Beyond the world of ideas

Sarah Jackson held the small leather journal against her chest excitedly as she nearly skipped her way out the campus. The words of her physics professor, Adrian De la Rosa, were still fresh in her mind, none of which had anything to do with the subject. 

The young woman had found a kindred spirit with the older man the moment he’d begun to share his fascination with the world of spiritualism and how he utilized his expertise in the field of science and applied it to the world of magic. 

Every end of his class, Adrian would take some time to share with his students his vision of the world with passion and fervor. And while everyone listened, very few gave merit to his words, content with having half an hour spent in anything else other than the college's curriculum. 

Yet that soon differed.

It had promised to be another typical lecture about the balance and order of the universe up until the man had produced a small leather bound journal from his jacket, the very same that now in her possession.

As soon as Adrian had brought out the journal, everyone's attention was focused on him, the air shifting inside the classroom to something akin to shock and awe, but also fear.

And for the first time since their professor had begun to impart with them his beliefs they listened, hanging from every single word the moment he’d uttered two words. 

Astral projection.

It had caught everyone off guard, Sarah being the most affected by it. The words sent a pleasurable shock of electricity straight to her brain.

The older man handed the small journal to his students, instructing them to pass it along as he began explaining what the concept of astral projection entailed, detailing the process that went into reaching a paradoxical state of mind -both dreaming and awake- required to partake in such a practice. And with each excited and fascinated explanation, Adrian continued to assure his students that it all related back to Plato's old school of thought about the true world resting above theirs; the world of ideas.

By the time Sarah was finally handed her professor's journal the bell rang, signaling the end of today's classes.

One by one, her peers trickled out the classroom as they often did, talking excitedly amongst themselves as they left. Sarah herself purposefully moved slowly, eager for the moment where only herself and the professor remained.

 When the last of her classmates had left, Sarah mustered enough courage to approach the older man.

Dozens of questions poured out of her mouth before she had time to give them order, allowing for very little breathing room in between. Yet Adrian seemed unbothered by her excitement. 

The man smiled fondly at her despite Sarah not noticing in her feverish questionnaire. It wasn’t until the man had uttered two singular words that her questions were brought to an end.

“Take it.” Adrian had offered sincerely.

Sarah was at a loss for words, unable to process what had just been said and resulting in it being repeated once more. 

Soon confusion turned into pure delight as the words finally settled in. Sarah wondered if there had been a gleeful gleam in her eyes with the way Adrian's flashed with recognition and pride.

That was how the journal had come into her possession. Everything afterward seemed miniscule in comparison.

Sarah could barely hold her excitement in, spoiling herself to a few entries before reaching the privacy and safety of her apartment. Yet another emotion lingered at the back of her mind, gnawing away every second she’d spent reading the journal. Fear.

Her heart raced with eagerness as soon as she reached what appeared to be one of the more detailed travels, her fingers caressing the worn pages as she read about a seemingly infinite and ever shifting city of white sand and salt where shadows old and new coexisted in harmony.

The usual transit time Sarah endured each trek to Kabata university and back appeared to be non-existent, easing her mind until she finally reached her destination. 

By the time she’d crossed the threshold, Sarah plunged her room into darkness, perturbed at the idea of prying and curious eyes questioning her on what it was she was about to do.

A soft short lived breeze cooled her face as the pages were turned until they were back at the beginning, where a series of experimental first projections from her teacher had been recorded until a considerable success had been achieved. 

Eighteen.

It had taken professor Adrian eighteen attempts before he'd reached the fabled world of ideas, and with some luck she'd be able to reach it in her first try. It all came down to whether or not she followed her professor's established rules perfectly, though the consequences that were constantly implied at the end of each entry remained unclear to her.

Even then, the night couldn't come quickly enough.

Utilizing what little sunlight remained, Sarah accommodated her bedroom for the coming night while familiarizing herself with the rules that came from interacting with the world above theirs. By the time the blue summer sky turned black and the stars began to glimmer into existence, that initial delight and excitement was slowly fading away.

She couldn't explain why, but Sarah was overcome by this oppresive fear of the darkness in the corners of her apartment. It was as if a thousand eyes watched her every move from every miniscule shadow that the light could not dispell, the feeling only growing more unbearable the closer she was to finalizing the necessary arrangements for the projection.

Sarah was beginning to get cold feet, but still pushed on. 

It was difficult to ignore the feeling of being stalked like prey when she settled into her bed. 

She could sense the invisible eyes burning through her behind the blouse covering her eyes, she felt as they pierced her flesh until they were staring right at her soul. Whispers and murmurs echoed in the dark, hidden beneath the white noise of the soft pitter patter of the rain playing through her speaker.

None of the rules Adrian had written in his journal had spoken of such things, but the fear of stopping now, of taking the blind off and seeing the dark, of seeing what it was that stalked her inside of it made her continue with the rite. 

Soon the cacophony of sound and sensations reached its maddening crescendo and Sarah screamed desperately in an attempt to drown them out in her own sound and pain. 

She wanted out, wanted to rush out her apartment and into whatever light she could find. The journal could burn for all she cared, her interest in that which remained unseen be damned, tainted by the sentient darkness. 

