What is it like to die, or experience it?

Well, it's not very pleasant for one, I should know.  

To me it felt like I was falling away from the world and it grew quieter and quieter, a calm came over me and suddenly all the pain, worries, and all of it just became so distant.

Then right when everything seemed so far away, there was a sudden shock and I'm alive again.

My name is Jack Land, and this is my story, my story of how I came back.

================================

Title: Land's Lament

Episode:  22D Special 18

Writer:  Vakash Darkbane

Editor: Ashen Hugo

Test Readers:  Alec Anaconda, Saurex Conway

This is a tribute story using ideas from the Doctor Who Episode “Heaven Sent." by Stephan Moffat

================================

I draw in a breath, my eyes are blinded by a bright flash, my lungs burn, I cough haggardly and find myself trapped in a cylindrical chamber.  The walls are smooth, it could be metal, it could be plexisteel, I don't know I can't see, I'm dizzy and coughing and blinded to top it off.  Slowly much to my relief my vision slowly comes back to me, blurry at first and then codifying into something understandable other than blurs.  Whatever this chamber is, it's contained in some sort of room lit by daylight. I can hear a strange mechanical clanking sound that seems far off and the dull hum of machinery powering down.   The material of my prison is opaque and I can't make out anything outside of where I currently am.  As the coughing fit subsides, I realize I've been confined within a cylindrical chamber. Panic sets in as I frantically search for a way out. 

Stop Panicking.  I tell myself.

I close my eyes and get my breathing and fear under control, I need my wits. I don't have them if I'm clawing at the walls in terror.

I'm in a tube that is big enough that I can stand in it, there has to be a way out.  I got in somehow, I can get out.  I fumble inside and eventually find a seam. I follow the seam with my fingers and find what appears to be a latch. I pull it, and with a sigh of relief I hear a latch release and I step out of the opaque chamber.  There is something strange about this room, something familiar but in the fog of my consciousness, I set this aside to be addressed later.

I step out into an ancient-looking stone-walled room with slits letting daylight in from the top and my boots crunch into what appears to be eons of dust scattered on the floor almost a foot thick. On the wall is a mounted video monitor that shows only static. I pan my eyes around the room and beside the chamber on the floor by what appears to be some sort of strange control console is a solitary skull with two diodes with wires leading to the console attached to it.  The skull appeared to be of an anthro-canine, possibly that of a fox, it's hard to tell.  I barely passed biology in the academy, both times.  

It's boring. I'll die on that hill.

I pick up the skull and remove the diodes and regard it.  “Just what were you up to buddy?"  I say turning the skull in my hands.  It's bleached, and clean, the skin long gone, or burned away.  I hold it and look into its empty eye sockets.

“I've heard old wives tales that sometimes the dead can tell you things if you stare into those empty sockets long enough,"  I say, staring into them intrigued.  “Yet it seems you've lost your jaw so you probably aren't much of a talker."  

I place the skull on the control panel, scoop up a paw full of sand and rub it between my fingers examining it.  It appears to be fine organic dirt, a lot of it, heavy carbon traces, other minerals, no silicon.  Yet there's so much of it it looks like sand.  My fingers feel something as it drains out.  It's a hairpin, an old sturdy type one, made of steel.  What a strange find, I pocket it for later use, I look at the deep pile of sand around me and ponder if it's some sort of vaporization residue.

If that's so, that thought sends a chill down my spine, I feel like someone stepped on my own grave.  That would take a lot of bodies to make a pile of carbonized ash like this.  I shake my hands free of the dust and rub my paws off on my trousers.     

If only I had a tricorder.

As I brush myself off I notice something scrawled in the dirt near the chamber not too far from where the skull lay.

It's a single, solitary word, capitalized for emphasis.

BIRD

It's in Cornerian as well.  My eyes dart to the skull, that solves that question but how'd they get here?  More importantly, how the hell did I get here?

I try to remember, but I can't.  Just impressions, heavily muted.  

Then something strikes me, I've seen this room before.

* * *

Jack, controller gripped in his hands, was eager to dive back into his game. He'd been looking forward to this all day, the pixelated world a welcome escape from reality. But just as he was about to press start, his girlfriend, Terri, walked in.

Her face was etched with exhaustion, dark circles under her eyes. "Hey," she said, her voice laced with weariness, "Do you mind not playing that tonight?"

Jack's enthusiasm waned. "What's wrong?"

Terri sighed, sinking into the couch. "I just got back from that away mission, remember? It was...rough. And that game..." she trailed off, a shudder running through her.

Jack's brow furrowed. He was so close to finishing the game, hadn't had a chance to play in weeks due to work and other commitments. "But I was just about to-"

"I understand," Terri interrupted, her voice strained with the weight of unspoken memories. "But I witnessed some truly horrific things out there. Things I can't forget. And that game...it's just too similar. I don't want to be reminded of it right now."

Jack's initial excitement and anticipation quickly gave way to a simmering frustration. He had been eagerly looking forward to sharing this experience with Terri, and now she was asking him to put his desires aside. Yet, as he gazed into her eyes, he saw the raw anguish and lingering trauma reflected there. The mission had undoubtedly left deep scars on her psyche.

A part of him couldn't help but feel resentful. She knew the risks involved when she embarked on that mission, driven by a desperate need for closure regarding her missing parents. He couldn't shake the belief that she had made a reckless decision, that she would have been better off staying on the bridge and avoiding the horrors that awaited her on that ill fated starship.

Despite his inner turmoil, Jack took a deep breath, forcing himself to suppress his annoyance. He knew that his own desires paled in comparison to the pain Terri was enduring. 

"Okay," he conceded, his voice laced with a hint of bitterness, "I won't play it tonight."

Terri's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Thank you," she murmured.

But Jack wasn't going to give up his game entirely. "Look," he said, "I won't play it when you're over. But I'm not going to stop playing it altogether."

Terri seemed to consider this, then nodded. "Okay," she said, a hint of a smile gracing her lips. "That's fair."

She leaned over and kissed him, a gesture of gratitude and affection. "I'll watch you play it again," she promised, "when I'm ready." 

* * *

“I should have been careful of what I wished for."  I sneer at the skull. “Echidna's are strangely sensitive to things.  I get that she found her parents, and that alien screwed with her head but horrible shit happens on my world all the time.  You grow up in it, you deal with it, you move on.  Shit at least she didn't watch her mother die like I did."

I frown, why am I talking to this dead guy about that?

“Ain't that a bitch?"  I say to the skull.

It says nothing, just those empty sockets staring back at me.

“Whatever."  I skulk around the room, its layout is just like the starting area in Clockwork Castle, it even has the ornate double doors.  “Someone went to a lot of trouble to make all this."  I grab the handles of the doors and turn to the skull.  “If I have to deal with zombies and wraiths I'm going to be seriously pissed off."  With a grand pull the doors open into a round corridor of the central tower that I'm so familiar with at this point.   It even has the iconic rectangular arrow slit-like windows. The only new addition is more monitors every few meters along the inside wall of the curved corridor that only show static. I walk up to one and look out of it leaning out enough to see down the tower.  Sure enough, it's just like the game, except the castle appears to drop down into a vast abyss and a fog bank obscures the bottom.  My nose catches a whiff of salty air.
I slide back glad to have some firmament under my feet and whistle.  I look across the way at the adjoining way and my breath is stolen away.   An iridescent protoplasmic mass in a vaguely humanoid shape is in one of the windows across the way.

This thing looks eerily familiar, it terrifies me and chills me to the bone. I pull back quickly from the window and land on my butt on the floor behind me.  I get up and see that the monitors are now showing this thing, slowly moving away from the window and down a corridor.

Another flash, this time it's painful.

* * *

That same horrible glow filled the cabin. He could feel all his cells start to burn, he could feel himself burn, and a voice somewhere was ominously counting down.

3…2…1...

* * *

I stop clutching my head momentarily to see that the strange entity is gone, probably for the best.  

I hope so. 

“Now where are you off to?"  I muse stepping back from the window and dusting myself off. Suddenly my eyes catch something leaning against a well just up the corridor.   I go and grab it, it's a garden spade, covered with fresh dirt.

The soil is fresh, so I flick it off.  “That's a new one,"  I mutter.  

Definitely not in the game,  I know that game backward and forwards,  so is this a simulation?  Perhaps some artistic license in a holo suite?

An idea!

I chuck the spade as hard as I can down the corridor. It simply continues to bounce and clatter, never once striking a holo grid.

“Shit."  I mutter."Well ok then haha funny joke guys, who put you up to it?  Harry?  I'm ready to leave now this has been fun and all but I'm really starting to get a bit upset!"

Nothing.

I sigh, cast my eyes to the ceiling, and then stop as I notice something in one of the monitors, it's me, well behind me from a distance.  Unless some other fox is running around in this thing with a Starfleet uniform on.  I carefully deduce it's something behind me and I whirl around looking through the window behind me.  And I stop.

That strange multicolored thing is there staring at me again from across that immense gap.

I glance back at the monitor and see myself and when I turn back it's gone.  It's moving off to whatever it's doing gliding along like some phantom, its strange light filling the corridor and spilling out the slatted windows as it passes.

