The Hand 𓂖

It all came in a dream. Eradicated pacifism, strayed reason, unstoppable changes. All of them are forces in action at the classic planes of farce.
Subjugated to a verdict handed down by spiteful lions that charge unjustly on those so-called unhackneyed prophets. Intimidated by the colossal columns that held the flying arcs, each step required indescribable bravery as the crippling trembling grew periodically when approaching the luminous apse. Intoxicated by the imposing windows with stained glass that gently greeted the corroded gargoyles with strains of coloured light.
Judgement is not as single-sided as commonly thought of because of the crude introspection that the accusations one is convicted for generates. Every single soothsayer called by name before the court of dishonourables is held accountable for the facts or falsities they preach.
Surprisingly, that was not the time for the child to meet chastising for his past transgressions but rather rewarded for his guile. A misleading treat, he has always been a cunning rat that grew up in the most luxurious sewers, see? Estranged from ethics since a young age, he had become a suitable candidate for the highest rungs of secrets. The heavy shackles fell off his hands as the oldest lion snapped his fingers while perpetrating a sinister burst of laughter. They all stood up and began fading down as they walked down a set of hidden stairs. Intrigued by chance, the child was given a choice by the horned guard, to walk away and move on with his life or to follow the lions down the stairs which end was not perceptible for a simple glare. In the middle of the attempt for a first step, the guard finally addressed him with the aim of advice as he told him that this kind of situation did not appear before commoners. Nevertheless, that did not matter for the fledgling had already made his decision.
Headed down the dark stairs the child ended in a circular room where the lions surrounded a blindfolded man strapped to a chair. Flooded by fear, his frayed appearance was not the main issue of apprehension as the clothes he wore and the leather straps holding him down gave the guise of being soaked in sweat and blood. Hitherto further examination, the lions all clapped once in unison. Giving the man the lead to start reciting poetry in a broken voice.
He ranted about the hidden meaning of every facet of nature, how every leaf in the trees held a story of love but kept silent. He showed expertise in time and how it affects the prevalent usability of the world with nothing but a few verses. Care was one of his topics for discussion purposes. His chant swarmed over the appearance of interest and how its alleged absence can be mistaken for tranquillity and calmness. The importance that absence is given does not correspond with the fear that deprivation may present. Passion can be peaceful and love is not violent. The atmosphere can materialize as companionship. His voice seemed to heighten serially as he articulated. Appearing as if he continuously forgot about his wounds while the impetuous recital persisted.
Exacerbated by the message he was preaching, his voice filled with motive progressively after every word. In the meanwhile, the lions looked at each other in speechless communication for a few seconds while the man was still chanting as his time had run out. Succinctly after, the leather straps and chains that held the man inert in his sitting position started to shrink. Constricting and pulling outwards, pressing the man’s internal organs against each other. Nevertheless, he did not stop his rant. Proportionally as his bindings kept asphyxiating him, his tone got more potent. His theme derived, from the agony that surrounded his soon to be ended existence and how he would allegedly never be silenced. The last words the man exhaled in an outstanding effort claimed that he would live in the hearts that had heard him, the places he had walked across in life and the souls he had loved. Overpowering his attempts to breathe, the chains had pulled in such a way that he stopped subsisting seconds after his ribcage collapsed in itself and deformed his body to leave a destroyed corpse. The child stared. That had not been the first time he saw death, thereupon, the cadaver that had once been a master of reflection did not have much of an impression on him yet a gruesome thought filled his mind when thinking on the message the soul had given him. In bereavement, he wondered if he would keep preaching in the stars and if the wicked will of power drunken sluts would be enough to carry his voice into everlasting silence.
Shortly after, the child received notice that it was time to resume moving again. Taking on the next lugubrious pathway, bedazzled by the lack of natural light that saturated the subterranean network in putrefaction, the child minded his every step in the aim of not tripping over with any disfigured and misplaced pieces of stone tile. If it was not for the oxidised metal torches that partially provided a vague sense of the way, the surrounding area would be completely dull. The length of the hallway was incalculable because the restricted light along with the uniform blocks of polished stone marked a feeling of uniformity that caused every step to look the same. Rather than following the lions, the child had a feeling of tailing a set of glooms that carried him to some sort of unscrupulous fate. All due to the widespread appearance of the circumstances. Trekking in unison, the sound the lions made when taking steps delivered the impression that they were walking in synchronisation, like an entire unity of mystifying aura which had the legends of fortune at their soles. The hellish echo of the promenade bounced off the walls and stormed into the child’s ears at lightning gait, laboriously difficulting the outpour of thought. Nevertheless, the sound worked as a trigger for a sensorial mirage that aggressively invaded his mind in the matter of an instant. Making the child connect the walking clangour and the delimited eyesight with sprinting horses of knights, rushing down a ridge to encounter their deadly fate with probity. That vision performed as cause for the ominous omen that inevitably paralyzed the child’s body upon thought, Merely like the corridors of that anomalous place. Thanks to that he comprehended the powerlessness that held him an insect affixed to the will of the corrupt and the boot that could terminate his life, strolling within striking range. Even nigher after witnessing the end of an artist, just like him. “Ars longa, vita brevis.”

