home

search

Freedom

  Sevastion was high… really high. He was so high that when he heard banging, he assumed it was the movie he was watching on a TV that, unknown to him, wasn’t even on. Having a thought, he sat up from his laid down position on the bed, saw his TV was off, and laughed at his stupidity. Maybe I left the living room TV on? He thought to himself as he rotated to put his feet on the floor. He slipped his feet into some fuzzy slippers, smiling at the feeling, then he stood to walk to the doorway. Edibles for him were a finicky process, most of the time he took too little, other times way too much, tonight after a long day and an even longer week of work it was a “way too much” night. So, when Sevastion saw what was actually making the banging noise, the only thing on his mind for a few seconds was how shocked he was at the speed in which he sobered up.

  The banging he thought was a movie, was in fact, three men kicking the door to his apartment open, by the time he had gotten over there they were already inside. When he saw them in the middle of their work he stopped dead in his tracks. Aw man… he groaned internally before the men saw him; time stopped, his eyes somehow meeting all three pairs of the intruders at the same moment. “You said he wasn’t fucking home!!” the intruder holding the left side of Sev’s new 65-inch TV yelled in a panic. The yell jolted Sev’s brain awake, he shook his head trying to focus on the two men holding the TV. They had no masks on, he didn’t… no, he did know one of them.

  “Ty…Tyler, is that you?” It was a friend of his, one that he played cards and video games with, someone who dorked out over comics and manga with him. They hadn’t known each other long but Sev thought he was a pretty cool guy. “What the fuck, man?” why would, why would he do this? It stopped Sev’s train of thought again, he was always getting distracted at the worst times. It always happened during tests. He thought that maybe it had something to do with the pressure? He didn't like admitting that everything just bored the hell out of him. No, it happened all time, some form of undiagnosed something that every kid has these days. Oh, shit the robbery, he snapped back into focus with a little head shake again.

  “Yo, where did you say the cards…” a third person came out from Sevastion’s guest room that he turned into his nerd cave. “I thought he wasn’t home?!” he shouted, shock and fear in his voice. Sev understood now, he had showed Tyler his rare card and comic collection he didn’t usually let leave that room… some of the cards were worth a couple thousand dollars. They would be easy to sell, there was a big market for it these days and tracking them down was basically impossible unless there was a defect you could identify and prove was your card.

  “He recognized you, what the fuck are we gonna do?” the one that was holding the right side of the TV asked. The one from the guest room cursed and went to reach for his waistband, Sev felt nauseous, not like his usual seizure nauseous, but an ‘I’m going to die’ sick.

  “Oh, fuck!” Sev screamed as he ducked back into his room, the last thing he saw before he slammed the door closed was the matte black pistol grip in the man’s waistband. Then, there were three deafening cracks, wood splinters went everywhere and yelling that Sev could only describe as scared hesitance.

  “We can’t kill him!” Tyler’s voice cried, “it was just supposed to be some cards”!

  “Shut up, man, he knows you, we should’ve worn masks but that’s in the past. Kick this fucking door down, I’ll kill him”. There was a smash and shattering noise, Tyler must’ve dropped the TV. “Tyler!” the authoritative voice shouted,” stop fucking crying man, Dylan, kick the fucking door down, Tyler go find the cards, get ready to fucking leave”. His voice was cold and absolute, he sounded old hat at this.

  While they argued Sev acted, his life was finally turning around and although he didn’t have much going on for him right now it was, for the first time in a long time, looking up. Every day he took a step forward, he fought for what he had, and he would damn well fight to keep it. First, he grabbed his earbuds and put only one in and dialed 911, the earbud started to ring much too slowly for Sev’s liking, he thought it was weirdly movie accurate, those darn cops never got there in time. As it rang the door started booming, how long could it hold Sev wondered, two, maybe three kicks?

  He grabbed the two-handed axe shaft, no blade, just, hard, treated wood, he kept near his bed even though he had a gun. The reason he didn’t grab his gun, however, was because it was in the nerd cave, he had been cleaning it and decided not to while he was riding out his high - gun safety is important. “9-1-1, what is your emergency?” a soothing male voice toned out, people call these guys during the worst moments of their lives and get customer service voices thinking it would calm them down, it honestly peeved Sevastion off a little now that he was in this position.