Something else catches my eye, a message written around the window, strangely in what looks to be my own handwriting.

Wherever you go,

It will Follow.   

My eyes darted to one of the random monitors. That thing is approaching, slowly and steadily.

Great a stalker enemy, gotta love those, someone knows how to push my buttons.  

“Terri I swear if this is some sort of sick twisted revenge on me I will get you back."  I growl, then move forward down along this rounded long corridor with the slat windows, casting a glance up at the monitors. That thing is still moving, not sure where to.  I'm not even sure where this corridor goes, who builds a round building with one room?

Should I have used the spade in the starting room to eat some of that sand?  That kind of moon logic works in dumb games like this, if it is still, I'm hoping it's at least inspired by one.  I suddenly stop as I see myself at the end of the corridor.   

I run the other way, I run as fast as I can.

Whatever it is, every part of me wants nothing to do with it.  It's just a swirling mass of color in the shape of a person   

I promptly trip over the damn garden spade and tumble head over heels down the corridor.  I force myself back up and scrabble back to my feet limping slightly past the room I started in, keeping a wary eye on those damn monitors as my friend persistently follows me.   

I come to another corridor.  I'm ecstatic, maybe a way out?

I hobble down it as fast as I can and find the door is locked tight. An old style lock keeps the double doors in place.  Before despair overwhelms me I remember the hairpin in my pocket.  I quickly fish for it and find it and set to work.  

Within moments of jostling around with the lock it pops.  Unfortunately the hairpin snaps as well but  I let out a whoop and throw the doors open only to be met by a brick wall.   

As I stare stupidly at it, that glow that horrible glow fills the corridor.   

That thing is behind me, its strange shape looming ever closer.

“What are you?  I've seen you before!"  I yell at it.   

* * *

My head suddenly hurts, I remember that burning, that horrible light as it filled the cabin of the Talon.

* * *

“Stop!"  I shout at myself clutching my head in pain.  I don't have time for this thing that is blocking my way out.

Dead End.

Game Over.

If I'm lucky maybe I have a save?

No, that's stupid.

Shit.

“Wow. um this is new."  I say feeling a cold chill fill my body, my palms are damp, my feet are damp.  I suddenly really need to take a leak.

That thing's formless arms reach towards me outstretched beckoning me to join it in that sick glow.

I'm filled with terror. My mind tries to look for a route of escape but there is none this thing blocks my path, not knowing what else to do the words just spill out of my mouth.  “I'm scared, I never realized that I'm scared of dying!"

There's a loud clunk, and the thing stops in place, it is almost like it's frozen in time.   

“Was it something I said?"  I muse feeling very uncomfortable and the room starts to shudder, the cogs in the walls are spinning, and the whole building is moving and trembling.   I feel a draft and a waft of salty air, the wall behind me is moving, a gap has opened. I run for it and squeeze through.  

Into a plain bedroom, decor appropriate of course, a bed, a writing desk, a bedside table with fresh cut flowers.  Weird.  Another monitor showing static.  I grab the flowers and sniff one of them just to see if they are real and they seem to be, I sneeze. 

The ole sniffer never liked flowers. I sneezed again, then I saw it, over the fireplace.

A portrait of Terri, a rather large painted portrait of a picture she'd given me for my quarters. 

How did this get here?

I touch it. The paint is ancient, worn and flaked, this is very, very old. I wonder who the artist is.  I lift the painting and peer behind it.  My eyes focus on a small message, in handwriting that looks similar to my own.

I am in 12.

I shudder and put the painting back.  This is so strange and oddly familiar but I can't put my finger on it .

There are a few other items on the hearth as well.  One is a handy hairpin.  Another is a marble, I tap the marble and note how long it takes it to hit the floor and watch it bounce a few times and roll under the bed.  

I hear the monitor change and that thing is coming again.  I spin to see it slowly entering the room.

“Ah, nice to see you again,"  I say.  “You know I love the survival horror aesthetic of this place, you did a hell of a fan project here, I see you've even decided to fuck with me a bit too eh?  Reminding me of the woman that ripped my heart to pieces. Oh that's a nice touch asshole.  Way to stick the ole knife in and twist it."

It slowly drifts towards me, reaching for me again.  I back up plucking flower petals and sniffing the air.

“So what is all this, a joke?  Worse, a prison?  A torture chamber oh your good very good am I right?"      

I grab the stool by the writing desk heading for the window.  I can smell salty air that can only mean one thing.  A hope, a chance.  I hurl it through the glass window and it falls down that precipice, I strain my ears and tap my fingers against my paw trying to remember everything I've gathered so far.

Slightly over three seconds, I hear a distant splash.  It has a nice plop to it.  Perfect.

“I wasn't lying when I said I was scared of dying!"  I quickly turn and run towards the window and dive out of it. “If anyone's going to do the job, it's going to be me!"  

Down and down I go, hoping that if I do survive this I don't hit the damn stool too.  

Wouldn't that just be the ultimate insult to injury, make a dramatic escape only to break my freaking neck on a floating stool I threw in front of me. 

* * *'

The first rule of dying is, don't.

Rule two, always assume you'll survive, even if it seems impossible.

Rule three, slow down and think. 

 Everyone has a store room in their mind where they can go and think.  Lock yourself in there and start thinking.  You have the rest of your life left, so think faster!

Everything else will slow down in turn. 

I like to imagine I'm on the bridge of the Raptor.

Why? 

It's where I thrive, where I feel alive, and where I have always craved attention. The bridge is my stage, my arena, where I showcase my extraordinary piloting skills and revel in the thrill of daring maneuvers.

But what truly fuels my passion is the presence of an audience, someone who can appreciate my talent and acknowledge my brilliance.  Your laughter was like music to my ears, a sweet melody that drowned out the criticism and judgment of others. You saw what they couldn't, the artistry in my movements, the precision in my calculations. Your encouragement gave me the confidence to push the boundaries, defy expectations, and embrace the thrill of the unknown.

Since you dumped me, it's so hollow and empty. Now, I miss our banter, our shared moments of exhilaration, and the camaraderie that we forged amidst the stars.

I grip the console tightly, in my own mind, funny thing to do, I can't help but feel a profound sense of loss. I'm falling, Terri, spiraling into the abyss, and I fear that without my audience, I'm nothing. My passion, purpose, and reason for being have become intertwined with your presence.

I'm dying, Terri, not in a physical sense, but in spirit. Without you, my light has dimmed, and my dreams have faded. I'm a shadow of my former self, a pilot without a purpose, adrift in the vastness of space.

I hop into the con and bring up the screen.  “Well fortunately here, you have to listen to me, and I'm going to tell you exactly how I'm going to get out of this," I say turning in the chair to the motionless shade of Terri in the back of the bridge, the back of mind.

“I thought I smelled salt earlier.  Hence why I gave that stool a toss.  Diving from a great height is no guarantee of survival.  I need to know how far I'm going to fall.  To figure that out I needed to know the wind resistance of the stool, and the atmospheric density.  Hence the petals. The strength of the local gravity was given, noted when I took the tumble in the corridor.  Gravity is probably standard for class M world give or take a few meters per second squared.  You know I do this shit in my head, it's my job.  I navigate starships."

I turn back and glance at the shade of Terri.  “Remember in Rorishard when I  told you I didn't know how many atmospheres of pressure the Raptor could withstand?  I lied.  I work equations all the time in my head for fun.  It's what I do."  I laugh.  “The only one of you who ever saw it was Harry, and you weren't even sharp enough to pick up on it.  I should hit the water at any moment now."

On the viewer, it shows what my eyes see, a bank of thick fog I'm plunging through.

"The problem with being smart is that everyone expects you to use it for their benefit, never your own,"  I say to Terri's shade.   "Look at you always killing yourself to make everyone else's life easier.  Never a word of thanks or appreciation.   Just work work work to what end?   The day you die?   No thanks, sweetheart, I'll keep my secrets just like you do yours."

On the Raptor's viewer, the fog bank broke and water rushed up blazing fast. 

“Chances of remaining conscious are problematic, so brace for impact!"

Wet and cold flooded his senses, 

Slowly the lights on the bridge flickered on, there was water seeping in from somewhere, it was waist high.  

Have you ever had one of those dreams when all you can dream of is water?  You know you need to wake up, but you can't, it's just easier to sleep because you are so tired. 

WAKE UP JONATHAN, PLEASE!

I hear it, I wake, I'm in my own head, why is there water in here?

I hear my console beep as a text message comes across it.

I drag myself up trying to figure out why water is on the bridge, I glance at the text message.

WHAT IS THIS PLACE?

Can't I just sleep?

The console beeps again.

WHAT DID YOU SAY THAT MADE IT STOP?

I slowly remember some idiot decided to jump out of a window.

The console beeps again.

HOW ARE YOU GOING TO.

“Terri you don't always..."

WIN?

* * *

It's another time.

It took a few weeks but gradually life got back to normal. Terri was curled up on the couch with him as he played his game.

“What do you mean you can't win?"  Terri said, frowning.

“That's not the point, it's solving puzzles and getting through the character's story."  Land shrugged as he moved his avatar through the ever-growing maze of the gothic clock tower whacking zombies with a shovel.