She was this close to taking the blind off when she saw it.

It was dim at first, barely noticeable, but all her attention was placed on it as a last attempt to ignore the horrors she had unwillingly invited inside her room. A light, not of her room, shone beautifully, bathing her in colorful hues she could not begin to describe or understand, only admire for its beauty. 

Suddenly, the darkness exploded with that impossible light, yet it did not blind her, instead filling her with warmth as the terror that consumed her no more than a few moments ago melted away. 

The entries could not do the sensation any justice, for there were no words in existence that could even begin to describe the ethereal.

The whispers were gone now, and so too was the feeling of being watched. It seemed as if they had retreated under the might of her protection's light, acting as a shield to the lurking darkness that accompanied the cosmos.

Still, the prior run-in with such a bizarre and paralyzing nightmare would be impossible to forget, even when witnessing a beauty beyond words. 

Poor Sarah wished she could have at least caught a glimpse of the shifting citadel of sand, or the howling forest even, instead she now found herself wishing she’d never been offered the book in the first place. The experience now tainted and distasteful. 

She tried to stir awake, forever done with the unknown, yet as she hoped for the bright light to subside and let the dark of the cloth take a hold once more, the storm of colors only grew in its intensity. Sarah continued to fight the pull of the light to no avail, growing panicked when the world shifted beneath her.

Something dark and humid slithered all around her, moving over each other as snakes yet flowing seamlessly like a river. The tendrils creaked and snapped as they kept expanding, snaring her feet where she stood.

The feeling was harsh against her exposed skin, scraping away small bits of flesh with every minuscule movement she made. Wood. Sarah thought in surprise. The empty space had been overtaken with a sea of roots. 

Sarah had thought that perhaps she had been rewarded with the sight of the howling forest, yet that possibility died as quickly as it had spawned.

There was something different from what the book had described, and even if she’d hadn’t read the entity the sensation of wrongness would have lingered still. 

Life was often related to the image of trees, but such a concept was not transmitted by that thing. Whatever it was, it used that image mockingly, twisting it with its vile nature. Appearing more like thorns than roots.

The ground suddenly shook, pulling her away from her musings. The world shifted again, and the sea of thorns parted like the red sea under the tremor's might. And from the newly formed pit, large figures shifted within.

Sarah squinted her eyes in hopes of getting a better look, but it was like staring at a static screen. A thousand lines moved from within, but she was slowly starting to make out some silhouettes from inside the darkness. 

She counted two, maybe three large humanoid bodies wriggling from within as they continued to ascend. Their bodies convulsing as the thorns convulsed, spasming violently as the black thorns snaked across their bodies like veins.

It wasn’t long before Sarah could see the divine bodies more clearly, their white emancipated bodies sat proudly on their thrones. 

What might have been a proud and powerful race now laid dead before her, their carcasses towering over the corrupted world were thorns now reigned supreme. Her mind cowered at the thought of something celestial dying, of it being possibly killed.

Sarah suddenly turned her head to the side, swearing that something, someone had been standing beside her. A voice echoed inside her mind, speaking her name urgently before vanishing just as the figure had done. 

Then a new voice told hold of her brain, speaking her name with a more mocking and vicious undertone.

Sarah. Sarah. Sarah…

With each uttering, her skull vibrated painfully, bringing her to her knees. 

The roots from the bodies shifted once more, the dead gods collapsing from their thrones as the thorns escaped from the corpse’s frame, leaving only a hollow shell behind.

The sentient roots converged above the three thrones, creating a mass of snaking wooden tendrils that expanded and fell in on itself.

The voice kept growing louder inside her mind, driving her closer to the edge of madness. And as the mass of roots kept becoming larger and larger, flashes of a creature birthed of thorns invaded her mind, its branching arms burrowing themselves as roots into countless worlds as the one she was standing in, a sea of dead gods laying at its wake.

Join us. Join us. Join us. Join me. Be whole with me.

Sarah kept desperately trying to wake herself from the projection to no avail, her mind too overwhelmed to properly focus back to her physical body.

She continued to try over and over again, meeting with failure each time, provoking the cruel laughter of the demonic being.

Then, like a miracle sent from the heavens, Sarah felt the connection with her anchoring body. It was a barely noticeable connection, but it was a connection nonetheless.

Eager to escape the clutches of the monstrous thorn god, Sarah let herself be taken by the same warmth that had enveloped her when the rite began. The nightmare finally appeared to be coming to an end, yet as she began to breathe easy again the amalgamation of roots shifted once more.

She'd barely any time to scream when she felt her body be pierced by a thousand needles. Her skin bulged outward as the smaller roots turned her body into their new home, threatening to tear at it with their violent thrashing. By the time the pain finally settled in her mind, her vocal chords had already been cut by the thorns growing inside her.

And as the darkness overtook her no last time, the voice whispered into every crevice in her mind eight words that sealed humanity’s fate as she felt herself finally return to her body.

Together. Freedom.  

Together. Awake.

Together. Nothingness.

Together. Rebirth.