No World for Tomorrow

I am forced awake as I feel the pricking feel of the syringe pressing into my neck, releasing a warm sedative, as they slide the needle out and step back, and my eyes start to droop again.

"We're going to remove the restraints now, okay?" A doctor says slowly and as calm as possible, as two bigger men approach me, and remove a few straps from my back, and remove my straighjacket. The doctor then kneels in front of me, saying in his happy, yet obviously fake tone, "It's lunch time, Abel, everyone is going to be very happy to see you! Come on, let's go, don't want them to keep them waiting." As soon as he finishes, he grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet, and takes me to the cafeteria, where everyone else sits silently and eats their tray of peas, carrots and mashed potatoes, and they sit me in the corner, and tell me to 'behave', then leave me alone. I quickly finish my food, and I get drop my tray in the trash and head outside into the courtyard, and go sit on the bench, staring at the sea. My eyes always seem to drift towards the giant rip in the sky, as if the Earth itself was torn, leaving a giant scar, the edges pulsating a black miasma, as the inside reveals a vast landscape, flat with floating cliffs in the distance. Even though its my daily routine, it always seems like a new experience once the drug starts to wear off, and I realize just exactly where I am.

"I don't belong here...." I mutter to myself as I stare at the ferry coming and going from our island fortress turned mental institute. I grab onto the chainlink fence and lean against it, as I keep repeating it, hoping someone will hear me and listen for once, but I'm only greeted by two guards placing hands on my shoulder, saying, "Rec is over, sir, it's time for your examination."

Before I can respond, they pull me away and drag me to a room, like a police interrogation room, blinding white, a table in the middle of a room, cameras in each corner of the room, and two chairs, bound to the floor, a one way mirror placed on the back wall, the only darkness in the room, as I know people fill in seats, holding checkboards, waiting for me to say anything. After a few minutes, my psych comes in, dressed in her usual white coat, with jeans underneath, and a brown V-Neck shirt, her hair tied in a high ponytail, and she sits down across from me, and gives a welcoming smile. I have a hard time returning the favor. She sighs, and pulls out a tape recorder and presses the record button, and adjusts her glasses, a small glare coming from her lenses. "So then, how shall we start, Abel?"

I shrug, and shake my wrists, so that the handcuffs jingle on the metal chair arms, "Maybe by taking these off?"

She chuckles, and nods, pulling out the key and doing as I asked, and sits back down with a wink, and I smirk, as she asks, "Next, you do something for me. I have a question, have your memories returned yet, Abel?"

I sigh, placing my hands on the table as I lean forward, "I've told you exactly who I am. My name is Abel Coreas, I woke up here six months ago, and I remember things only about myself, my favorite things such as movies, colors, and Disney movie. I do not know why I am in here, nor do I see what problems I have, but, you all refuse to let me go, no matter how many times I try to tell you I do not belong here. Is there anything you can tell me about what I'm missing, Sarah?"

Sarah's expression darkens, and she writes something down on a piece of paper, "You woke up randomly in the rec room, wearing a straight jacket, sitting in the corner, speaking about a broken gate, creatures with wings, and something about war. Many people have been institutionalized after the Great Scar happened, but most have healed withing weeks, since it was mostly just a shock to see creatures appearing that were once believed to be children's sotries. You don't seem to be that case. We have footage we want to show you, maybe it'll jolt your mind a bit, and help you remember a few things." She turns over to a guard and nods, as he leaves the room, returning with a tv on a cart, like in grade school, a VCR player below, and he sets it in the back room, handing Sarah the remote. She stands in front of the tv, folding her arms, and says, "Other doctors say your merely psychotic, believing in the impossible, but I refuse to believe that, ever since you've shown up, six patients have comitted suicide, saying that they see you for what you really are. On this video tape are a series of symbols and events that we believe are connected, and hopefully, they will jog your memory and we can either set you free, or decide how to handle you. Are you ready?"