“What's the point of playing a game if you can't beat it?"  Terri said scowling.  “Seems like a waste of time to me."  

 “You've been watching me play all night. It's almost bedtime."  Land chuckled. 

“I guess, it's no worse than the scary stories I like to read."  Terri sighed.  “Having lived through one I guess it wouldn't do me any good to keep running from it."

“See, that's how you win!"  Land chuckled finding a save chamber and stepping into it and saving his game.  “Confronting the character's fears and doubts it's how you win.  Not much different from real life."   

“I guess,"  Terri said, yawning.  “You still have to hold me tight tonight, I'm probably going to have all kinds of nightmares now."

“I will, I always will."  Land said, putting an arm around her shoulders and kissing her.

* * *

My eyes open, they sting, and the water is salty, why wouldn't it be, I twist in the water looking for the sun and spot it.  I'm very short on breath I can't stick around  but my mind is screaming at me to look again.

Below me a few yards down, dimly illuminated in the murk is a sea floor covered with bleached white skulls, just like my friend upstairs.

I stare way too long, my lungs burn, I want to breathe water, I thrash and kick for the surface.  

 I break through the water's surface, gasping for air as the darkness threatens to swallow me whole. My vision clears gradually, and I realize I'm between the tower I jumped from and another curved outer wall. At the tower's base, a small stone dock beckons, and I swim towards it with renewed determination. Reaching the dock, I fling myself out of the water and collapse on its surface, savoring the feeling of solid ground beneath me. Laughter escapes my lips as I gather my wits, the thrill of the jump coursing through my veins.

On a side note, I don't have to urinate anymore.

HOW ARE YOU GOING TO WIN?

“Ugh, just give me a moment."  I groan, getting to my feet and walking into the tower.  

The interior of the tower stood shrouded in a dim, ethereal glow, A spiral staircase, its worn steps hinting at countless ascents and descents, coiled upward, beckoning the visitor to explore further. A fireplace roared merrily in one corner, its flames dancing and flickering, casting a warm, inviting light across the room. The heat from the fire radiated outward, enveloping the space in a cozy embrace.

The overall atmosphere of the room was one of tranquility and contemplation. The soft glow of the fire, the gentle crackling of burning wood, however this peace was broken by my own thoughts.

“Wait. Why does that look like my uniform?"  I mutter aloud to no one. Draped over the chair is a starfleet uniform, gold and yellow, apparently hung to dry along with a pair of boots 

Reaching out hesitantly, I picked up the tunic to examine it more closely. The tag clearly stated that it was my size and assigned to me. A sense of horror washed over me as I realized the implications. How was it possible for a replica of my uniform to be here?

The urgent message in my thoughts flashed again, reminding me to stay focused. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get sidetracked," I muttered under my breath.

I changed into the duplicate uniform, carefully placing my wet clothes in the exact same spot where I had found the new ones. I even made sure to transfer the hairpin from one pocket to the other, ensuring that everything was as it had been before.

As I finished dressing, a deep sense of unease lingered within me. The presence of this mysterious uniform raised more questions than it answered. I knew I had to delve deeper into this strange phenomenon, but for now, I had to push aside my concerns and focus on the task at hand.

* * *

Later.

I found a kitchen, it has food.

I stuff my face ravenously. Apple, salted pork, crackers. I don't care what it is, I'm hungry.

There's even a tap with Katina Ale.  

My favorite drink, no big secret there.  

I swill it down chasing the other bits of food as I look around the room contemplating my next move.  On the far wall over the prep table is a monitor showing my friend slowly descending a staircase, continuing its ghostly pursuit.

“I'll give you this: of all the stalkers I've ever faced in these games you are the most persistent bastard of all of them."  As I pace trying to figure out my next move I suddenly stumble and I look down and notice somebody went to a lot of trouble to remove one of the flagstones in the floor, they've also scratched arrows in its neighbors to indicate that something about this was important.

A draft blows through and shakes some hanging pots in the kitchen. I nearly jumped out of my own skin at the rudeness of the sound. Now a bit rattled I move on from this room and explore this new area of the tower.  The corridor has several heavily barred windows that look out into a courtyard.  However, the reckoning of this room's location boggles my mind and makes no sense.   It appears to be outside but the only thing above this room should only be a tower.

Sloppy level design?

Possibly at least they got the physics programmed in, could be a glitch if it's Holosim.

Or maybe this is just an unending nightmare?  

The garden has a few fruit trees growing against the walls and what looks to be a patch of freshly dug ground.  

The Garden Spade!

That's why it was there, it was a clue on what to do next.   I continue onward and find a door to the garden.  It's not locked.  I note this and continue onward.  The corridor seems to loop around and there are two stairways leading upward.  I see one slowly brightening with the glow of the creature and decide to take the other one . I sprint up the stairs as fast as I can hoping for whatever advantage it can give me.  When I reach the top, panting and winded, the monitors show the thing continuing its steady dogged pursuit of me by starting up the very staircase I went up.  

I press forward.

* * *

“I wasn't kidding when I said I was dying,"  I say to Terri's specter in my mind.

“When you cut me off like you did, it was like you ripped a piece out of me."  I say trying to keep her where she is in my mind.  Even in my safest of places I can't get her out of it. 

The pain of her rejection was still raw, like an open wound that refused to heal. "When you cut me off like you did, it was like you ripped a piece out of me," I lamented, my voice thick with anguish.  The memory of that fateful moment in the transporter room lingered, a constant reminder of the cruelty we had inflicted upon each other. I grimaced as I recalled the satisfaction that fleeting moment had brought me, only to be replaced by an overwhelming sense of guilt and regret.

"The satisfaction wasn't worth the look on your face," I confessed, my words tinged with remorse. "It bothered me. It still does. I've never been that cruel to anyone before, but I just wanted you to feel just a fraction of the pain you put me through."  My eyes scanned the corridor displayed on the viewer, searching for the spade,."I wasn't expecting to cut you that deep," I admitted, my voice laced with regret. "Maybe I should have let you talk."

“And then Nova came along, a ray of sunshine in my darkened world. Her sweetness and playful nature, despite her reptilian appearance, had breathed new life into my desolate heart. "She made me feel something again," I said, a faint chuckle escaping my lips. "I wish she hadn't gotten involved, but I just wanted something to fill that hole you left."

The longing in my heart was palpable, a testament to the profound impact Terri had once held. Even in my thoughts, I couldn't escape the lingering desire for reconciliation and redemption. As I continued my search for the spade, I couldn't help but wonder if it was too late to mend the shattered pieces of our past.

* * *

My boot connects with the shovel and I almost trip over it again.

That's what I get for thinking too much.

Snarling in frustration I smatch up the garden spade.

Now I have to wait.   Head back to the stairwell . My pursuer is coming up keeping a wary eye on the monitors watching its point of view as it silently glides up the spiral staircase.  I want it to start chasing me from the top to give me time to get down. I can definitely go down those stairs much faster than up them.  It will buy me some time.

It's obvious something is leaving me clues, I need to find them all, yet it has me  running me through this maze.  What could that something be?

* * *

WRONG QUESTION.

I glance down at the con.

NOT WHAT, WHOM?

The message blinks steadily on my board.

“That's simply one of the other poor souls down in that moat obviously."

WHOM?

Only the single word blinked

* * *

I take some time to rest, my friend takes his time, I count it off as much as I can, tapping the spade in my fingers, counting the seconds, and watching the monitor.  The thing is moving at roughly a meter per second, a normal walk speed from what I can tell.  I should have paid attention to it when I was chowing down in the kitchen but I had other concerns.  It always seems to maintain this pace, never anything faster, especially when I have a lead on it.  This is useful to know.   Time got away from me because I was preoccupied with stuffing my face 

I feel the fur rise on the back of my neck and my ears twitch nervously.

My attention is snapped back to the now I can see the creature's eerie light coming up the stairs.  I grip the spade tightly contemplating taking my chances in engaging it.  The thing seemed to be bound to the same rules as I was.  It appeared to be made of energy but it was confined by the same walls that held me here.

I then remember that engaging stalkers in melee combat is usually pretty stupid.  The light gets brighter and my stalker ascends the final steps, I lead it halfway before I bolt for the stairs.  I unsafely take them four or more at a time. Any advantage I can get on that thing is worth it.  The meal earlier helped restore my strength quite a bit and I vault down the stairs several at a time grateful for the no-slip soles of my boots. 

As I do this I wonder why I am so eager to get out of here.

What will I do when I get out?

Is there even a way out?

WRONG QUESTION.

I know, I know sheesh, I got in, didn't I?  Surely there is a way out.

I finally hit the bottom floor and I make a desperate run for the garden casting my glance at the monitors as I pass.  My friend is making his slow steady progress back down the stairs after me.  I enter the garden and close the door and take a few quick minutes to catch my breath.

Strangely, all this physical exertion doesn't seem to be affecting me like it should.   It's almost like it's not there, strange, yet I feel it.  Stranger yet, this feels eerily familiar and way too many levels that it makes my skin crawl.

I put this aside and I approach the rectangular patch of disturbed soil much like a grave.  I check my friend's position in the monitor mounted on the far wall and start to dig.  

Half a meter, one meter

What sadistic asshole buried whatever it is this deep?