  “Three guys are breaking into my apartment, well they already broke the fuck in,” he moved slowly to the left of the doorway, when it swung open, he would swing at the first face he saw.

  BANG! The door rattled and Sev heard a crack, “one gun so far, all of them white,” his voice quickened as he tried to explain everything he could, he didn't know why all he could think about was things they did in movies... it was keeping him oddly level and giving him surprisingly good insight. Not everything, of course, but the single earbud, giving all the information you can before they break in.

  He was scared shitless, literally shaking so hard he thought the earbud would fall out. "One’s name is Tyler Senton, my address-“he was cut off by the door swinging open so hard the knob implanted itself into the drywall behind it - in hindsight, he should have started with his address.

  Everything slowed to a crawl, Sev knew what he had to do, he just hoped he could do it. Hit the first person, find the gun, hopefully it’s the same person, get gun, either theirs or mine. “Sir, what is your address” the operator was yelling but Sev had tuned everything out except the ringing noise getting louder in his mind. It was probably leftover from the gunshots earlier, oddly though, it focused his mind.

  Before he knew it, the axe shaft was caving in the mouth of the first through the door, like any good athlete, he didn't think, he simply reacted. He dropped his consciousness completely into a state of immense focus, he hadn’t done this since he played sports in school. His mind was clear, he checked off the first step of his plan.

  The robber let out a gurgled yell followed by choking, probably on his shattered teeth. Sev wanted to swing again but somehow his brain knew that the swing would get caught on the doorway. Shocked at the explosive dental rearrangement that his companion suffered, the second robber stood in shock as Sev flipped the shaft in his hand and threw it like a javelin. It hit the top of the stunned man's head as he stared down at his writhing friend.

  “Ow, Fuck!” he said instantly, going to reach for the spot where he’d been hit, before he could register anything else his breath was knocked out of him. He was plowed off his feet, something heavy impacting his stomach. Sev’s shoulder charge worked perfectly, he was in full mount, a knee on the arm that held the pistol. The robber tried angling it at Sev, two shots popped off but all it did was interrupt the ring he was already hearing with a louder one. The first punch audibly shattered the man’s nose, another shout of pain came out but nasally and groaning.

  Sev pulled his fist back, a smile forming on his lips from an odd feeling of excitement in his stomach. Suddenly he was tossed sideways. He didn’t get tackled; he didn’t feel an impact heavy enough to rock him like he was currently. He lay on the ground, mind slowing for a moment to register his surroundings. His shirt felt wet, thick, and warm, he heard the first robber; choking out sobs through his shattered mouth. The one who had his nose broken stood up, anger flaring red in his eyes. There was a wheezing squeaking noise that Sev could hear that he didn’t recognize and when he tried to sit up a red rose of pain blossomed on the left side of his chest from the direction where his nerd cave was.

  He glanced over and saw Tyler, his shooting stance solid but his face a mess of emotion. “With my own gun?” Sev whispered, shocked and disbelieving. He never started cleaning it, so it was still assembled on his desk, he kept it by his bed usually, so the loaded mag was right next to it, all he had to do was slip that in and rack it.

  That’s all he would need to do to shoot me with my own gun… Sev assumed he knew how to work the safety already. Tyler never told Sev he knew how to shoot, maybe they could’ve gone sometime. A second shot hit Sev’s right shoulder, and he recoiled backward onto the floor again.

  His eyes glazed with tears, not really for the pain, it was barely there, but for the fact that now that his life was restarting after nine long years of torture, it was ending like this. Alone, in his own apartment, shot by his own gun, by a friend. After years of diagnostic testing, medicine trials, four brain surgeries… Sevastion had been alone a long time.

  His family and friends visited the hospital, but only for an hour or two at a time - it had tossed him into the deepest depths of loneliness. His girlfriend at the time was going to become his wife, the mother of his kids; after a year of basically taking care of Sev, she left.

  He didn't blame her... well he knew he shouldn't blame her. He moved back home with his parents until he’d had a pacemaker installed in his god damn head and he could function ‘normally’ without having a seizure every day.

  His life turned around, he got a full-time job, saved money, moved out, started the dating process again, and now he was lying in a pool of his own blood. He just kept thinking about how he sounded like the squeaky toy from one of his favorite childhood movies. He felt like he did when he was testing out different sedatives that the doctors swore would work.

