Pseudoasis

Trigger Warning: This story contains themes of dystopian control, psychological distress, violence, and references to asphyxiation/injury. Reader discretion is advised.

At a young age, Jael knew he wanted to feel free, regardless of the laws legislated to keep individuals like him locked away from the pristine, picturesque world they displayed in a hypnotizing ad within every available media source. If only there were a way to break free of this monotonous system of bureaucracy. There had to be someone else out there in the Haze who was alive. It was always spoken about in hushed rumors that there were creatures that lived in the uninhabitable Haze, but no one ever saw them. Lying in bed, trailing off to sleep, his arms started to twitch. Then, it was a subtle shake. Just as with sleep paralysis, the dream felt as if it was now his reality.

Sirens blare in the distance. Walls start sectioning off anyone from the exits of the skyscraper. Windows all turn to black brick walls with the red “WARNING” sign plastered on it like graffiti, and yet Jael made it outside. Gasping for fresh air, lungs feeling as if they will collapse, knees buckling in panic, Jael falls to the ground and manages to see a figure draw close to him with what seems to be a hand extended in his direction, beckoning him to embrace. He begins to reach for it…

Hummm… Blip! Attention all Lotus Residents! All residents with origin days this week, please make your way to the bio chambers for realignment now. Again, thank you for choosing Lotus. An oasis awaits you!

Jael awakens on the ground of his pod and shakes in a cold sweat. His bones ache. “What…the fu-,” Jael mutters in agony. “This can’t keep happening. Maybe it’s time for another treatment.” Each attempt to stand causes him to return parallel to the ground again. “I need to get out of here!” Jael pleaded.

It had been years since anyone had met face to face; the local officials were adamant that the new laws be enforced with maximum effort. At Lotus, everyone was forced to stay within their living quarters, which were monitored by a biometric system. Each individual was only allowed to leave their quarters on their bio-realignment day. Every resident was eager to take part in it because it provided clarity of mind and a peace that made all the stress of the outside world wash away like chalk on a rainy day. However, even the idea of the elements was merely a rumor of the dark ages.

Lotus leaders discovered a technology that would protect residents from the crippling chemicals found in the Haze. They insisted that everyone stay within the confines of Lotus. When the decision was made, a few resisted the bio-realignment procedures. Those individuals were forced to leave Lotus and were never seen or heard from again.

The torture hadn’t ceased. After trudging through the paralyzing hours of the night day after day, week after week, Jael and his hallmates saunter in the direction of the bio chambers.

“I’m beyond ready to go back to normal,” groaned one of the patrons. “I’ve been having the strangest dreams lately, and I just want it all to end.”

Strange dreams? That couldn’t have been a coincidence.

The wheels in Jael’s brain started to piece together the conspiracy that could be Lotus.

Of course there was a secret! This is why Lotus is not safe. Leave now before you die alone like the others.

“Excuse me, sir!” Jael chimed. With the bustle of people in the hallway, he couldn’t quite hear, much less be heard himself. The patron had continued towards the chambers, picking up speed, anxious to get realigned.

Jael shimmied his way through the crowd to catch the man before he entered the room. “Hey! Sir!” Jael called, but the patron sized him up, scoffed, and pulled away in a hurry. Jael reached with intention and grabbed the patron by the shoulder. “Excuse me, but I need to know more about that dream you had!” As if clueless to the accusations Jael was making, the patron responded, “Bro, you need to walk away now. You have no idea what you’re-”

“Sirens blare. You’re outside the building, choking to death. Then, the figure approaches. Doesn’t it?” Jael cautiously questioned. “I think we were both chosen.”

“How do you know all of this? I haven’t told a soul. I knew that bad things would happen if…” The patron trailed off.

“I think I can figure out what it means, but I can’t seem to think clearly here. Voices seem to swirl around in my mind,” Jael whispered.

“There’s no way I am leaving Lotus. Not now. Not with someone I hardly know. I have an appointment to keep,” the patron insisted.

“Tell me your name. I can come back when I can finally make sense of all of this,” Jael insisted, turning the patron around with an unanticipated force.

“Let me go before we both end up in the Haze for our distasteful behavior in the medical lab,” the patron scolded. “Guards!” the man shouted. “Patron 732, Peter Chalene, requesting a sequester. I’m not safe here. This man is harassing me!”

