A kings arithmetic = a traitors nightmare

Hours passed after that grinning man left. The lantern light that could be found at the other side of the bars of the prison cell had vanished.

So I sat in pure unfiltered darkness. Underneath the land. There was not a single sound. Not even the rats that would be expected in prisons made a peep.

So I began to generate sounds of my own. My blood rushing in my skull. My heart beating in my chest.

I swear for a few moments I even heard my synapses in my brain firing.

Synapses firing was this strange sort of static sound that was tactilely similar to the sound of steel wool being rubbed together.

Those sounds. They became my world. To be honest I kind of loved it. It was so similar to that old void but lacking the permanent absence of the never ending silence.

I generated just enough sound to push away those thoughts.

Finally after hours of sitting in that silence. A new sound came.

Clobbering footsteps is how I would describe them. Shattering the ground beneath them as they walked towards me.

Then came the slight flare of light as a match was lit. I saw a flicker of the death crazed man's face.

Although I appeared quite strange. Because it was marked by a deep deep frown.

"Ahhhhhhhh!" And then I screamed.

A raging nebula of light flared into being. It launched thousands of missiles into my eyes. Each explosion annihilated a thousand cells.

"Are you okay." Asked the man

I could not respond. As every ounce of my mind was dedicated to enduring the burning in my eyes.

One.

Two.

After two minutes. My vision faded from burning white to a kaleidoscope of colours ranging from black, blue, green and magenta.

I must admit. It was very psychedelic.

Three.

Three minutes and my vision fully recovered. Before me was that same fat man that I had seen once before.

He glared at me with a face curling frown.

"You didn't use death." He stated

I smiled at him.

"Of course I didn't. I'm no thief."

His frown somehow deepened.

"I left it specifically for you to use!" He snapped

~Why the fuck does he want to subject me to such torment? That thing. Death. It could not be a good thing.~

"Sorry." Under ordinary circumstances I would have screamed at him. But. He was my jailer. He had too much power over me for me to risk bad favour.

He pushed the hookah into my hands.

"Listen. All will be forgiven if you use it now." He told me.

I looked at him with my strongest glare. It didn't even make him hesitate.

"USE IT!" He screamed.

I pushed the hookah back.

"It's yours. I wouldn't want to impose" I responded.

I couldn't use it. It was too much of a risk.

A glare filled with killing fury was laid onto me.

"FUCKING USE IT YOU TRAITOROUS BASTARD! IF YOU DON'T I WILL DESTROY THIS LIMINAL SPACE AND LET THE EXECUTION BE COMPLETED! COME ON DON'T YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THAT THING WILL DO TO ME IF YOU DON'T TAKE IT!"

His face was stricken with terror.

I sneered. This fool had gotten so high on phsydadelics that he thought he was some kind of god.

Liminal space. Pfft give me a break.

"Like fuck. There's no way your capable of that. And that ?THING? It's just in your imagination" I said with a sneer on my face.

He breathed out a deep lightless breath.

"Let me show you."

🐐🐖🐐🐖🐐🐖🐐

The first thing I noticed was the taste of rotten tomato juice.

Then images became processable to me.

I stood before a crowd of people who all had cruel smiles on their faces. In their hands they held baskets of fruits which I assumed based off the off colour they were rotten.

"Traitor!" Yelled one of them.

"Monster!" yelled another

In my old world. Long long ago. There is a special sort of creature out there. One made by a people sitting in guilt but lacking in repentance.

This creature was known as a scapegoat.

It was born for a single purpose. To carry sins. Through a ritual every sin that this people have committed would be placed upon the scapegoat. It would then be murdered.

It's death would give the people absolution.

Because when it dies. Their sin die with it

It was the first case of two wrongs that make a right.

And relating to this past creature was this present was this fact.

Right now.

My head was trapped in a guillotine.

"My grandfather starved because of you!"

"My crops died because of you!"

There it was. Crops mired with disease. A king facing rebellion. And a bright young rebel ready to lead that rebellion.

A true king could find the answer to this word problem in a single moment.

Disease + hostile nation = poison

Rebel + hostile nation = traitor

Poison + traitor = kings absolution

I'm sure it was as simple as arithmetic for an experienced king.

~There's nothing I can do.~

And with a blip of terror I realized

. .

. .

. .

. .

"I'm going to die."

🐐🐖🐐🐖🐐🐖🐐

And next thing I knew I saw the thick lipped face of that man once again.

"You believe me now?" He asked

I nodded.

"Yes. I believe you."

"Then take a hit."

I brought the hookah to my lips.

Now first let me tell you kids. Don't do drugs. Their bad for you and they make you ugly.

Only do them if you want to be sick ugly and stupid.

Also kids I want you to remember. I've done the worst drug there ever was.

And so. I brought the hookah to my lips. And took in. A great and mighty suck. (But not in a gay way. Again there was no gay sucking.)

There was a blip. Space bent I heard a scream. I turned into a shard of glass for a brief moment. And then there was nothing.

I sat in the same cell. The only thing that had changed was that the thick lipped man was no longer there.

I was fine.