The Vestibule of Vestiges

If not knowing where I am is bad, not knowing who I am, or what I was, is worse. I find myself in the hall of recollections, at the entrance of vestiges of memories from days past. The dream I had, killing seven men, had left me wondering if I was here beyond reasons of me dying. Perhaps this is where we all go when we die, and for some reason I am the only one who realizes it, or tries to be open about the fact that we are all dead. Are we all dead?

These strange and pointless thoughts circle my head. I feel there was some deeper meaning to that particular dream, but by the same point in that theory, then everything has a deeper meaning. And if everything has a deeper meaning, how deep is it really? A pointless loop in my head goes round and round and round. Nothing is making sense.

I stand at the entrance of somethings gone or forgotten. A dim place, but it feels so bright. Clarity lights the candles, and their somber glow invites me down the corridors of this mansion of things bereft. Myriad doors labeled in some illegible and archaic words and marks plasters each door. As I pass each door, I feel their eyes watching me, but when I turn back, it's just a door. The thought of being watched tickles my paranoia.

I wander further through this place, and ultimately arrive at a door in front of me. I turn around, but everything is gone; walls on either side of me, and one that keeps me from returning, boxing me in. I turn back, and open the door. Blinding light blasts my eyes. I shield my eyes, squinting as I push the door open and step forward. I step out, but I have returned to the vestibule. I look around confused, and head back down the path I just ventured.

I retrace my steps perfectly, but with greater haste. I arrive at the door again, and again I am boxed in with only this door. I open it to only be blinded again, and return to the beginning. A third time I try this, sprinting. No change. A fourth, and a fifth, and a sixth time I try. I must be insane to try this over and over again only to hope for something new. No change.

What is this place? I arrive at the beginning, and look around more carefully. A sign near the hallway catches my eye. This too is covered in the archaic runes of nonsense. It is covered in dust, and as I wipe away dust with my palm, I notice the letters rearrange under my hand. I rub more vigorously. The answer to my question lies in front of me:

The Vestibule of Vestiges

I was just thinking of these words separately. I look behind me, towards the outside, and I see a sky colored with a purple and orange sunset, and red fields of weeds that stretches forever. No place like this exists. I am in my mind. Somehow, I am physically in my mind. This place feels all too much like a dream, or rather a nightmare, that contains no horror except for the lost feeling of being in an unknown place where there is no escape. 

I walk down the hallway again, but this time I try each door. All of them are locked, but none of them have a lock to be opened. I look at my hands, which are gloved in the armor I once wore in my previous world. If they are here, then I must have my lock pick. I reach in the inside of my left hand to pull out the tool. I try to open each door, and carefully search for a lock on each door. When I finally reach the end, I see the last and mysterious door is the only one with a lock.

"But I won't need these. . . it is already unlocked," and to be sure, I try the handle. It turns, but I don't open it. "But what would happen if I unlock what is already unlocked?" I insert the pick, and with perfect practice, I unlock the door with an audible click. I look at the door puzzled, because that ordinarily shouldn't work. I open the door, and once again, I am blinded. I step out into the light. . .

. . . And open my eyes to be back in that park on the stone bench I sat at once earlier this week. I look around so confused, and notice the sun is setting again, but I notice that the sunset isn't the same one that enthralled me before. It seems so plain. Not sadness, no storm, no misery, no joy, no peace, nothing. I shudder. What is going on? I stand up, and dizziness stuns me. I need to return to the inn.

I stagger back towards the inn, slowly. I cannot shake this feeling in my head, and the sun is setting faster, and the night's blackness begins to consume everything, shadows cast from the set sun and risen moon. My eyes won't adjust to this night, and I curse them for betraying me. This dizzy sensation intensifies the closer I get to home. I stumble onto the bridge between districts; almost home. 

Whatever is happening is becoming severely worse. What's happening? The strange place in my mind, the Vestibule, holds me prisoner for what felt like eternity, and now I'm feeling so sick. I'm halfway across the bridge as I trip and fall on my hands and knees. I stand up to see a pair of amber eyes glowing at me. I step forward a bit, squinting and trying to see who is staring at me. 

Dark skinned face, deep blue hair, and amber eyes. "Wrael!" I call out weakly. I step forward as he runs towards me. Suddenly, the world blurs and tilts on it's side. I hear a splash, and cold water consumes me, and his eyes shine through the water, distorted by the ripples, as bubbles rise out of my mouth and the world gets darker and darker as I sink deeper in the canal. My eyes close as a voice calls out my name, and splash sounds on the water. 

What's happening? What's happening. . .