  They put him on a dosage so big he slept until 2 in the afternoon, every. single. day. Then, when he was awake, he ran on autopilot until the hour before his next dose when he was semi-clear. His body heavy, brain slow, thoughts of a new life, a better life. Freedom. The word rang in his soul, like it was calling to him, trying to pull him somewhere. He was smiling at the thought, at least he thought he was, he didn’t know for sure.

  “You finish it, I’m going to throw up!” Tylerspoke with a deep swallow, Sev heard his footsteps fading away.

  “Get it all in the toilet, flush it! Fuck! Look for some bleach, our blood is everywhere!”

  "Bleach? What the fuck? Where the hell would I find that"??

  "I don't know! check the closets or under the sinks"!

  These guys watched a lot of movies Sev guessed, the bleach would probably work. He'd seen that in a movie also and assumed they'd seen the same movie - unless one of them had killed someone before. Sev didn’t know if bleach would work completely, but he did know he didn’t have a single bottle of it in the apartment.

  If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  If it was anyone that had really killed someone it was the leader that now loomed over Sev. He just watched the crimson syrup leak from the gunshot wounds, listening to Sev wheeze in breathes through a punctured lung. He lifted the barrel and pointed it at Sev. There was so much going on no one heard how close the sirens actually were until the red and blue lights filled the room, the leader whipped his head toward the window and yelled out they had to go. In his panic his shot when left and blew out a chunk of Sevastion’s neck, not killing him outright but there was no way he would live through that.

  Sev blinked rapidly in shock and pain; tears rolled from his eyes. He was staring at the ceiling listening to two of the robbers lifting the third and rushing for the door. Sev was tired, sooo, so tired. Mentally, physically, emotionally, hell, even spiritually. The amount of willpower he had to use over the last decade to even want to stay alive and continue the existence that was his life was all the willpower he had left.

  He was ready, he was tired and couldn’t go through some kind of surgery and recovery again even if they could save him from this mess. He needed a D.N.R, maybe he could write it in his blood… that would be pretty binding he chuckled internally.

  He told himself he was ready and closed his eyes. As soon as he did, he thought about his life, well more about the people in it and his relationships. He realized he hadn’t been living for himself but everyone else. His family who stayed with him and tried to help him through what he was going through, his friends who he had started trusting and loving again, but they didn’t and wouldn’t ever really understand what it was like.

  The tears came faster but this time for his parents who would get a call from the police, his brother and sister, his friends who he had forgiven would find out a day or two later. Imagining them all, all their faces, shattered him; all the energy he had left went to the pitiful gurgling cries he squelched out.

  The sobs hurt; the bloodied, short, wet coughs shot spittle in the air that sprinkled his cheeks. Why? Why put me through all this? Sevastion wasn’t religious, if there had been someone up there, they really didn't care about him so why should he give a fuck about them? His childhood was great, his life was amazing up until he was 22.

  He was a world-ranked athlete, he kickboxed as a hobby, had a beautiful girlfriend, he had it all. Then it was stripped from him piece by piece like he was being flayed alive. Now his thin pale body lay on the floor, blood oozing from his chest and shoulder, they were nothing compared to the arterial spurting from his neck.

  Even though he cried for others he was calm and accepting of his death. He had gone into every surgery knowing he would experience one of five outcomes: 1. He would wake up totally fine, 2. He wouldn’t wake up at all, 3. He would be blind as the area the wire for the pacemaker went through was next to the ocular nerves, 4. He would lose the function of some or all his limbs, 5. He would be a vegetable. He told his parents very seriously that if it came to being a vegetable, he wanted to die.

  He heard his life was supposed to flash before his eyes when he was dying, yet all he had was sad thoughts of how others would feel, it did give him some comfort knowing he was still loved even after everything he put people through.

  “I can give you another chance at Freedom, child, would you like that?” The voice was soothing, coaxing, like honeyed tea warmed to the perfect temperature. “You must choose quickly; you will not be alive much longer”. Sev really didn’t. He didn’t want to live through it all again. His mind was wandering, he was not registering the fact that the voice now speaking to him in his head wasn’t the one he normally talked to.

