Aeternum Pereunt

His eyes opened, halfway, despite not really processing his surroundings. He yawned, closing them once again, and opened them, expecting his small, dark home.

It didn’t take long for him to realize this was, in fact, not his home.

He bolted up off the cold, hard concrete floor, which he slowly realized was also damp and dirty. He frantically looked around, the dark winding tunnels going in every direction. He had been sleeping at some kind of crossroad. He couldn’t make sense of where he could possibly be. 

His breathing was frantic as he realized he had no memory of where he was.

Panic increased when he realized that he had barely any memory of anything.

What’s my name?

He searched for an answer, feeling it just on the tip of his tongue.

He suddenly noticed a slip of paper on the ground, that he could’ve sworn wasn’t there before. There was one word on it. 

Perditus

That’s it. That is his name. Unfortunately, the answer just raised more questions.

He didn’t have time for questions, however. A horrible gut feeling came to him, the hairs on the back of his neck rising, something telling him to move.

Perditus began walking down a random tunnel, which turned into a jog, which turned into a sprint. He heard the scraping of bricks behind him, following him, getting ever closer. He risked it, looking behind him.

The bricks from either wall of the tunnel were moving, joining together to create a solid wall behind him, rapidly moving, threatening to crush him. The more he ran, the more the walls closed in.

The tunnel was changing.

He ran, ran as fast as he could. He came to a sharp right turn and was met with two tunnels, and without time for hesitation, chose to continue down the tunnel he was on. However, he didn’t have a chance to even pass the right tunnel, before the tunnel ahead began moving, attempting to trap him. He froze for a moment, looking back at both walls, quickly moving to encase him in stone. He jumped into the right tunnel just a moment before it closed up, the opening now sealed.

He got up, panting heavily, knees bruised from leaping to the ground. He slowly stood up, looking down at his scraped hands before looking at his new surroundings. 

On his right was just another dark tunnel, grimy brick walls that he had newfound anxiety for. His left, the same, except he could see a light, faintly shining from a way down.

What if it’s an exit? 

Perditus knew it was too good to be true, but curiosity got the best of him as he ventured down the left tunnel, being careful not to stay in one place for too long.

The light became closer and closer until it was shining in his eyes, blinding his way. He walked into the light.

He opened his eyes, seeing shapes from the light that he had been staring at seconds ago. He was in a circular room, the walls the same as every other wall in this labyrinth, but right in the middle was a statue. It was glowing, the source of light in the dark maze.

He took a step closer to the statue, examining it. Suddenly, it moved, causing him to jump back. The statue turned at its base, the stones grinding against each other, as it turned to face him. It was looking up, eyes blank. Its hands were together, almost as if it were praying. It had a simple tunic on and had short hair. Its expression was one of grief.

He swallowed dryly, a cold feeling reaching his bones as if he had been there before.

He stared at it, and despite the stone eyes looking towards the ceiling, he felt it stare back. He blinked, and suddenly in the statue’s hand was a note, just like the other one.

He cautiously stepped towards the statue, taking the note, barely able to breathe. Once he had it, he stepped back, and read the paper.

The truth is close

He tried to make sense of it, a knot forming in his stomach. 

Suddenly, a noise came from one of the tunnels leading off from the room. It started as a low rumble, getting louder and louder. He froze, trying to figure out what the noise was. 

Water

He was suddenly swept off his feet by the wave spewing from the tunnel, unable to keep his head up as it threw him against the walls. He was swept down another tunnel, and another, barely getting gasps of air. He tried to go up for air again but was swept under the raging current, being tossed around by waves like a string puppet. The wave then got ahold of him and threw him against the wall of whatever tunnel he was now in. His head hit the stones first, and everything went dark.

Perditus awoke, soaked, and on cold bricks once again. He coughed, getting on his hands and knees to throw up ungodly amounts of water. It burned. It burned his mouth. It burned his throat. It burned his nostrils and eyes. He was sore, with weakness in his bones, causing him to tremble, which joined the shivers from his cold damp clothes. He had bruises on his skin from hitting the walls, and there was blood on his head where he had hit the wall. 

His surroundings were damp, making him think that the wave had obviously washed him up here. He slowly scooted towards the wall, using it as support. Tears came to his eyes. He didn’t know why he was here. He didn’t know how he got here. He didn’t even know what here was, or who he was for that matter.

He dozed off, still against the wall. When he awoke, he had no clue how long he had slept. It could have been seconds or months, and he wouldn’t know the difference. He just knew he had to keep moving, ignoring the fatigue that reached his very core.

He continued walking, despite the soreness it brought. He had to find the truth. Why was he brought here? The bricks were stagnant and the tunnels were dark. He kept moving.

His surroundings were familiar, like every tunnel. He felt like he was walking in circles. After what felt like the tenth time circling, he was convinced that he was walking in circles. He walked through tunnels winding in every direction and yet got nowhere. 

There was only one way to find out. He found a part of the wall where the brick stuck out sharply. He pushed his hand against the stone and dragged it. He grit his teeth as pain shot through his hand. Blood came spilling out, allowing him to make a thick line on the wall with the warm, sticky substance, shining red in the dark. He held his now injured hand, a rhythmic thumping coming from the wound. 

He walked on. On and on. It felt like an hour. But then he saw it. His marking. The red on the wall mocking him. He started to sprint, but no matter what, no matter where he went, there it was, taunting him. He saw it again, falling to his knees, and looking up towards the dark grimy ceiling. 

He prayed the gods would hear him, hear his silent pleas. But there was no miracle, just dark. The gods had abandoned him. Zeus stayed in the sky, much above Perditus and his torture, and the rest of the gods followed suit.

He crumpled, the damp stone ground rough against him. He cried out, for he was alone. 

His hand brushed against something. He looked up, to see a slip of paper. He grabbed it, desperate for anything.

The gods can’t protect you from a prison of your own making. 

Suddenly, he remembered. He built this place. He constructed his torture. He wanted to make a labyrinth to rival only the gods. This was his punishment. Eternally lost, in his own prison. 

Perditus remembered. He had seen this whole place. Wandered tunnels for centuries. The walls on either side of him began moving, enclosing him.

He stayed still, and embraced death, as he knew they would meet once more, and smiled knowing death kept him from isolation. The bricks crushed him on either side, unbearable pain through his body. Blood filled his vision, he heard his bones cracking and the only thing he could smell and taste was blood. Then everything went dark.

His eyes slowly opened, feeling stone bricks under him.

Where am I?