Work Text:
There was nothing.
Then, an echoing voice. It’s muffled, too muffled to hear properly.
And then, a light, brilliant and red and clear as day. You don’t know what it is, but you know it’s important.
The muffled voice speaks again and the light disappears, leaving you in the dark again.
Suddenly, you feel something change. You have form now, but only slightly.
You feel the brilliant red light changing your face despite it not being visible.
You feel a mop of hair fall over your face and you feel content.
Then you have a body.
The light cycles through different outfits before settling on a comfortable hoodie.
You feel content.
Then you have legs.
Plain, simple, legs.
You feel content.
Then you feel physical.
But not complete.
The muffled voice speaks again, clearer this time, asking the light a question.
“WHAT IS ITS FAVOURITE FOOD?”
You sense the light respond with something sweet.
You are filled with the feeling of joy and whimsy.
“YOUR FAVOURITE BLOOD TYPE?”
The light respond with something unique.
You are filled with warm liquid.
“WHAT COLOUR DOES IT LIKE THE MOST?”
You feel the light respond with a confident blue pulse.
You are filled with feelings of wide blue skies and soft melancholy.
“PLEASE GIVE IT A GIFT.”
You feel the light respond with kindness.
You are filled with a nice, content feeling.
You feel full.
“HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT YOUR CREATION? (IT WILL NOT HEAR.)”
You feel the air around your thicken, you can no longer sense the light.
You strain against the static, trying to hear its response, desperate for the validation of the light.
“HAVE YOU ANSWERED HONESTLY?”
The light responds affirmative.
You feel relief. You can sense the light again.
“DO YOU ACKNOWLEDGE THE POSSIBILITY OF PAIN AND SEIZURE?”
You feel fear. You do not want the light to hurt.
You wish you could take the hurt for the light. Take its place in the pain.
The light responds in the affirmative.
“NAME YOUR CREATION.”
You’re filled with anticipation.
A name of your own. Given by the light.
They pick something wonderful, something beautiful. Something you can’t quite remember.
“AND YOUR OWN NAME?”
The light’s name.
You strain to hear what they say, but the air thickens and you miss it.
“WHAT WONDERFUL ANSWERS.”
“YOUR CREATION.”
You, the lights creation.
“YOUR WONDERFUL VESSEL.”
Wonderful. Is that what the light had called you?
“Will now be discarded.”
What?
No. That can’t be right.
That’s a different voice.
Was it the light?
No.
“No one can choose who they are in this world.”
The light wouldn’t let this happen.
They’ll save you.
“Your name is…”
You’re falling.
The light is gone.
The voice is gone.
Everything is gone.
You’re left with a feeling of emptiness.