  Intriguing as it was, he still didn’t listen. Even like in the stories, if he’d started life over again as a child, he would know how his life would turn out so why even bother trying to change it when it would all fall away in barely over two decades?

  “Not a restart, a new life,” it said, knowing his thoughts somehow. Sev’s tears still rolled down his face into his black beard, it was tinged with a fiery orange red; he had always thought it was cool looking combination. His curly hair stuck to his skin in the blood. A world with magic would be cool, like an isekai… like the stories.. the games..” Sev was fading, vision closing in like a lens shutting.

  “Yes, child, a new world with magic and adventure.” It said agreeing with Sev’s dying muddled thoughts.

  “Yeah,” His mouth barely moved, no words came out so he thought the rest “I guess I’d live on another planet with magic… maybe I could heal my head and…” his head rolled slightly, consciousness almost gone, a warm blanket feeling squeezed him “live a normal…”.

  He thought no more. His mind blanked as his eyes closed and his head rolled to the side. If he were still conscious, he would have felt the squeeze that held him turn into an odd sensation that felt like something pulling into itself. There was extreme heat in his wounds and the powerful itch of fresh skin and new scars.

  “Why not wake him, Freedom?” an ambiguous monotone voice asked toward the back of a pristine man, dark skinned and bald - long graying beard on his face. His eyes were glowing a blue that would make mortals think of a clear blue sky, wide and free, stretching forever. Those eyes now focused on the body floating in front of him.

  It looked like Sevastion was on an invisible table, bloodied clothes and one slipper. The wounds were healed and circular scars where the bullets punctured him were pink and raw. His neck wound had blown a chunk out of him, so there was a much more visible scar there, but the skin formed healthy and fresh. His body was no longer bloodless pale but his normal ‘I haven’t been in the sun for a long time’ pale.

  “He isn’t a huge fan of Gods, Yeln, I fear it would anger him to go from a realm with no visible presence of a higher power to one with an abundance. He may pair us and subconsciously blame us for his past situation”. The Aspect of Freedom continue to stare at Sevastion as he spoke.

  “We aren’t Gods, Felst, we’re merely Aspects.” The monotone voice of the Aspect of Life said neutrally.

  “To a mortal who has never seen Anima or Eather before, would he know the difference”? The Aspect known as Freedom still didn’t turn, he just stared at the body. Sev was nothing more than a mere child to an ageless being such as himself, yet he was a full-grown man on his world.

  “He’s had a rough life from what I can guess, I can’t read his thoughts, his mental fortitude is impressive for someone who had no reason to train it. His thirst for Freedom was so strong it reached across the Infinium to me, Felst, I don’t know what kind of Engine the boy has but it must be extremely powerful”.

  “Is that why you want him, Freedom?” Life's voice wasn’t monotone anymore, it grew hard, edged like a knife “to build a weapon… again”? Freedom turned to face the other Aspect who had uttered sentence, his power shocking even Freedom.

  If Life can put you together it can take you apart just as easily. To kill an Aspect wasn’t as simple, almost impossible, but Life could cause complete cellular breakdowns, snip tendons and destroy nerves at a touch. If he couldn’t kill one, he could certainly make them wish they were dead.

  “No, Yeln, calm yourself, not a weapon." Felst pleaded. He needed this, I could feel it as strongly as you feel sickness and death, such a tortured existence”. They were silent, nothing really needed to be said. They had no real concept of time, it was infinite for them, so they didn’t know how long they were there, but the soundlessness hung until Yeln spoke again.

  “There… There is a problem, Freedom.” Freedom turned his sky-eyes to the other figure, unreadable in its white robe, nothing but a green glow from the open hood and sleeves.

  “Tell me.” Freedom said, no real emotion showing.

  “His Engine is fractured. I’ve never seen anything like it, but it seems intentional. There is a device here, strands are coming from it and are pushed into the Engine”. The green glow intensified for a moment then returned to its normal glow. “I see.” It said, as if Freedom could read its thoughts and knew what the Aspect had seen in its scan.

  “Explain, please, Life.” To Felst's dismay, instead of answering, Yeln asked a question.

  “Earth is Eather-less, yes?” a statement not a question “if not completely void of it, then mostly. Certainly not enough to augment or compress, even activating an Engine should be impossible”.