My eyes caught a faint glow in the window, a surge of adrenaline jolted through my body. I bolted out of the hole, slamming the door in the thing's face. Its monstrous form shrieked, trying with all its might to push its way through. I knew I had to act quickly.

In a moment of desperation, I used the spade at hand and jammed it into the ground, wedging it under the latch. The thing shrieked in rage as it realized it was trapped. I stood back, awash in a sense of my own cleverness and quick thinking.

"You might be big and scary," I taunted, "but you aren't stronger than a triangle. Good luck getting that to budge."

The thing let out an unholy shriek, slamming the door several times with all its might. The hinges rattled, and the door creaked under the pressure, but ultimately, it held. My pursuer slinked away, its light disappearing from the windows.

"What, you don't want to keep trying? Are you just giving up?" I yelled after it, a mix of relief and disbelief in my voice.

As its glow finally disappeared, a sense of dread washed over me. "Great, it's learning," I muttered under my breath.

Unsticking the shovel from the ground, I poked my head through the door and looked down the corridor. "What, you don't want to come and get me? It was just starting to get fun. Look, I even removed the spade!"

I cast my eyes at the monitor, watching as the thing moved away from me down some unexplored hallway. The realization that it was adapting, and learning from its mistakes, filled me with a mix of fear and determination.

I knew I couldn't stay in this room indefinitely. That abominable entity would inevitably find a way inside. However, the method by which it would accomplish this remained a mystery to me.

With a heavy heart, I approached the seemingly unremarkable hole in the floor and began to dig, my hands trembling as I worked. Hours passed in a feverish blur, the dirt piling up around me.

As night fell, the stars emerged in the sky above, but something seemed amiss. They appeared artificial, lacking the natural scintillation of celestial bodies. A sense of unease washed over me as I glanced at the monitor, which displayed nothing but an inky blackness.

Suddenly, the stanchions along the walls illuminated, casting a dim glow over the small garden. I quickly hopped into the hole and struck the shovel against the ground, hitting something solid. Tossing the shovel aside, I clawed at the dirt, my fingers desperately trying to uncover the object that had captured my attention.

When I finally cleared away the dirt, I was greeted by a sight that sent a chill down my spine. It was the missing cobblestone from the kitchen, but roughly hewn into it was a message that filled me with a mix of terror and curiosity.

Return to Start

Suddenly, a hollow thud resonated through the room, making me freeze. My heart raced as I glanced around, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound. It echoed again, this time louder and closer. Panic seized me as I realized the noise was coming from beneath me, from the very ground I stood on.

With a sinking feeling in my gut, I stepped back from the hole I had been digging. The soil beneath my feet shifted and writhed as if something was tunneling its way up from below. A sense of dread washed over me as the glowing specter burst through the earth emerging into the whole and looming over me.

I stumbled backward, I slipped on the soil, I'm helpless, my mind racing with fear and disbelief.

* * *

I'm in my safe spot, only seconds from oblivion.

WHAT DID YOU SAY THAT MADE IT STOP?

The message blinks on my con persistently.  I frown, I said the truth.  I was frightened, I spoke it with all interest and intention.  Does it want the truth?  No it's trying to get something out of me, something I don't want to give up easily, why the hell is it trying so hard to scare the hell out of me.

“Come on Terri, you think you got everything all figured out throw me a goddamn bone here!"  I say over my shoulder to her shadow.  “I'm all out of ideas."

Typing.

Tell no lies.

That pain is back, I clutch my head screaming looking like an absolute idiot in front of my nemesis.

* * *

We're in bed, after our first time.  Terri is resting her head on my chest, her leg draped over me running her fingers through my chest fur.

“So," she says softly in a playful tone.  “Confession time."

“What?"

“Well we've done the deed, we've said the words."  She giggled.  “It's something we echidnas do that helps strengthen the bond between lovers.  Tell me a secret."

I run my hand down her back and over her buttocks and over her tail.  “You first."

“Why?"  Terri says playfully.  Scooting up so she can look me in the eyes.

“I gotta think about mine."

“Ok.  My biggest fear is I don't want to be alone."  She said her expression became sad.  “I've lost too many people close to me, every time I get close to someone they either die, or something horrible happens."  she sighed.  “Probably why I've garnered a bit of a reputation around here."

“Yeah, I've heard, but I don't care."  I say."No one's perfect and as long as you're my girl while we're together that's all I care about."

Terri smiles and kisses me passionately, brownie points for me.

“Come on, your turn."

“I can't think of anything specific, you ask me."

“That's not fair you dork!"

“Just ask me anything."

She huffs and blows some of her bedraggled hair out of her eyes.  “Fine, I know one.  Why did you leave the Lylat System and join Starfleet?"

I visibly stiffened, she had to ask that of all things.

“I was bored."  I mutter.

“What?"

“I was bored, wanted to see the universe, it's no big deal."

“You liar!  Oh come on you are ruining this."  she frowns.

I quickly came up with an explanation.  “I'm serious, Starfleet offered a program to get out and see the greater galaxy beyond the Lylat.  At that point I'd only seen my home systems planets!  When I saw the peoples who made up the Confederation and their ships you couldn't stop me from joining up."  I am bluffing and lying as hard as I can.

“Ok, I can see that."  She is convinced. “I just thought there was more to it than that, usually a lot of you have cool stories."

“Not this Fox."  I smirk.  “I'm just looking for good ole fun and adventure."

* * *

Tell no lies.  

Flashes persistently on the con.

* * *

“I didn't join Starfleet because I was bored!!"  I blurt out.

The thing stops inches from touching me.

“What?   Do you want more?  Fine!! I did it because I was scared!!"  I look at its hands, their glowing shapeless forms blotting out my peripheral vision. I was scared I'd die caught up in some stupid fight with rebels just like my mom and sister did!!"  Tears well up in my eyes as I recount the painful memories. "I ran away, and I never looked back because running was easier than staying there and living with the guilt of what I couldn't do. I couldn't save them, and I couldn't face the shame and sorrow that would have consumed me if I had stayed."

At that moment, I realized that my decision to join Starfleet was not merely an escape. It was also a quest for redemption. A way to prove to myself that I am not a coward, that I can face my fears and make a difference in the universe.

The thing stops, a loud thud, it slowly pulls back from me and I scrabble out of the hole.  I still have the garden spade, I might still need it.  The whole castle rattles and rumbles and the strange cogs in the corridors spin . The whole place is alive with motion.    

As I approach the door to the garden I notice a keystone above the door has the number “6" on it.  

There was something I recall about a number, from earlier, I just can't put my finger on it. 

Why didn't I notice it before?  

This corridor has already shifted; there are now multiple branching paths, the whole structure groans and creaks and rotates.  I stop and look out a window at  water, some of the skulls have been stirred up and float up to the surface; they're empty sockets gazing up into the vast outer dark so far above.

I stare at them and despair.  

“It's so hard to be brave when there is no one to pretend to."  I mutter under my breath watching the skulls bob and sink slowly back down into the murk as the whole structure finally grinds to a halt.  

I pause and I remember something, my mind goes back to an earlier time.

* * *

When Captain Sixx introduced the new first officer to the crew, my heart sank. The man was a stark contrast to Commander Magnus, the beloved first officer he was replacing. Magnus had been a paragon of leadership, always looking out for his junior officers, offering guidance and support whenever needed. He was firm but fair, and the only way to get on his bad side was to deliberately try. The news of Magnus taking command of his own ship had been met with cheers, quickly followed by sorrow when we learned it was destroyed in a battle with the Borg.

Bitterness gnawed at me as I watched this new, sullen figure take Magnus's place. Despite being hailed as a hero, he exuded all the warmth of a frozen wasteland. Battle scars marred his face, evidence of extensive reconstructive surgery that he seemed painfully self-conscious about.

From a distance, I observed his isolation. He rarely interacted with anyone except the captain and often ate alone in the mess hall, a picture of misery. Determined to break the ice, I approached him one day, tray in hand, and sat down across from him. "Looking forward to the nebula in sector K-42?" I asked, hoping to spark a conversation.

He looked up, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "I suppose so," he replied, his voice flat. "We'll be the first to really dive into it."

"I'm excited," I admitted. "Riding the gravitational eddies... it's like surfing with a starship."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Have you navigated a nebula before?" he asked, his tone skeptical. "It can be quite challenging."

"This will be my third time," I replied with a hint of pride. "Second in a Confederation Ship."

A flicker of nostalgia crossed his face. "Most navigators are nervous wrecks about such things," he remarked. "I know I didn't enjoy it the first time." A pause hung in the air. 

"What's your story?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity. "You're a bit of a glum little cloud on our happy little ship. And I thought you were a big hero."

His expression darkened, grey eyes locking onto mine, fists clenching. "I'm not a hero," he growled. "I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, doing what anyone would have done."

The temperature in the room seemed to plummet. "I'm sorry," I stammered, regretting my words.

He sighed, the tension easing slightly. "I don't want people to have unrealistic expectations," he explained, his voice laced with weariness. "I'm still processing everything that happened. I hadn't even had three full months before they slapped a medal on me, cleared me medically, and sent me back into space." He stabbed his fork into his food, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I only lost my ship, my crew, my..." He trailed off, taking a deep breath.