Entering the following room a similar situation presented as the blocks in the pathway. Shape and aspect of the previous one repeat in the new chamber. A ribbed vault, held up by thick stone walls with embedded columns. Floral ornamentations in their shafts and biblical scenery carved in high relief at the capitals conveyed the enclosure an archaic appearance. The pointed arches worked as doorways, even though they were closed by rudimentary and damaged metallic fences. The four arches emulated the pints of a greek cross, accentuating the fundamentalist feeling that the whole room projected.
The abundant humidity and lack of light gave the impression of an all-embracing presence that filled the whole base plant with a morbid sense of disgust that walked side by side with that dreadful appearance that inspired fear. In general, every single point looked upon made all souls that walked in flood in screaming need of getting out.
A far more unpleasant situation presented itself in the new enclosure in addition to the dreadful appearance that the room portrayed in the first place. In the centre of the room lay a rabid dog filled with painful ulcers eating an unopened sea urchin in a water tank. Intermittent fur indicated chronic illness, in addition to the spikes of the urchin that pierced its jaw upon every bite. Evident hunger and lack of saneness did not stop it from chewing continuously despite the agonizing pain it may have caused.
Before the child stood a white weapon, specifically a butchers knife with a rectangular blade and leather-made and worn out handle. A note attached to the corroded and dull edge stated that he had the power in his hands to end the canine´s suffering in a merciful eviction from existence. Fearfully, he grabbed the knife and stared at it while meditating on the choice he had to make. His thoughts only seemed to intensify as the weight of the decision pulled his cervical in distress while the dog ate in agony.
The possibilities flooded the mind of the child. The first thought that came to his mind was that the dog had its death sentence signed and approved by then. If he did not kill it, perishing from the injuries was imminent and even if in a miraculous state of affairs in which it could survive the critical condition, the wicked lions would certainly end its life before or after leaving the space, assuming that he would leave that room walking and breathing.
Heretofore wondering if he would be able to do it, his contemplation suddenly changed in lodestar after dropping to the conclusion that he should not need to care if the dog lived or died. A soulless being with no functional use, doomed by malady, only left to bet trampled by illness, suicide or execution. Besides that, getting near the dog and engaging in contact with it would imply the hazardous possibility of getting infected with rabies.
Taking all the previous into consideration, the child made a decision. Withdrawing his hand from the handle of the knife, he chose to do nothing. He did it without any ridiculous gimmicks of pretentious nature and out of utter sobriety. In spite of the fact that the dog´s life fading away tickled his sense of empathy, the child stood beside the verity that he had no obligation of euthanizing a being he did not hurt or put there in the first place.
A few seconds after, the dog started suffering a respiratory crisis. Perpetuating coughs set the inevitable collapse of the lungs, causing the dog to begin convulsing in an intrepid and desperate manner. Out of despair, it fell into a terrifying epileptic blowup fanning its neck insensibly, trying to remove what was probably a spike that got stuck in its throat, nipping its breathing in the bud while drooling blood and going into spasms in the ground. Tension filled the room with distress as no one, no matter how wicked or unsensitized by tragedy, can stand to spectate such agony in a living being. Soon the legs stopped working, forcing it into the ground while its last efforts to breathe involved increasing pain.
It is like one of those situations where a human could bite their fingers off with ease, yet the brain would never allow it to happen. Likewise, the effort made when drowning makes a person involuntarily fill their lungs with water just like the dog did with its own blood.
It came a moment when it seemed that the only part of its body that the dog could move was its head and neck. Inevitably, those collapsed as well, simultaneously as the last breath the can took. After that, the one feeling that flooded the child’s mind when scrutinising the dog cease to exist was nothing but guilt. While overseeing the beat-up corpse as a lonely tear fell from his right eye, his hand closed into a fist as the morbid sense of impotence filled his mind. He did not know what kind of lesson, punishment or test that was, yet perfectly comprehended that he did not make a choice when letting go of the knife. Contrariwise, he was rendered completely disabled by disgust. How could someone regret not feeling condemnable? The death of the animal meant nothing to him, a judgement that triggered intrusive flashbacks that reminded him of how vicious he had already been at such a young age.
Prior to remembering to a greater extent, a bodily embrace immobilized him while being blinded and feeling a damp cloth over his mouth. Shortly after, the child would have passed out.