  “Should be?” Freedom didn’t miss the way Life worded his explanation.

  “Precisely. This boy has somehow activated his Engine, on an Eather-less planet, and subconsciously tried to augment and work the Eather, probably during times of great emotion”. It sounded like a robotic diagnosis, but Freedom listened to every word intently. “Every time this occurred the Engine would gasp for Eather and when it could not find enough to power the working, it backfired, expelling the little he could store making him violently ill”.

  “So, what does the device do? Did the device do?” he corrected. As he asked the question, said device appeared in front of them. The wires were red and slimy with brain goo and blood, they hung there like limp spider legs. The device, which looked like a thumb sized drone, plates for the screws looking like where the propellers went. The bottom side was slimy like the wires; that was the side the brain was touching once the device was attached to his skull.

  “These strands pulsed electrical charges whenever the Engine tried to activate and shut it down before it could take in too much of the sparce Eather, quite ingenious I must say.” This was the most emotion It showed in a very long time, It was curious to him. Life had thought of something and mused aloud to Freedom, “Do you think they know of Engines and did this on purpose, or was this just the byproduct of them thinking they cured some other illness?” he asked his fellow aspect.

  “I don’t believe this is a normal thing, the sense I got from him was his position was rare, a lonely one. Life made a noise that Freedom assumed meant It was thinking.

  “I won’t heal the Engine completely; the favor I owe you isn’t big enough for that. I'm not like Torne; I won't bring the boy back to life for you.” he was referencing the Aspect of reincarnation that had also owed Freedom a favor.

  Before Freedom could protest, Life continued. “I will fix it enough to function, he won’t be able to make a complete working, only, maybe 30% of his full potential. He will have chances to heal it in his future, I have no doubt, it isn’t impossible. The cracks,those strands created are thin, it should be doable for stronger elixirs, treasures, or from one of the few non-aspects strong enough to do it on their own”.

  Unlike Life, you could see Freedom’s face, his expressions, though he was stoic almost all the time, at this moment he looked annoyed. “You expect him to survive without all of his power?” he asked, the realm they had collaborated to create started shaking.

  “If he is strong enough. From what you say his willpower is immense, send him to someone you trust if you don’t want him in the wilds”. Yeln started to fade from the base up, “send him to…” he said the next words angrily but also heavily toned with great sadness. “Send him to my fallen child, he should be able to train him into something that can survive, he’s done it before”.

  Its voice faded but the pain hung in the air like a heavy fog. “Besides,” Life started as an afterthought, “Balance would not allow you to bring someone from Earth, have Reincarnation revive him, and fix his Engine? No, Freedom, there is give and take; this child has given nothing. The favor I owed you was the only reason I’ve done this much, and Balance recognized the disparity in our relationship. Nigh balanced the scales without you even realizing it”. The aspect’s voice sounded amused and victorious.

  “You said you didn’t want a weapon, Felst." Freedom stared at the space where Life’s body had been, just the green flooded, white, hood remained. “I will allow you to send this child to the fallen one, but don’t be mistaken, he will turn this boy into a monster”. Life continued, the disembodied voice ominous and certain, “It just depends on what the monster will do when it’s set Free".

  "He is the best teacher," Freedom started, "I know his choice of following me over you led him down…” a heavily pained tone colored the next words “a dark, dark path, yes. He is trying to atone, even you can see that”.

  “By exiling himself?? He does not atone; he tries to forget. He is Death, no, not even Ep, would do what he's done. He is the calamity that keeps the Kingdoms and Tribes up at night,” Life's words were rushing out in an angry river “he is genocide incarnate you blind fool! He has prolonged his life too much, created too many weapons, not only physical weapons but the others he’s trained, those other monsters that do nothing but revel in the wars that plague Silva. They’re terrifying and you know it, the amount of Death I have seen, that I’ve felt, Freedom, you’ll never understand what it’s like to hear a million screams in one day. To FEEL them.”

  As he said those last three words, a reverberating sound of countless voices disjointedly screaming over each other filled the entire dimension they were in, it shook Freedom to his core. “A million lives snuffed out in the span of twelve hours. I didn't know how much longer I would've let it go on, if I'd had the choice to sacrifice my very existence to end him, I would've done it”.

Recommended Popular Novels