Anytime there is a request for assistance in Lotus, there is always a two to three-minute delay because the enforcers want to ensure there is validity to what is being requested. Many times, it was simply a blatant sign that the individual needed to enter the bio-chamber sooner than expected. How could the guards not see that this was bigger than a psychotic break? A person’s life was at stake.

As the seconds started to tick away, Jael had to move quickly. He darted to the patron and covered his mouth with the belt of the medical robes they wore in preparation for the bio-chambers, but this man was putting up a strong fight for freedom and broke away, still reeling from an attempted kidnapping.

“I believe that there is something strange going on here at Lotus, and I intend to escape before I become one of the many who don’t get to see their future family,” Jael insisted. There was something about his tone that sounded simultaneously sincere and terrified. Familiar voices echoed, but one voice beckoned him with a gentle darkness.

Leave now. History tends to repeat itself. You’ll descend into madness here, but you can breathe anew in the Haze.

Then, the alarms began blaring. REEEEE! REEEEE! The two to three minutes of delay had flown by, and now it was the beginning of the end. Possibly.

Are these conspiracies worth losing my life? Why can’t I seem to find any answers? I need to find a place where my mind isn’t foggy. Another voice in his mind began to repeat…then come to the Haze.

Was there enough evidence to prove that bio-chambers were not as they appeared? If Jael was going to make it out, it would require force. Deadly force, if necessary. Jael had never before considered violence as a solution to problems he faced in the past. There was a pause within his mind as he weighed the decision of leaving Lotus for good. He might hurt the trained guards. He may even need to use brute force to get past the security measures that had already begun to lock down the building. Whatever it takes, right? Jael pondered. A vague decision had been reached.

It is time to leave Lotus. But there was one problem. One skilled, intimidating problem.

Jael’s breath came in sharp, ragged bursts, his pulse hammering in his ears. Guard 117 was bigger, stronger, and trained for this. Jael wasn’t. But he had something the guard didn’t. Desperation.

117 lunged. Jael dodged just in time, driving his elbow into the side of the guard’s helmet. A sharp crack rang out. The guard grunted but barely faltered, already swinging his baton in a brutal arc toward Jael’s ribs.

Jael twisted, but not fast enough. The baton clipped his side, and pain exploded through his body like an electric shock. He stumbled, hit the ground hard. No time to breathe. The baton was already coming down, aiming straight for his skull.

Pure instinct kicked in. Jael rolled. The baton slammed into the floor with a bone-rattling thud. He lashed out with his foot, catching the back of the guard’s knee. 117 staggered, just for a second. It was all Jael needed. He surged to his feet and drove his shoulder into the guard’s chest, slamming him into the wall. “Stand down, Patron!” the guard barked. Jael wasn’t listening.

He swung a punch. The guard caught it. In an instant, 117 twisted his wrist, forcing him down with sheer brute strength.

Shit. He’s strong.

Jael snarled, pain shooting up his arm, but he reacted fast, slamming his knee into the guard’s stomach. The armor took most of the blow, but it still knocked the breath out of 117. His grip loosened—just for a second.

Jael ripped his hand free, wrenched the baton from the guard’s grip, and drove it straight into his visor. The glass spidered, cracks webbing across the surface. The guard reeled, dazed.

Jael didn’t hesitate. He swung the baton—hard. 117 hit the ground.

Panting, Jael wiped the sweat and blood from his face. The alarms still blared, and heavy footsteps pounded in the distance. Reinforcements were coming. He had seconds.

Jael gathered the guard's weapons and left the neutralizing bullets on the guard’s person. If he wanted to survive this clusterfuck, he was going to need more than just the electrocuting darts or the sleeping darts.

Peering around the corner, Jael checked for a clear path. A quick dart down the hallway. Freeze. Guards were charging down an adjacent hallway away from Jael’s current position. Phew! Jael mustered his confidence and stealthily zipped down the hall. The library door clicked shut.

That went better than expected, he thought.

Jael made his way toward the back of the library, but just then… BAM! The doors of the library had been knocked in by the Lotus guards. They moved in with order and precision. Checking each row of books for a straggler, they combed through the library. Jael was now trapped. Just him, the History section shelves, and a huge bay window. Jael backed up against the window.