"You must be as courageous as they say," I offered gently, "to keep going after all that."

He glared at his plate. "Courage isn't about not being afraid," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's about being afraid and doing what you have to do anyway."

"I understand," I replied, our eyes meeting.  

In that moment, a silent understanding passed between us. His grey eyes pierced through the cheerful facade I presented to the world, seeing the shadows lurking beneath. And I saw in him a reflection of my own struggles. In that shared moment of vulnerability, a connection was forged, and a friendship began. 

* * *

The skulls sink back into the murk, the tower has stopped rotating and I need to get moving.

“I hear you loud and clear, skipper,"  I say, stepping back from the window.  “I have to find my way out of this."

* * *

In the labyrinthine depths of this enigmatic structure, I am a rat, ensnared in an endless maze. I am forced to carry on, my only option being to navigate the labyrinthine corridors and evade my relentless pursuer, whose presence I can see through the ominous monitors. As I wander through countless and winding passages, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation, I eventually stumble upon a familiar staircase leading upward. A glimmer of hope ignites within me as I ascend, believing that this should lead me to where I need to be.

Fortuitously, the staircase leads me back to where I began.  I am tired of lugging the spade around and I set it down out of weariness. However, a sense of unease washes over me as I realize that something is amiss. I had meticulously placed it  where I had originally found it, adorned with fresh dirt, as if it had never been moved. Terror grips me as I scramble to the small bedroom I had discovered earlier, desperately seeking refuge from the unknown.

In the confines of the bedroom, I attempt to calm my racing mind. "Focus, Focus, Focus Jack my boy," I mutter to myself, trying to dispel my fears. I tell myself that it is merely a coincidence, a cruel trick of my imagination. But as I stand there, alone in the darkness, the chilling realization dawns upon me that the spade's reappearance is far from a coincidence. It is a sinister omen, a reminder that escape from this twisted maze may be an illusion, a cruel joke played by fate itself.

Everything in it is as it was, the window is repaired, the stool is back, the flowers still in the vase, the marble, even the hairpin.  I reach into my pocket and feel the original still in there.

Weird, the room appears to have reset, that's. troubling.  I head to the ancient painting of Terri and look behind it.  I found the message.  

I am 12.

I hurry out of the room and look up at the keystone above the bedroom.  It has a number “3".  I hurried back to the room I started in.  Sure enough, there is a “1" on the keystone above it.  

Return to start, huh?  Interesting. 

I got to start taking notes.  I glance at the monitor and see my friend is slowly approaching a staircase, but is a ways off.  I run to the bedroom and sack the writing desk whipping the door right out and dumping its contents on the bed.

There is a blank journal, a pen and pencil set, and a full set of paints.

I scoop up the pens and journal and start quickly jotting down what numbers I have seen and where.

I head to the starting room and open the doors.

The skull is where I left it, it greets me with its grim expression, hello what's this?  My eyes focus on something new.  There is a stairway in this room now leading up.

“Ahhh. you've been holding out on me,"  I say to the skull walking over to it and picking it up and tucking it in my arm.  “Let's see where this goes."

I walk up the stairs and end up on a large parapet.  I look up at that strange sky above me. I've seen this sky before but it's not real.  It's all wrong, it's someone's idea of a sky.  I mutter to myself wondering where the galactic belt is, trying to spot any major stars, anything that looks familiar but it looks so wrong.  I take the skull from the crook of my arm and huff in frustration as I set it in a crenulation facing outward and tap it irritatedly.  It took a moment but my eyes noticed something etched on the stone work.

* * *

Every living being experiences two profound moments that remain shrouded in mystery: the moment of birth and the moment of death. These pivotal junctures mark the beginning and the end of our mortal existence, yet they remain inaccessible to our conscious memory. Perhaps it is this inherent unknowability that compels us to contemplate death with a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

When we gaze into the vacant eye sockets of a skull, we are confronted with the stark reality of our own mortality. The skull, stripped of its flesh and personality, serves as a potent symbol of death's inevitability. It is in these moments of quiet contemplation that we find ourselves grappling with existential questions. We wonder what the experience of dying is like. Is it peaceful or painful? Is there a sense of letting go, or is it accompanied by fear and resistance? And perhaps most hauntingly, we ask whether some part of our consciousness persists beyond the physical body.

The skull, with its empty gaze, offers no answers. It merely reflects our own anxieties and uncertainties back at us. Yet, it is precisely this silence that invites us to delve deeper into the mysteries of life and death. It encourages us to confront our fears and to ponder the nature of our existence. In the face of death's inevitability, we are compelled to seek meaning and purpose in our lives. We are reminded to cherish the time we have and to live fully in the present moment.

I sigh heavily leaning back against that derelict console taking a small break staring into that skull's empty sockets seeking answers to my own predicament, I must be losing my mind. I'm starting to wax philosophical. I've caught my breath, the fear has died down a bit and of course I took the skull with me, it's less crazy if I at least have something to talk to.

* * *

As the relentless passage of time blurred the distinction between days, keeping track of their sequence became an exercise in futility. My sole objective was to snatch precious moments from the clutches of my relentless pursuer. A strategy emerged from my desperation, a deceptive maneuver that involved luring my adversary to one end of the labyrinthine tower complex. As they succumbed to the ruse, I summoned every ounce of strength in my weary limbs, sprinting with abandon toward the opposite end, each step a pulse of adrenaline coursing through my body. This desperate gambit granted me a reprieve, a hard-earned hour and a half of respite.

In the depths of this hellish maze, I was haunted by the echoes of your voice, a spectral melody that wafted through the corridors of my mind. Your words, though indiscernible, carried an emotional weight that tugged at my heartstrings. An inexplicable sense of proximity lingered, the unsettling feeling that you were near, perhaps even in the same room as me. This phantom presence, both comforting and unsettling, added an ethereal layer to the surreal nightmare that had become my existence.

Maybe I am finally going mad.

The rest I do get is never a full sleep, it's nearly a meditation they teach you in training, so you are still alert. I can't afford to fall asleep, so I tap my finger about once a second and focus on that to stay alert. There have been a few close calls, but so far I've been fortunate.

That gives me just enough time to rest, eat, and plan. I've been making use of my little journal, and this place is very disorganized, just like me. All the rooms are numbered, but I have yet to determine if they mean anything. Some aren't revealed yet because the tower is waiting on me. This place makes me want to spill all my darkest fears and truths just to move forward. I don't like it.  Everyone has secrets, what makes mine so special?

How do I sleep you may ask?  Good old Cornerian Military training.  It's like meditation, controlled breathing, tapping a finger, monitoring your breathing, still alert but you can get some rest.

There have been a few close calls, damn my habit of falling asleep but I'm getting better at it.  Strange though, it doesn't seem like time passes appropriately when I do sleep.  Sometimes it seems like it takes hours and other times it seems right.  Sometimes I awake with a start and feel invigorated, others I barely and sluggishly roll out of a chair in the nick of time to escape getting grappled by my friend. 

The strange thing is even with all this running around like a madman, I can't seem to get tired, it's more like I suffer from the idea, or memory of tiredness.  It's almost like it's the ideas of sleep and tiredness you experience when you do either in a dream.  

This place has so many rooms, I've found a ballroom, a library, a sitting room, a smoking room, it's all over the place.  It's like this whole structure is based on somethings idea of what a building should be but doesn't quite understand it.   

* * *

What did I see that was so disturbing?

I'll get to that, I left ole' skully up there to keep an eye on that situation.  

What I saw up on that parapet was absolutely chilling.

I was terrified and ran from it. What else would anyone do in my place?  As I navigated the ancient staircase, I nearly collided with my friend, my heart pounding with fear. The reason behind my panic was the sight that awaited me at the parapet above, where astronomical calculations and constants were scrawled in my own handwriting.  All of it was Lylatian star math, one of those strange things I'm surprisingly good at. It was as if someone had played a cruel joke on me, using my own penmanship to convey a sinister message.

The parapet was covered in chalk hash marks, countless lines meticulously drawn, stretching for what seemed like an eternity. Hundreds turned into thousands, and then condensed into numerical representations to save space. But as I tried to avert my gaze, a horrifying realization dawned on me—it was a representation of time.

I checked the math and double checked it, it was correct.  

Seven thousand years.

This haunting number stared back at me, leaving me questioning why I would scrawl such a thing and who could have compelled me to do it.

* * *

I sit on the dock now, my old uniform is still there drying in the adjacent room with the hearth.  I consume a cookie from the larder looking out over the water, my feet dangling over the edge.  As I look down into the murky depths, the moonlight reveals a multitude of skulls, their empty sockets seeming to judge and watch me. Some of them occasionally float up and bob for a few moments before sinking back down into the murk, adding to the eerie atmosphere.

I haven't seen anyone here who could compel me to scrawl that madness above me.  I haven't run into another living thing.  Everything about that parapet bothered me. It was as if the very essence of time itself had been etched onto the parapet, a testament to the countless years that had passed. The weight of this revelation was almost unbearable, leaving me wondering about the secrets hidden within those ancient walls and the role I played in this strange and unsettling puzzle.  I finish my snack. I need to move before big ugly catches up to me.  Worryingly enough now no matter how many times I've come down here I never catch my pursuer coming down the stairs to intercept me, only on the way down.  There must be some unfathomable sub aquatic passage it uses to get down here that is faster then the route I use.  A smile crosses my muzzle as I pray that this causes the bastard some amount of frustration to be run endlessly in circles.

