Oblivion

The moment he began to realize himself, Elias found himself wrapped in a thick, tangible nothingness — like drowning in the absence of light, sound, and air.

“Where am I?”

He couldn’t see anything beyond darkness… and yet, somehow, he could see it — it was there.

He tried to look at himself. His body. But there was nothing. Nothing at all.

“Am I dead?”

His voice sounded hollow, echoing — but the echoes faded quickly.
Then came a silence so loud he could almost hear it. No — he could hear it.

It grew more deafening with every… was it hour? Did time even pass here?

Where was he?

He tried to move. He wasn’t even sure if he managed to. Everything remained exactly as before.

And then — maybe not instead of nothing, but through it — he thought he could hear, from impossibly far away, a single trombone playing one long, unbroken note… as if forever.

The nothingness pressed in closer — or maybe he was the one who could no longer bear it. The noise of silence became so overwhelming it was like the steady rush of wind swirling around his head.

Was this happening in a single instant? Or an eternity?

He was so focused on the now that he had completely forgotten the before.

And then — out of nowhere — a real sound. Not a voice, not a footstep, but a hollow beat. A single, lonely note in this silent world.

Beep… beep… beep…
Steady, unyielding, like a clock’s pendulum.

It didn’t feel like it belonged to him, but it was the only thing Elias had — the only proof that somewhere, beyond this haze, time was still moving.

It faded.

Then, from the opposite direction, another sound — achingly familiar, but as if coming from beyond the veil.

It was the sound of a soul breaking. Weeping.

“Peachy…”

If he could have cried, he would have.
But Elias… couldn’t feel anything.

That too faded away.

Immediately, flashes lit the void like lightning hidden far behind thick black clouds.
And then — nothing.

Elias waited for the next… thing.

This nothingness went deeper than the first. He had come to terms with it — this was it.
This was… it.

But what was this?

For a moment, the idea crossed his mind to fight back.
With what?

He tried to gather whatever strength, whatever… existence he still had, and push it toward the “outside world” — the only way he could think to name it.

He tried to think. To remember.
His life.
Peachy.

He strained — or whatever passed for straining here — until, faintly, he thought he heard sobbing again. And then…

Heavy footsteps. Each one louder than the last. Above him, the thick black shifted with each step, as if something was walking right over him.

Then he heard a man’s voice — mumbling in incomprehensible tones, like briefing someone.

Peachy’s trembling voice answered, equally unintelligible.

And then, a cold, heartless reply to her pleading:
“I’m sorry. There’s nothing we can do… we can only wait, and hope he decides to wake up on his own someday.”

Crying again.

“But I want to wake up!” he shouted.

It felt like he was jumping and waving his arms in the air.

Now he could hear his daughters crying too — but all of it began to fade away again.

“I WANT TO WAKE UUUUP!” he screamed.

The echo vanished.

The suffocating nothingness returned. The deafening silence settled back into place, to stay.

When it reached the point where the lack of sound felt like a roaring wind around his head… he felt something.

A breeze… carrying with it a child’s laughter.

“Hello?” his voice echoed.

“Hello.”
It was a sweet, friendly hello from a soft, young voice.

“Who are you?”

“You can call me Fawks.”

“Fox?”

“Yeah… Fawks.
And who might you be?”

“I’m… I mean, I was Elias…”

“Ah! Elias! I really like that name. I might not even change it.”

“Ah… thanks…
Where are we, Fox?”

“It’s Fawks,” he corrected, not unkindly.

“That’s what I said: Fox.”

“No, you spelled it wrong… but that’s okay. I’ll explain later. Now, come. Follow me.”

“Uh… alright.
But… how?”

“Oh, you mean you don’t know yet?”

“Know what?”

“Wait… you mean you haven’t been doing anything all this time?”

“Wha– well… I’ve been making peace with myself.”

“Is that all?”

“Well… yeah! What do you mean?”

“Okay… close your eyes.”

“I can’t close my eyes. I’m not even sure I have eyes anymore.”

“Argh… okay. Well, can you imagine you have eyes?”

“...I guess.”

“Do it!”

“Uh…” Elias hesitated. “Is there even anything to see here, to begin with?”

“You can see me.”

“Oh, that’s right… I’ll imagine seeing—”
Immediately, a shape formed in front of him.
“—you…”

It looked a little like a small… person.
Just as he had imagined from the young voice.

“I don’t think I see you all that well…”

“Well, of course. It’s super dark in here!” the boy laughed.

“Now, follow me.” He turned to leave.

“Imagine moving?” Elias asked.

“Yeah, imagine… just—give me your hand!”

Tiny fingers closed around a hand he hadn’t even realized he could feel — gripping with surprising strength — and pulled.

They moved toward a light — a small star in the far distance at first. But as they approached, Elias saw the light wasn’t coming from it, but through it — from the other side.

“So if I hadn’t come for you… you’d still be waiting there forever and ever?” The boy chuckled, then leapt straight into the open archway — which actually looked more like a bubble — pulling Elias in with him.