.
Adrift, as it were, no sense of time or being. All was darkness. Or was it? Was this darkness? He couldn’t remember. He was certain, however, of the silence. Was this existence?
What was that? A noise! No, that was crazy. He was clearly hallucinating.
There it was again! It sounded closer this time…
A wave of terror came over him as he realized the voice came from within. He wanted to escape, desperately, but he was trapped.
He remembered that name. It was…his name. His own name. He was Senguum. Had he always been here?
He tried to remember. Vague inklings of a past existence began to trickle into his mind. And then he knew, with certainty, that this was a place of punishment. What had he done? How long had he been here? Would he ever be free?
A blinding light seared his eyes; he felt…he felt firm hands grip him and pulled him up. Yes…he had arms, and legs, and a cock between them. Suddenly he felt gravity reassert its hold on him, and he found his feet touching the ground. He was unsteady, but the hands held firm. Their grip was like iron, but he found it…reassuring. It comforted him. He was anchored back to reality. So he hoped…
The voice came from without, this time. His eyes began to adjust to the light. All around him was white, but in front of him was seated a man in black.
“You are awake. That is good.”
The man sat in a relaxed, cross-legged posture, but did not seem to touch the ground. He was handsome: cleanshaven, a square, strong jaw, with neatly cut salt and pepper hair with ice blue eyes that seemed to peer into his very soul. His warm, reassuring voice and kind smile (his teeth were as white as the place they were in) instantly putting him at ease. He was…foreign? Was he? He was not sure, but the thought had come to him. Foreign…alien? Otherworldly? Was this man a God?
“You are safe now, Senguum. All is well.”
“All…” he stammered. Yes, he could speak.
“Yes, all is well, Senguum.”
It was strange. The man’s lips moved, but the words did not match up. Was that how people always spoke?
He felt the hands guide him: his body recoiled as he felt himself sit, but the hands held firm.
“It is alright, Senguum. Sit.”
The voice calmed him, and he obeyed.
“Senguum, we must talk.”
“Talk…” he sputtered out. “Talk…yes…”
“You must reveal to me Senguum. You must reveal your crimes,” he said, a hint of sadness in his voice.
“My…crimes?” he shuddered.
“Yes Senguum. You are a murderer.”
Visions of blood and broken glass filled his mind. He did not remember fully, but he knew this being spoke the truth.
“Why…I did not want…”
“I know, Senguum, I know. You are not an evil man…but evil men made you do this terrible thing…”
Yes! That had to be right. He frantically nodded his head. Yes, evil men. Not Senguum, no. He’d been tricked.
“Senguum, you must tell us…”
Yes. He would tell him everything. This man had saved him from the dark place…and would keep him from going back. He would protect him.
He would tell him everything.
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