* * *

I spend way too much time trying to map this place out in the journal, it's starting to look like a mentally unhinged person is scrawling in it.  I'm trying to make my map as meticulous as possible jotting down everything I can't keep straight in my head and every minute detail of each room I encounter.  

I have noticed one thing, some of the rooms reset, others don't.  If I get bored and take the time to create something and leave it in a resetting room, it stays there.  Everything else goes back to normal but my little knick knacks stay.  I've resorted to just using paper airplanes to test this theory, there is a ream of paper in the library that continuously regenerates.

The grave-shaped hole where I found the buried cobblestone fills back in with dirt and looks like no one has ever touched it.  Oddly, the kitchen where it came from never replaced it.  However, it always restocks with food so at least I won't starve while losing my mind here. 

I wish I could get my head around this place, this strange homage to an old video game and my own personal hell it seems. 

As I savor the rich, savory flavors of the hearty soup I've prepared for my midday meal, I find myself seated at the head of an expansive, ornately carved banquet table within a majestic dining hall bathed in warm, natural light. The grandeur of the space is awe-inspiring, with high, vaulted ceilings, intricate tapestries adorning the walls, and sunlight streaming through stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the polished marble floor.

The aroma of the soup, a comforting blend of herbs, spices, and simmered vegetables, fills the air, creating a sense of warmth and contentment. I take a moment to appreciate the simple pleasure of this delicious meal, savoring each spoonful and relishing the feeling of nourishment it provides.

I'm aware that I have at least thirty minutes before I need to continue on my journey, and I'm grateful for this brief respite. It's a chance to pause, reflect, and recharge before venturing back into the depths of this tower again. As I enjoy this peaceful interlude, a question bubbles to the surface of my thoughts, a curious inquiry that seeks exploration and understanding.

Why am I here? 

Wrong question.

How did I get here?

I'm sitting in the large dining room eating one of my meals as this question crosses my mind.

Wait, that is a good one.  

My head seers with that piercing pain again.

Then I remember.

* * *

“You've always been a good friend Jack, even when you drive me nuts." Harry smiled.

“You too buddy,“ I say, grasping Harry's hand, my other hand behind my back, fingers clenching around the handle of the crank. “That's why I can't let you do this."

My arm lashes out, bringing the crank across Harry's jaw with a dull crunch. Harry's eyes, bright with fear brought on by betrayal, rolled back as he lost his grasp on consciousness. I drop the crank to catch Harry. My wrist throbs, protesting against the sudden stop the crank had experienced while swinging it into my friend's face.

“You told me once.the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one. Well, this ship, this crew, they need you a lot more than they need me." I say sighing heavily, walking over to the console and programming in an automatic door closure. "I've got a way better chance of making this trip than you do anyway, and you know it."

Harry groans, trying to speak, but nothing intelligible comes out.  He's a lot tougher than he looks. That little stunt I pulled would have knocked me out cold.  His jaw was a lot sturdier than most my fist had connected with over the years.

"You, sir, are just too stubborn to let the rest of us take the risk. It's appreciated, but like you told Terri," he said, quickly initiating the countdown, "it comes with the job. You take care, Harry. Catch you on the flip side."

* * *

As the memory receded I sat staring into nothing, mid-sip, my spoon dropped from my fingers, and bounced out of the bowl, splashing me with food and clattering to the floor. The suddenness of the incident startled me, and I stood up abruptly, no longer feeling the hunger that had driven me to eat in the first place.

As I boarded the Talon, powered it up, and left the Raptor,  I was filled with determination, accepting the fact that I may not return from a risky endeavor I had set out on. The memory was hazy, and I couldn't recall the exact circumstances that led me here, except for the moment I woke up in that strange chamber where this all began.

A thought crept into my mind: could this be the afterlife, the final frontier, the great beyond? It was strange that I couldn't remember what I had done to end up here. But as quickly as an answer came from buried somewhere in my subconscious I dismissed it, choosing to focus on the present.  That was the past, dwelling on it won't help me now.  

Eager to find a way out of this enigmatic place, I hurried through the seemingly endless hallways. There had to be something I had missed, something I wasn't seeing. After all, I had arrived here somehow, so there must be a way out. Hope clung to me as I continued my exploration.

As I traversed the corridors, my senses heightened, searching for any clue that could lead me to freedom. Every corner turned, every door opened, felt like a step closer to unraveling the mystery of my arrival and, more importantly, my departure. 

In a desperate skidding stop, I find myself before a mysterious corridor that wasn't there before. Confusion washes over me as I frantically check my notes, only to find no mention of this hidden passageway. The haunting question of how long it had been there gnaws at my mind. It's been a while since I last traversed these halls, and I can't help but wonder if the deprivation of a proper night's rest is slowly eroding my sanity.

The absence of my simple bed on the "Raptor" fills me with a bittersweet longing. Despite the thin mattress and malfunctioning pressure adjuster, I'd gladly trade places just to experience a peaceful slumber. Endless hours of restlessness have taken their toll, and I yearn for the comfort of my familiar surroundings.

With trepidation, I cautiously approach the side passage, my nerves jangling with anticipation and paranoia. Time is not on my side, and I know I can't linger here too long or risk becoming ensnared by my pursuer. In one swift motion, I pull open the double doors marked with the number twelve, only to be met with a blank wall.

Disbelief washes over me as I frantically search for any indication of an entrance. Suddenly, I spot a narrow gap, a mere few centimeters across. An eerie orange glow spills through the opening, revealing a long, dark corridor. I peer down it, my heart racing with a mix of hope and apprehension. It's impossible to squeeze through such a tight space, yet I can't shake the feeling that this is the way forward.

* * *

Later.

With a flick of my wrist, I send the chalk arcing through the air, over the precipice of the window ledge. It tumbles into the nothingness below, yet I know it will materialize harmlessly back in the bedroom, a quirk of this place, this time.

My hand, usually steady, trembles slightly as I etched another mark onto the rough stone wall, tallying the days that have ticked by since I arrived in this... predicament. Each stroke of the chalk against the stone echoes in the silence, a stark reminder of the solitude that has become my constant companion.

Though the count of days is but a fleeting speck in the grand expanse of time that has unfolded since the first poor soul was transported here, the ritual of marking them feels important, a desperate attempt to cling to some semblance of order, of control. After all, it was a similar record, left by someone who came before me, that provided the first glimmer of hope in this otherwise disorienting reality.

I am on the parapet again, gazing up at the unfamiliar constellations. The notes scrawled all over the walls make sense, following the expected patterns, but the stars themselves seem wrong. I hop off my spot on the crenulation and look at the skull I brought up here a while ago. 

"Someone is leading me down a deliberate path," I say to my bony companion. "It's a game that I can't seem to stop playing; a game that everyone else has already lost." 

I move back to the crenelation, bracing myself for what I know is coming next. "I know how to move that wall, Terri," I continue. The glow emanating from the stairs grows stronger. "As long as I have enough confessions, I can move that wall." I grip the crenelation tightly and prepare myself for what is about to happen. 

"I don't know how or why I ended up here, but according to these numbers, I've been sent at least seven thousand years into the future." The figure comes closer, reaching for me with glowing fingers. But even in this moment of fear, my mind is racing with questions. "But it can't be real," I mutter aloud. "So then what is controlling the movement of these stars?" 

Suddenly, I twist around to face my foe head-on. "Almost ten years ago, there was another war in the Lylat System," I began to explain. The figure freezes in place as I speak. "Everyone could feel it coming; you could practically taste it in the air. And some people thought they could make things better by killing anyone who disagreed with them." My voice trembles with emotion as I recount this painful memory.

 "I was just a naive kid back then, freshly graduated from flight school and assigned to Katina, just like my father. It wasn't the smartest move to put someone like me behind the controls of a multi-million credit starfighter, but I was good at it. Or at least, I thought I was." My hands begin to shake as I continue to remember the events of that day. 

"These terrorists, or whatever the hell they were, attacked Katina's base because it was one of the only remaining strongholds for the Cornerian Defense Force. And if Katina fell, so would the rest of Lylat." I take a deep breath and try to steady myself. "My father thought it was a brilliant idea to have our whole family in supposedly one of the safest places during this chaotic time. But it turned out to be the biggest mistake he ever made." My voice grows hoarse with emotion as I continue to speak. 

"There were so many enemy ships swarming around us, equipped with technology from the first Lylat War. Our skies were filled with them." A lump forms in my throat and tears prick at my eyes. "We had enough skilled pilots to handle them; we were considered the best after all. Reinforcements were on their way. All we had to do was fly and make the other guys die." My fists clenched tightly as I remembered what happened next. 

