Chapter 3: Nightmares Will Come

Heads hung over slumped shoulders. Any ideas or propositions were shot down mid explanation. I cleared my throat, “Two facts have become inescapably clear: first, given our current trajectory we will, without a shadow of a doubt, fall into the black hole; second, every functional part that remains on board is indispensable. To abandon one functional system means death somewhere down the line, black hole or not.” They all agreed in silence. Their gazes wandered to corners and empty spaces; they were unable to face one another. They were unable to face me. This wasn’t getting us anywhere. I began to rub the bridge of my nose for a moment. “Everyone, take a moment to rest. We will meet back here in an hour.”

They exited in an eager fashion as though to leave the room meant escape from the reality of our situation. As the last member exited, the conference room door shut behind them. I alone remained seated. I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes; I needed this intermission just as much as they did. I felt tension leave my shoulders. My jaw unclenched. I waved for the lights to shut off and as they faded away so too did my conscious mind. Before fully drifted away into sleep, I knew that a nightmare awaited me.

My heart sank as the image of hands made of shadows climbed over me. They gripped and pulled me down as they consumed me. Panic and anxiety shackled me in place; I was paralyzed with fear; too terrified to even breathe. Once the hands reached my head, black began to envelope my eyes and sank me into darkness. All was black when The Voice of flames crackled behind my ear, “Destroy the crown and the kingdom falls. Silence thy raging flame and I’ll see to the rest.” An instinctive fear washed over me like a mouse in the presence of a serpent. It spoke with malevolence and it radiated a bone chilling ruthlessness. It wanted my life, it wanted my crew.

I took a deep breath and mustered up all the courage that remained in me, “I won’t allow you to take them.”

The Voice roared, “Charlatan! Deceiver! Traitor! Undeserving of the miracle that burdens you, purge the blood of thy Holy Father from thy corrupted veins. Thy words betray your truest nature. Forsake before you are forsaken. Sacrifice before you are sacrificed!” I was yanked from my seat and teleported into a featureless white room. Suddenly I was surrounded by my crew. I look down and see a knife in my hand and under my feet a pitch black drain. The Voice roared like a flame, “Show thy Father you are corruption incarnate, a desperate Shepard eager to sacrifice thy sheep.”

I gaze at my crew; they stand and wait for me to act. I lifted the blade in my hand and pointed it at them; they don’t react. I hear a whisper in my heart cry out, “Don’t do this.” It cried with an agony reminiscent of countless regrets. My heart pumped anguish into my throat where it built and built and had nowhere to go. The anguish turned to unbearable pain inside my throat; I had to give it somewhere to go. I placed the blade against my throat and with one swift motion, I slit my throat. The blood spilled out and I fell to my knees. I could finally breathe. The blood continued to spill out from me until it overflowed from the drain and become an ocean of blood. Some members of my crew swam towards me but drowned trying to reach me. Others were able to hoist themselves up and stood on top of the river of blood and left me.