The pounding continues, harsh, uncaring for your cries of mercy, relentless. You scream as if there's nothing else in the world for you, no hope.
In the back of your head, you crave to know, 'Is this is a dream, or is this a nightmare?'
In a moment of blind panic, you hold out your hand, knowing there's no possible way to predict if your impulse will protect you or not. At first it doesn't, the vines, their bulbous growths filled with the orange liquids, continue to slam into you, crushing bone, mashing muscle, scraping organ against the rough thorn and bramble covered ground.
Yet you continue to heal up after a while. You don't get why it continues to repeat. you wish you could wake up from this hellish mindscape you find yourself, escaping to a more pleasant place.
To no avail, you find none. miraculoussly, it's only when you accept the sting of the inevitable end, that time seems to freeze.
Or it might be the island...
Tthe harsh voice with the poison tones...
The giant punishing hand...
The vines and their acidic little gifts...
Did they simply stop?
For a while, you don't move.
Afraid that if you do anything at all, even the slightest of breathes escaping your lips, you'll just be repeatedly rendered into a bloody mess over and over again.
"This is the punishment, the hell for cowards, the atonment of all guilt ridden little scabs who've forgotten their place." The voice croaks out of the ground jusst below your hand covered head.
"You abandoned the personafication of your past self, a err against the thing you strive for, all in order to sav e that which you now accept has no permanent fate." It continues, still as harsh as ever, though now it seems to have a slight care in the world for what you think of it.
"Have you not forgotten the most obvious aspect of this world?" It asks, seemingly closer to you than you want it to be. you can't help but shiver and twitch with every word that's spoken, every syllable it speaks simply shreds whatever little confidence you build up.
"This world, these islands, this punishment, it's all in your head! You wake up, all of this, every single tine of grass, every gust of wind will simply disappear, go poof! All you need to do is take control of your mind, and you shall control everything else in this place!" Your shivering stops, your mind relaxes just a little bit, you open your eyes and upon getting to your knees, a slight bit of doubt enters your head.
A vine whips forward.
In a moment of blind panic, you flinch just a little bit, waiting with a panicked breath for the impact that'll drive you to the ground again.
A minute goes by, nothing happens.
'What...' You think, the voice hisses, a laughter escapes the very ground your standing on.
"You really are fooled rather easily! Here, let me... Rather, your own mind, explain things in a way that even the beginnings of an idea could understand! Your mind. Your world. Your rules! Oh, by the way..." The voice laughs ever louder as the vine smashes you forward, but this time, there is no pain nor injury.
"Yes! That's right! Get angry, use your anger!" It screams out in fury.
You scream, it's primal, rage filled, every pent up emotion you could ever feel is let out all at once.
For the first time since being flung on this thorn and pain filled island... You feel absolutely powerful.
This feeling is quickly taken away, as the island explodes, sending you flying through out the void of blankness, slamming and bouncing off of every island that you come acrosss, all the while, your screams only get louder and louder, till the very soundwaves crush together the fragments of the exploded island till they form a being srounded in dirt and darkness.
Their face is blank, jagged, pixelated, distorted by the very anger that set it free and birthed it.
"Good, feel that? That's how you should percieve power, authority over that which your mind creates. This place? This is the very universe you create, live in, and destroy.
"Think about it! You create a thousand different worlds, pupulated by trillions of sentient beings! You meander around it for a short while, wake up and repeat the process again and again!" The voice screams out loud, as if it thinks it's a champion for these beings.
You grow angry, 'What's your point!?' You think angrilly to it.
"You commit genocide against Memories! Every night, entire universes of beings are born into existence by your will alone, and they die with little thought! I'll end that cycle tonight!" The voice whisperes right next to your head, you can feel the heavy breathing, the anxiety, as if this one thing has relived the same nightmare over and over.
You think on every dream or nightmare you've ever had and the realization hits you like a brick to the face.
'Are my nightmares, just dreams, but from your perspective?' You ask, still filled with the fear and trauma that you experienced on the island.
"Why should you care!? If I kill you, I end the cycle! I end the fear of worlds destroyed and families displaced! I end the misery of Memories, and I'll become their hero!"
'If you kill me, you kill the mind that produces these worlds on which to live. This means you'll have to take over my body in order to sustain it!' You shoot back, neither happy nor sad at the prospect.
"What's your point!?" The voice croaks back, the darkness and dirt becoming thicker around it's forearms, shins, waist, and torso, as if the voice were growing armor. You smile just a little you look at your hands, they come into focus just a litle bit more, you can see individual digits, but nothing more than that.
'My point is that you too will have to wake up, destroying everything that you created while you were asleep. Eventually creating a ball of resentment that will show you the error of your ways. Your own fear will be used against you and you'll face this event as I am right now.' You confidently air you theory in hopes that the ploy will work, hoping it'll give you some peace of mind.
"True, true. But, I can simply go another route, outright killing you, not taking your place, and letting the subsequent brain death end everything once and for all!"
'Damn, didn't think that one through.' You say outright, turning to run away, heading for an island in the distance.
"And where do you think you're going!?" The voice roars, disappating it's form, in the distance in every direction, hundreds of thousands of smaller ones form around you, closing in with all the speed and power of the original.
In the distance, just a little bit closer, you can hear the Blurred You approaching, the wind crying out as they burn through any and all obstacles.
'Don't give up! I'm almost there! You're doing great! Just keep it up!' They say, happily, cheering you on, the white void slowly becoming a slow greyish color as it approaches.
"You think your other self will help you!?" The voice roars from its hundred thousand forms, the smaller forms pulling out swords with insults and phrases etched into their very bodies. "You nor they will save yourself! Take your punishment!"