"But a few enemy ships broke off and headed towards civilian shelters. And guess who got assigned to intercept them?" Despite my best efforts, my voice breaks with emotion as I utter the words: "Me." Tears stream down my cheeks now as I relive that moment of hesitation and regret. "I panicked," I admit through gritted teeth. "And because of that, my mother and sister died." The weight of guilt and sorrow crashes down on me as I confess these painful memories aloud. "They died because I couldn't make a split-second decision and act on it. It's all my fault," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart. "I didn't join Starfleet because I was bored or looking for adventure. I did it because I was scared and wanted to run away from my past." My eyes narrow in anger as my endless pursuer looms over me. "And fuck you for making me say all of this!" My words echo off the walls of the parapet as I finally release years' worth of pent-up emotions. My chest heaves with each ragged breath as hot tears continue to stream.

An eternity passes before the thing pulls back, a loud thud reverberates throughout the castle. That low persistent grinding and rumbling, my pet skull rattles in the crenelation and falls off the parapet down to the murky water below to join the others.  I don't have time to dwell on this and I run past my stalker and down the stairs I need every moment I have got to get to room twelve.  However, just to be cheeky I stop for the briefest of moments.

“See you downstairs,"  I tell my stalker.

My heart beats like a jackhammer as I reach the double doors of room 12. With all my might, I throw them open and am met with a sight both welcoming and eerie. The walls are smooth and black, unlike any other part of this structure. It's almost like marble or granite, but colder to the touch. I run my hands along the wall, following the faint glow that leads me towards my escape.

Time is running out. I can hear the creature on the stairs, getting closer and closer. My fingers click nervously as I approach a monitor that shows its progress. But I press on, determined to make it to the final room. And there it is, the source of the glow: a wall made entirely of diamond. Beyond it, a doorway with the word HOME emblazoned in bright, glowing letters.

This has to be it, my way out of this nightmare. But then I catch a whiff of something sickly sweet, and my fingers stick to the diamond wall as I run them over it. As I step back, I see small chips of calcium and chunks of flesh, in varying states of decay, scattered on the floor along with a fine coat of powder at least an inch deep. The smell of blood fills my nostrils as I realize what happened here.

Instantly, everything falls into place with a soul-crushing weight.

BIRD.

“Bird?" I mutter wondering what it is my mind is screaming at me to pay attention to.

Oh no! 

Oh GOD no!  

Everything clicks into place, so horribly and perfectly in place.

It all comes rushing back to me now - every horrific memory of this hellish place. The realization hits me like a ton of bricks and I slam my fist against the console in my mind palace before collapsing against the wall in reality.

I should have known.  The portrait of you, a monster from my nightmares, this place is a torture chamber intended for me only, and all those skulls.

Why would anyone else be in my own hell?  The answer, there never was.  The horror of it is, there's never been any other prisoners, just me, and I've been here a very very long time.

I remember Terri, I remember everything, a constant cycle of running through this place over and over again, taking the same actions over and over again, and the grim solution that my way out is through that wall using only my flesh, bone and blood because I never remember it till  now.

I have to go through this diamond wall to get out of here.

How much blood do I have to shed to escape?

Tears stream down my face as I slide down to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

I barely pay my pursuer a glance as it appears at the end of the corridor.

* * *

In my mind palace, the facsimile of the bridge of the Raptor the place I would give anything to be right now.

The con beeps.

“I can't keep doing this Terri."  I sob.  “You don't understand, I remember it all."

The con beeps again.

“Every single time."  I say pounding the ground in frustration.

I don't want to look, I don't care, it would be so easy to just stop.

My stalker draws closer.

“Jonathan."

Her voice sounds like it's in my ear. I feel a touch on my muzzle as it's gently turned towards that face I never thought I'd see this close again, I stare into her green eyes and she smiles at me.  Her face is so much different, it has worry lines, it's softer, her hair is longer, it drapes her spines. If anything she looks more beautiful than I remember her.

“I know you can hear me.  Come back to me please, Keep fighting. I know it must seem impossible you are running out of time, but you can beat this.  Get up off your ass and win!"

* * *

“Yes, sir."  I say aloud standing to brush myself off.

I know what I have to do, I have my orders.

She's out there somewhere, waiting for me, she wants me back.

I straighten my uniform and stand tall. She is my commanding officer after all.

“No more confessions, fresh out."  I say with bored derision to my pursuer as it makes its way towards me.  “I am going to tell you the truth."

I flex my wrist and fingers, just another few microns further, such a minuscule amount of progress it's a lot when you have nothing but eternity.  A wind back a punch and throw it at the wall 

*CRUNCH*

I cry out and punch again.

*CRUNCH*

That muted pain, it's almost like a dream, it hurts but nowhere near like it did when I hit Harry.  

“I'm done talking to you, not that you care much anyway."

*CRUNCH*

I draw in a breath to try to suppress the pain in my hand.  I've got to hit that wall with all I've got.

“I'm going to do something way more annoying, I'm going to get out of here and you aren't going to stop me."  

*CRUNCH*

“Then I'm going to go back to my friends, my ship and we're going to unload the full fury of the Raptor into this place and take you with it!!"

*CRUNCH*

I laugh.  “That might take a while, so how about a little story."

I feel the skin on my knuckles is split and peeled away and crimson trails along the floor and splashes the wall adding to the stains already there.

*CRUNCH*

I feel my hackles rise, it's right behind me.   

*CRUNCH*

“It's a story my mother loved, and I love it too, a story of perseverance and determination.  Something I'm sure you understand."

*CRUNCH*

My hand is just a ball of pain at the end of my arm. I can't even feel my fingers, I can see bone.

“A long time ago, there was this emperor and he asked this shepherd's boy, “How many seconds in eternity?"  And the shepherd's boy says."

That strange light envelopes my vision as that thing closes its hands about my face.

Unimaginable pain fills my senses, I scream and everything goes black.

Cornerians are a stubborn lot.  It takes a lot to kill us.  I suppose having binary suns can do that to you.  We can take forever to die, even if it's fatal every cell in our body still fights to live.  Dying can take days. That's why we like to die among our own kind. They know not to bury us early, it can take days for us to die.  It's why in war when we kill, we are ruthless, we double tap.  A mercy that is far better than suffering for days on end, waiting for help that will never come.

An eye flicks open, only one, it's all I need.  I can't feel half my face, I can barely feel anything.  I flex my fingers, my toes, they work but they are sluggish.  I push myself up.  

I don't know how long I've been out.  I think in my current state, it will take at least a day to get back up the tower.  I slowly start to drag myself back down the corridor leaving a trail of blood behind me.   I think . I might have just that long left in me to get there.

An eternity passes for each inch I fight for. The pain is unbearable but I press on.

Time is running out as I drag my ruined body back to the room I started in.  

The room has reset, therefore that chamber I appeared in should too.  It's a transporter or a teleporter.  Regardless it has a pattern buffer, in that buffer is a copy of me as I was when I arrived here so long ago.

I can barely stand as I stagger to the console. My body is no longer feeling pain and I can barely feel it.  I gasp as I lay across the console and use my remaining functioning arm to grab up the diodes whose wires run deep into the console's inner workings.   

I've heard it said that time is the fire in which we burn, all this device needs is energy, All you need for energy is something to burn.  I'm running out of time, so all that's left is me.

I stick the diodes on opposite sides of my skull.

How long do I need to do this?

Burning the old me, just to make a new one?

In the vain hope you'll still be there waiting for me when I escape.

I guess that's love for you.

* * *

On the viewer in my mind palace I see that damnable lever.

The bridge is in shambles like it is after a long battle, the lights are flickering, everything is highlighted in red.  Normally I'm calm, but this is my last hurrah, at least for this go round.

I steel myself as I reach for the activation lever and throw it.  Energy courses through my body but I can barely feel it, all I feel is the darkness closing in at last, that rest I so desperately want, then it will be the next one's turn.

One last thing to do, I slowly scratch the word Bird into the dust and….

* * *

The cogs begin to turn and the whole castle begins to shudder as it returns to its default state. All the rooms return as they were found and the chamber fills with light that cycles wildly until a form manifests inside it of a humanoid fox.  The cleaning function leaves the scrawled message in the dirt and the ravaged body of Jack Land slowly dissolves away until only a cleaned skull remains with only the diodes attached.  A muffled cough is heard and then frantic scrambling until they regain their calm and find a way to open the chamber.  Jack Land emerges from the chamber, his eyes darting around taking in his surroundings.  

He sees a skull on the floor unaware of its true nature and picks it up removing the diodes and regards it curiously

 “Just what were you up to buddy?"  He muses, turning it in his hands and scrutinizing it closely.“I've heard old wives tales that sometimes the dead can tell you things if you stare into those empty sockets long enough,"  Jack says, staring into them intrigued.  “Yet it seems you've lost your jaw so you probably aren't much of a talker."  

Shrugging Jack placed the control panel then scooped up a paw full of sand and rubbed it between his fingers examining it.  He pauses as he finds a hairpin amongst the sand and he quickly pockets it.

His curiosity at his predicament seems to be underpinned by an utter sense of dread as he continues to investigate his surroundings and he notices a word scribbled in the dirt in his own language, just a single solitary word.

Again the process repeats as before again and again and again.  Jack follows the breadcrumbs he left for himself. He flees from his stalker, he dives from the tower he explores his prison he finds the clues he figures out the puzzle and makes it to the final square again, maybe a few slight alterations but once more he steals himself once clarity is achieved and strikes the wall again with his fist repeatedly till his stalker clutches him, searing him with its terrible energy and then vanishes.

