The Omega Existence

Chapter 14

Ben rolled to his side letting the boulder continue its path over him, crushing his chest and face as it flowed ever onwards. Suddenly Ben could hear every piece of gold crying out to him, and it suddenly dawned on him, his comprehension suddenly transforming into a heart wrenching tide of misery and pain. These were all souls! This gold he was dodging to stay alive, he was dooming them all to the dam.

Laughter filled the air around him, an amused cackling that Ben couldn’t escape.

“Ahhh, now he understands! You know, being a prophet works both ways! You can’t lock yourself away from me.” The deranged voice broke into hysterical laughter as the current flowed stronger yet, turning into a torrent of water that now flowed up to Ben’s shoulders. He tried to swim, but his right arm had gone numb, forcing him to hop forward in a last ditch effort to survive.

He was drowning. Wave upon wave now flowed over him at every leap. The golden rocked souls that sped past him battered against his every muscle, slowly wearing him down. The water found its way down Ben’s throat as he got dragged under before leaping again into the air. His vision was now constantly blurred from the stinging salt water. Each leap forward gained him nothing but more water filled with gold rushing towards him like a glorious wave of golden despair.

Ben’s body ached, he couldn’t breathe, his lungs now filled with water. He could hear the rushing of water around his ears and the screams that filled the torrent around him. Thousands of screams muffled in the water surrounded him like a screeching chorus of pain. All the while, Ben could hear the hysterical laughter, ever enjoying his demise. 

A warm hand suddenly griped his arm, and he instinctively grappled it in desperation, hoping against hope that he would somehow be saved. The laughing ceased to be replaced with a roaring cry of rage as Ben was slowly pulled out of the torrent of water.

He opened his eyes in an attempt to see his saviour, water still blurring his vision and lack of air had slowed his mind, yet as he focussed and willed to see his saviour he was shocked to see the man that had been standing behind Le’theril at the Basilica.

“You,” Ben muttered before launching into a coughing fit as his lungs tried to clear themselves.

“Don’t give up.” The man said before driving a golden dagger through his chest. Ben gaped in horror at the knife handle that now protruded from his chest covered in his own blood. He looked to his murderer to see the man smiling calmly at him as he laid him down on a now amazingly dry soil. Ben struggled to speak. Why? He wanted to ask, but his vision faded, colour faded, until he faded into nothing.

***

“Hey, he’s waking up, look at his eyes.”

Ben heard hushed voices, soft sounds of a long lost past. He battered his eyes trying to make out more than the blurry colours that swarmed his vision. He reached up with his left arm, his hand rubbing furiously at his head as if he could flatten the viscous pounding in his brain.

“I told you he’d come around.” A distinctly male voice declared much too loudly for Ben’s taste. As the colours began to take shape, and his vision sharpened, he recognised Abigail sitting on a small plastic chair beside him, holding his right hand as gently as if he were her own son. He felt her soft hand against his and clenched his hand tighter, desperately wanting to hold onto that feeling of warmth and compassion.

“Where am I” he heard the words form from his mouth but hardly recognised his own voice, the effort of speech seeming to come from some unknown source of strength hidden deep inside himself.

“He speaks!” A familiar voice declared, and Ben turned to see Andrew’s characteristically flamboyant self, leaning within the doorframe to his room.