I nod, and she walks to the back of the room, turning the lights off and pressing play. As soon as she does, I see an interview with a patient I knew quite well, he called himself Gonzoo, he was an ex-airforce pilot, and was flying over the Bermuda Triangle when the Great Scar happened. Afterwards, he said he had visions, visions so real they felt like memories, about seeing dragons, and sea serpents, and was convinced he needed mental help, so he checked in here. He was one of the first to speak with me, and we grew to be great friends, unfortunately, he died last week. The interview is the basic one there is, asking who he is, and what he experiences, and Gonzoo answers in a very jokingly way, as he always was, but when asked about his visions, his demeanor changed completely, his face was pale white, as if he had seen a ghost, and he avoided the questions altogether. Afterwards, it flases to a picture, and I can't help but rise up out of my chair, as I see its him in his room, moving back and forth, shaking his head, and waving his arms, as if hes talking to something, and trying to erase things off the wall, then turns to the camera, the veins around his eyes black, his expression blank, and he silently says, "Coreas. Coreas. I. Believe. You."

Suddenly, it speeds up again, and he starts tugging on his cot, breaking a piece off of his cot, and walks over to the corner of his room, and starts doing something, his back to the camera. It goes on for hours, as a red pool forms around his feet, and he finally falls back into it, dead. Sarah pauses it after that, and I turn and immediately rush her, my hands wrapping around her neck as I scream at her, "How could you let this happen!?" She starts to gasp for breath, trying to speak, as I keep yelling, "Why didn't anyone help him!? How could they simply sit and watch this man kill himself!?"

Suddenly, I feel an electric jolt shoot through my body, and I fall back, seeing Sarah's taser in hand as she gasps for her breath, and says, her voice cracked, "They.... they didn't see.... that footage." She coughs for a few seconds and clears her throat, "What they saw was this, notice the time on both the video you saw and these pictures."

She tosses a manilla folder onto the table and pictures slide out, of him just walking around in his room, and laying in bed, the time and date being the exact same as the video footage. I shake my head, not capable of bringing about any words, and Sarah steps forward again, placing another folder on the table, "These are what Gonzoo carved into his body, once we cleaned the wounds, maybe they can help you understand what they are. We've searched every database known to man, and nothing came up."

I stare at the pictures of my friend's corpse, symbols carved into his skin, and I recognize some, nodding. "Yeah, I know some of these. They're from the other side of the Scar. This one," I pull a picture aside, of a star, with a winged sword stabbing through it, "is called the Symbol of Sanctity. It's like.... the Christian Cross to one side. Represents so many things, and has even seen time in our world as well. However, its not something that is depicted as a curse. It's more of a.... blessing. Its not something he would do as a point, but for salvation. For protection."

"Protection from what?" Sarah says, standing beside me, as I fumble through the pictures.

"The others, the Formless, the Feared, the things that go bump at night, you could say. They don't have a name, because that would suggest some sort of order in their tactics. All these symbols are old depictions of their... tiers, you could say. I don't know much more, but bringing all these out can only cause something ba-" I immedately feel an immense burning in my right shoulder spreading down my arm, as I can't finish anything, and can only tell Sarah to leave, and she does, terrified. I feel the eyes of the doctors watching me, as I hold onto my arm, as the burning only worsens, and I look at them, yelling for them to release me, but none listen to my pleas, and guards end up barging in with tranquilizer guns and take me down like a rabid animal.

I wake up at night to loud noises, as if the doors are being torn off, and I see mine is already off, so I peek my head out, and start to move quietly through the hallway, patients walking around, bumping into each other, holes the size of a minivan throughout the ceiling and high walls giving moonlight and letting rain in, as waves crash loudly against the cliffs outside. I move my way past everyone, not looking at anything, as I kick a can, and they all stare at me, their eyes glowing a bright yellow, almost golden, and their faces change, skin slowly falls off, and tissue is shown, and they all open their mouths so much their jaws dislocate as they release deep grumbles. I try to run, but they move closer, making a semi-circle around me, pushing me against a wall as I hear it, a pair of wings flapping.