Keeping their distance from Jael, whose hand was not conveniently planted behind his back, they issued a command for surrender. Hearts pounding. Guns drawn. Jael had to think quickly. The guards barked again, “Surrender now, and your life will be spared.”

Jael knew that was a lie. No one that even had doubts about Lotus ever lived to tell the tale. But, if he got far enough away from the window, he could make a break for it. Jael raised his weapons in surrender and slowly maneuvered his way towards the guards. Six. Seven. Jael kept taking small steps in their direction. Eight. The guards began to reach for their handcuffs. Nine. The lead guard gave the command for Jael to drop his weapons. Ten.

A fire was lit inside Jael. He set his weapons down gently, then turned. It was at that moment that he knew this could be the end. The guards had weapons. Jael was unarmed. They wouldn’t kill him. Right? As if in slow motion, bullets began flying around him. Jael charged toward the window. He dropped his shoulder. CRASH! The window shattered into a glittering firework. Shrapnel flew in all directions. His deathly descent began. Zip! The window was instantaneously covered by a fireproof fabric, sealing the wound of the building.

Jael descended into the hazardous depths of the forest within the Haze, far beyond the Lotus. No one would chase after him for a while. A fall this high up could be catastrophic. He collided with the earth with a mighty force. It was quiet down below. Quiet enough that as he met the ground, there was an audible SNAP. ”Aghhhhh! Mother fu…,” Jael cried. Like scattered puzzle pieces, some of which would never be replaceable, his body sent out the SOS signal.

Lying on the ground. Helpless. Wounded. Struggling to contain the agonizing pain, this had to be the most miserable case of deja vu. Jael was beginning to remember this moment. It seemed all too familiar. Sirens blaring. Interior windows transition to black brick walls with the red “WARNING” sign plastered on it like graffiti. Jael was outside. Gasping for fresh air. Lungs feel as if they will collapse. His knees buckled in panic as he tried to gain stability. Jael falls to the ground.

Is that a real person, or was his mind beginning to play tricks? It led him to a false sense of comfort before the bitter end. A blurry figure draws closer to him. Finally, standing in front of him, it extends a hand. It’s human. Probably a male. There was dirt under its fingertips, and there was a sprinkle of arm hair. Jael struggled to communicate, but he managed to croak out a pivotal question, “Who…or what…are …you?”

Without saying a word or muttering a sound, it retracted its hand. Vision started to flicker for Jael. The Haze was infecting every fiber of his body. The figure finally reached up to the dark hood that masked its face. It drew it back slowly. First, revealing its hair color; black just like Jael. Then, the hood had been completely removed, exposing the burn on the figure's face. Suddenly, memories came flooding back to Jael. This wasn’t just another dream. Instead, it was a vision of an alternate timeline. Jael muttered, “You!”

The figure finally spoke, in a tone similar to Jael. “Me.” Then, it raised its head to reveal its face. “Do you regret your decision yet?” It taunted him. “I hope our curiosity was worth it. We had no reason to doubt, but you always seem to find the worst in people. You couldn’t just keep quiet and take the treatments, could you? I guess I should know. We have the same brain. Only, I’m not really here.” Then, it vaporized as if part of the thick mist that added to the horrid breathing conditions.

Jael flopped over to his back. The oxygen in his body began to escape with each exhale. The asphyxiation had begun. As the body started to shut down organ by organ, Jael managed to utter his final words. “Freedom…was…worth it.” And just like that, the dream ended. The nightmare he kept having finally unveiled itself. It was never a person or creature that beckoned Jael. Like every human, our desire to make the right decision can cause us to believe what we are doing is right or justified. As he lay on the ground, succumbing to the injuries, his brain left him with this last thought.

Freedom… was… worth it. Or was it? Did I really choose this? Maybe… maybe I was wrong. No… no, I saw it. I knew…I knew, didn’t I?… Did I?

Moments turn into eternities as he’s left with his thoughts. Remembering those familiar voices again causes him to weep.

I am no better than my father was or his father was. I have destroyed ties to the only entity that was keeping me alive.

Neural dependence didn’t seem as treacherous a line to walk considering his now vaporized skeleton roared from beyond the grave.

But, to see the spectacular sunrise through the tinted windows of the Lotus…what have I done?