He regains consciousness, drags his bleeding and scorched body back to the room, repeats the same actions and before and dies again only to be reborn.

Over and over again he continues repeating the same actions.

Many repetitions later he stands on the parapet at night overlooking the endless sea that surrounds the tower.

The calculations are changing and expanding, this is worrying to him.

"I don't know how or why I ended up here, but according to these numbers, I've been catapulted twelve thousand years into the future."

*CRUNCH*

“And the Shepherd's boy says."

He screams in agony as the creature grabs him. 

Many more repetitions later he stands on the parapet at night staring out at the ocean that surrounds the tower.

The calculations are changing and expanding, this is worrying to him.  The calculations are starting to slowly take up the entire floor of the parapet. This is more worrying to him. 

"I don't know how or why I ended up here, but according to these numbers, I've been catapulted six hundred thousand years into the future."

*CRUNCH*

“And the Shepherd's boy says."

He screams in agony as the creature grabs him. 

Many, many more repetitions later he stands on the parapet at night surrounding the tower.

The calculations are changing and expanding, this is worrying to him.  The calculations are starting to slowly take up the entire floor of the parapet. Now on the stones of the crenulations, running nearly up to the top his unease is growing he's muttering to himself, arguing with his own mind.

“This is impossible, over a million years."

*CRUNCH*

“And the Shepherd's boy says."

He screams in agony as the creature grabs him. 

Microns become millimeters, millimeters become centimeters, small chips become a mark, a mark becomes a small hole, a small hole becomes a larger hole, that hole cracks and it forms a bigger hole.

*CRUNCH*

“There's this mountain of pure diamond!"  Land cries out trying to keep the pain at bay his knuckles are just bone and the skin is torn from them he is bleeding profusely down his hands.  The creature is drawing closer.

“It takes an hour to climb it and that long to go around. AHHHHHHHHHH!!"

He's remembering sooner.  He stares over the water as everything clicks into place. 

“Fifty-two million years."   He glares, he knows what he has to do now.  He sits and he waits, his stalker makes his way up the stairs of the tower and approaches him.  He waits till the last moment.

“I'm done telling you my story, I'll admit I was a coward and I have been for some time now.  I should have faced my problems instead of running from them.  It didn't bite me in the ass until Terri.  All he wanted was for me to better myself and I was so set in my ways I couldn't see past my own bullshit.  I'm done running, I'm done with this and I'm done with you."

The creature pulled back and the castle shuddered.  Land stepped around it. 'I'll see you downstairs."

Mere moments later he's facing the diamond wall. It now has a humanoid shaped hole in it, the floor covered with piles and piles of dried skin and bone chips.

BIRD

I can't keep doing this Terrii, Every time I remember all of it.

“Get up off your ass and Win!"

*CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH*

“Every hundred years a little bird comes and sharpens its beak on that same mountain AAARGH!"

“Nearly a billion fucking years."

A meter becomes two.

*CRUNCH*

“And when the entire mountain has been chiseled away, the first second of eternity will have passed!!  AHHHHHHHH!!*

*CRUNCH*

“You may think that's a long time."

“Over a billion years."

*CRUNCH*

“Personally I think."

The light is so bright, he's so close.

He screams and swings his fist with all of his might bracing for the pain but none comes, the wall shatters and it breaks like candy glass.  He steps back as it cascades down and the light washes over him.  He looks over his shoulder and the creature vanishes as if it never was anything more than a figment of his imagination.  He can't see what's in the light but it's warm, it is full of life and it's noisy, there are voices and the sounds of machines and nature and activity.

Feeling emboldened he straightens his uniform and bravely steps forward into that bright light.

* * *

“Jonathan!??  What did you say?"  

The voice is familiar and distant and too loud.  

“Doctor Oona, come quickly!! His eyes are opening!!"  He hears Terri's voice say wracked with joy and tears.

He blinks, and his eyes hurt. There is too much everything he tries to move his arms and legs but they are sluggish and unresponsive.

“Mr. Land, I suggest you stay still."  He hears another female voice that sounds familiar from long ago.  “His vitals are strong, cerebral activity is normalizing."  He feels something get detached from his head and his eyes look around and he groans as a light is shone into them.

“I'm sorry Jack, I have to make sure your responses are good."  He hears the voice of Doctor Oona.  He nods and he finally remembers her.

“Do you know who I am?"

“I can say for once, I'm very happy to see you."  Jack says just happy to see another friendly face.

Oona's scales flush as she's taken aback by his comment but she smiles at him.

“Do you know who this is?"  Oona says motioning to Terri.

“I do." Jack croaks. "Hello, beautiful.  I came a long, long way to see you again."

“We know,"  Terri said, holding back tears.

“I'm sorry for what I had to put you through, Jack."  Doctor Oona said, smiling at him.  “Whatever the Void Creature did to you it didn't leave too many active neurons left in your brain, I had to pull from whatever you had most active in your mind and memories.  I told you playing those games all the time would rot your mind.  I had to break out the neural holographic matrix like I had to do for your friend all those years ago."

“How long?"  Jack asked.

“Only about a year."  Terri sniffed.  “Nothing compared to what you went through in the construct."

Land nodded, sighing heavily, wishing it only felt like a year.

“Terri, you can stay and talk to him for a bit but if he needs to sleep let him."  Doctor Oona said finishing shutting her equipment down and putting it all together on its cart.  “My job here is done, he's stable, but I'll be here for a few more days if you need anything."

“Thank you, doctor."  Terri said, grasping Land's hand and feeling him weakly squeeze back.  

“Doctor."  Land croaked and Oona stopped.  “I owe you one, thanks."

Doctor Oona nodded, smiled and left the room.

“How did you manage to get her?"  Land asked.

“Well she's one of the best when it comes to matters of the mind."  Terri said.  “A friend of mine pulled some strings, she didn't have to pull too hard to get her to come help you, she said you were shipmates once."  

Land nodded.

“What did you try to say earlier?"  Terri asked, kissing Land on the cheek.

Gingerly he reached up with his free hand and put it to her face. It was different, softer, more worn but he was glad to see it.  

“I think that's one hell of a bird."  He chuckled with a bit of a cough.

Terri looked empathetic and confused but she wrapped her arms around his head and put her face against his leaning over the bed.

Jack felt her tummy, that was odd, she'd put on some weight in fact a lot it seemed.

He gently pushed up with his fingers into her stomach feeling a bulge.

“What's this?"  He asked.  “You miss me so much you binge eat."

Terri laughed.

“You want to know?"

“Yeah."

“Are you sure, it might be a bit much."
“It can't be any worse than what I've been through."

Terri took a breath.  “I tried to tell you back on the Intrepid, but. It doesn't matter."

“Stop.  You are here now, that's all I care about."  He suddenly felt something kick back at his fingers.  “Oh."

“Oh?"

Land smiled.  “Is it?"

“Yes.  A girl."  Terri smiled.

“Well, then we probably all need some rest."  Land said feeling his energy leaving him and a normal sleep slowly creeping up on him.  He had a lot of questions but right now he had the few answers he cared about.  

Terri crawled up into the biobed with him and laid her head on his chest. He put his arm around her.  A few weeks ago this would have been impossible but once Doctor Oona's treatment had started showing progress he was taken off life support and resumed breathing on his own, eventually he was just hooked up to an I.V. and oxygen as he continued to improve.  She didn't care if the orderlies would complain, she was just glad to have Jack back. 

“So, we're good again?"

“Yes, Jonathan.  It's all behind us."

Jack yawned and nodded as they kissed.

“Want to make this official, if we're starting a family?"  He asked.

Terri laughed.  “Is that your proposal?"

“I came back from the dead for you. What more do you want, babe?"  Jack said with a weak and tired smirk. 

Terri looked at him in his tired half-open eyes.  “Just you."  She kissed him but he fell asleep.  She smiled, there'll be plenty of time for that . Again, she was exhausted too and she settled down and fell asleep listening to his heartbeat.

End.

Author's Note:

Of all the tribute stories I have done, this one is probably the one that I couldn't change as much as I wanted to.  The other would be “Paradigm Shift."  I try not to do these stories too often because they aren't so much “original" but what is anymore. They are very fun to write and help get me back into doing more original works.   Anyways I highly recommend watching the Doctor Who Episodes “Face the Raven." “Heaven Sent." And “Hell Bent."  They are excellent and well worth watching.  Heaven Sent had a great impact on me and I've always wanted to do a cover of it from this.  I kicked it around a bit trying to figure out who to cast in it and eventually as the series went on an opportunity presented itself to use Jack Land.  Originally I wasn't going to bring him back, but then my best friend passed away.  

Jack has a lot of my friend in his personality, so sod that.  I couldn't have my friend back but I had the power to bring his analog back.  It was just a matter of how.  I'm sorry if you expected more, but it's been a rough couple of years, moving to Oklahoma, changing jobs, learning a new one, trying to fit in, having to make sacrifices.  Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it, it's not my work but I always enjoyed the story and I enjoyed sharing it with you with my characters.