An acute headache pierced the child’s skull as he woke up sitting in a chair made out of wood. His vision blurred as soon as he opened up his eyes, nonetheless, he was able to recognize what was before him. An oversized mirror with an antique look yet in perfect condition showed him his whole body. This mirror had a gleaming and gilded frame with varied sculptural ornamentation that emanated a perspicuous perception of luxury and elegance, yet its presence was frightening and imposing at the same time. It delivered a feeling of reflecting much more than the simple physical image, likewise found in a conventional mirror. The first thought that came to his mind as soon as he gained the ability to see clearly again was that he looked like a corpse. The experience lived so far had had such an effect on him that his appearance resembled as if he had been in a month-long violent siege.
Regardless of that, sitting there in front of his reflection made him regret the original decision of walking down those damn stairs. He could have just perfectly turned around and moved on with his life. The situation in which he had been subjected without known origin was one of obvious malice, one that still seemed not to end since the soporifics to which he had been previously exposed to seemed not to have lost effect or to have presented some secondary ones since his pragmatic understanding seemed to display that the child was hallucinating.
Looking at himself with a hiemal stare, several other people gazed back to him as well in distribution as if they were standing behind him. Nevertheless, when turning his head around, he was by his lonesome. Adding to his problems, he was able to recognize all faces individually around his reflection. With his characteristic analytical vital method, his mind automatically assumed the direction of identifying some pattern or common factor that could represent the presence of the people in his notion. He successfully managed to give meaning not only to the presence of those people but also to their distribution and positioning around him. Closest to him stood the ones that he had hurt in the past. Those whose paths had ended at his hands maintained hostile eye contact with the young creature in complaints and protests against said past mistakes that tormented the child on a daily basis. Behind, those people he had been able to love could be found. There stood those to whom he gave his attention and selfless commitment from an utter feeling of high esteem. They looked at him with eyes of dissatisfaction and disgust due to seeing him as he was and at seeing what he had done. In the back, it was possible to observe those who at some point depended on him. Their looks were invaded with misery and woe, signifying that they were disappointed or forgotten.
The stares weighed heavily on his shoulders and conscience. The sense of judgement, guilt and regret pressed on his chest like an anvil sitting on a scrap of flesh. His gaze focused steadily on his own eyes as he sensed sanity vacate his body like smoke rises from a bonfire. All the ideals the child had stood for, ever since his childbearing flashed before him. The pace of withdrawal became dangerous while that wrath filled his mind. The fledgling stood before the individuals that constituted aspects of his life, before his past, his mistakes, convictions, deeds, confidences, his people.
The emotions flooded his beliefs for his predicament was considered unjust. He could not find the reason for him to be subdued to such suffering. The willpower of the malevolent beings which had undivided dominion over everything spoilt whatever they chose to destroy. Who could be so arrogant to put their will over the integrity of the arts and knowledge? What type of narcissistic joke would think better of himself than nature and its regulation? What kind of enemy to vitality could be so crooked? No man should be permitted to destroy for merriment.
The sanity had already left the child, yet that did not stop him from making a pledge. As long as his breath continued and his tongue stayed in his mouth he would not allow such unfairness to rule over his reality. Tormented by his past, Marked by tragedy, out ruled by death, he could not stand it anymore. Patience had abandoned him a while ago. His hand locked into a fist when the dog perished and the fury that filled him did not permit it to spread. His gaze pierced his reflection like an owl murdering its prey. Filled with hate, outrage took over his body as he could not bear on to his composure for longer. Dominated by a primitive impulse his lasting fist burst through the mirror in a straight swing filled with rage.
As conventionally thought, when involved in such debris as the shattering of glass, obnoxious sound fills the room in chaotic nature. Regardless, The child did not hear nor notice any as he was flooded with pain and anger in such a way that he could acknowledge nothing but his feelings. Immediately after the glass shards settle on the ground in sluggish motion he noticed the author of his calvary sitting in front of him, behind what would have been the reflective surface of the mirror until he destroyed it.
The chief lion, commander of evil, rubbernecked at the child rigidly while he caught his breath up. After a short time, it was the lion that broke the silence of action as he took his hands to his neck. He had decided to take off his mask and reveal his identity. Unhurriedly he did so, and the child was left with utter astonishment when glimpsing his true countenance.
It was no other than an older version of himself. who would have thought that after ageing, his expressions would still be the same? The child could see the accumulated abhorrence in his face as his features and wrinkles implied that the hatred that filled him then would never fade away.
The cruel version of himself started babbling about how the child had passed the test with honour. With an arrogant tone, the elder stated that he had earned a place sided by the modern erudite chiefs that rule the world. Before he could go for longer, the child stopped him. He clarified that he did not wish to take part in the wicked organization that put itself beyond what reality stood for. He morphed the feelings that took over him before breaking the mirror into words. In a scrupulous rant, the child cursed himself and the lions, the tribunals and their methods. He condemned every aspect of the nightmare he put himself into and the past that shaped him the way that he rose, as well as how he would fall.
Interrupting his harangue, the uncovered lion put his hand in the chest of the child. After placing it, he burst his fist through the chest without spilling a drop of blood. The child sensed indescribable pain as he felt his insides being crushed and shattered into a million pieces. With his other hand, the elder used his two first fingers to force the child´s eyes shut.

Both trembling from the violent struggle, the lion enunciated the last phrase in Latin symbolizing the apocalyptic nature of the whole situation.¨Benedicti sit sacra Fortuna mea¨ 𓋹

In ultimate effort before dying, the child yelled out ¨Stop!¨

And I woke up between sweat and tears. 𓋍