《Waking World》


 Chapter 1: When the Vessels Empty

    In the fresh dew of the early spring morning, a young woman with brown hair tied tightly into a bun wearing a plain brown dress stood at the edge of the woods carrying a leather bag in her arms.


    She touched the old rotting leaves at the edge, then pulled her foot back.


    She recalled Mother¡¯s words from around two years ago, the day before Mother died and left her on her own: ¡°Remember my dearest, don¡¯t go into the woods.  The woods are the boundary.¡±


    ¡°What is beyond the boundary?¡± she¡¯d asked, gently holding her Mother¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Beyond?¡± her mother¡¯s gray-blue eyes stared into her own more intently than they had in days. ¡°The boundary is the edge of our world. Beyond it is unknown, because no one who leaves ever returns.¡±


    The day after Mother died, they sang and carried her vessel to the river that ran into the woods and disappeared into the vines tangled in the distance.


    From Earth we are born


    With water and earth, we dine


    Feasting on the rings of time


    And at last, when naught is left of our vine


    To the water¡¯s edge we bring our dead to mourn.


    The mourners tumbled her wrapped up vessel into the swift current. The river grabbed her empty vessel like a hungry beast and carried her away toward the ever-forbidden boundary.


    The young woman standing near the entry of the river brushed her hand over the vines in front of her. The vines that supposedly made the woods impassible.


    Her kind was supposed to be immortal. Their vines were never supposed to wither and die, but one after another they slowly died. First Mother, then a month later Father¡¯s body joined Mother in the river. Everyone said he just couldn¡¯t let his wife cross the boundary without him.


    After Father, a neighbor sickened and died. Then the village chief. Each month, another empty vessel rolled into the river to travel across the boundary.


    The last one¡­ The last one was the end for her. Her best friend, her life partner. She ran her hands over the beaded bracelet he¡¯d given her that morning.


    His soft brown curls were damp with sweat. The first signs of the emptying.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s my turn,¡± he¡¯d whispered to her. His hand gripped hers gently, ¡°My dearest Amelia, I have one last request to beg of you.¡±


    ¡°No, we haven¡¯t even been together that long, why is the Emptying taking you? It must be something else!¡± She held his hand tightly, like she¡¯d gripped the hands of her Mother, her Father, her elder brother, and her sister. All Empty and given to the water to mourn.


    He reached up and wiped a tear off her face. ¡°My dearest, don¡¯t mourn with the river yet. I¡¯ve been researching this strange Emptying, and I think I figured it out. The Source is dying. The river flows as fast as ever, but the water coming in carries less Source, and without Source, our land is drying up. Our vessels are emptying.¡±


    ¡°But what can we do about that?¡± she asked, laying her head down against his too-warm chest, hearing the reassuring rhythmic beating of his heart.


    ¡°You must go to where the river enters the glade, and travel into the woods. You must cross the boundary,¡± he gently wrapped his free arm around her and held her close.


    After what seemed like a long time, yet far too short, he released her and gently pushed her back. ¡°If you are quick enough, maybe you can make it back before I am Empty.¡±


    The thought of saving him motivated her and she stood to leave, but he held tightly to her hand. ¡°Wait, before you go ¨C¡±


    He released her hand and closed his eyes. He formed a circle with his hands; inside it a red beaded bracelet appeared.


    ¡°If the Source is dying, should you be using it for such frivolous matters as a bracelet?¡± she asked as she held out her hand for him to slip the bracelet onto her wrist.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Using it doesn¡¯t seem to matter that much. I think it¡¯s fine to use Source,¡± he pulled her close and gently kissed her.


    ¡°Hurry back, my love,¡± he whispered as they slowly pulled apart.


    She ran a hand one last time across his face before pushing back his damp brown curls from his green-blue eyes. ¡°Goodbye, dearest,¡± she said, then fled from the room.


    She¡¯d quickly made a bag, and stuffed it with food. Food was the one thing you couldn¡¯t create from Source. Source couldn¡¯t nourish you the way food did.


    She ran her hand over the bag, her eyes closing as she pulled the Source into her hands, and formed a leather strap which she used to secure the bag to her body.


    To save her partner, her Evan, she had to go. She had to leave him. She looked back at the village she¡¯d known for her short one hundred some years. The village where she and Evan had combined their Source and built a home. The place where only around 20 homes were left, empty pockets showing where Source once maintained a home.


    A tear trailed down her cheek. She wiped it off and flung it toward the raging river on her left. ¡°Let the river have your mourning,¡± she shouted at the grumbling river.


    In the distance she could see people starting to move around the village. Soon they would all breathe a sigh of relief that it wasn¡¯t their loved one showing the symptoms next. It wasn¡¯t them. They would realize she was gone, and that Evan was beginning to Empty.


    She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and clasped her hands. She could feel the Source in her hands ready to do her bidding. She pulled them apart slowly, imagining her right hand running down the length of a blade, and her left hand feeling the shape of the hilt. When she opened her eyes, she was holding the hilt of a blade in her left hand.


    She attacked the vines blocking the woods and slowly cut an opening. The vines were dense and twisted with anger. Behind her, they quickly grew back into a knot. All around they attempted to grow into her to stop her forward progress. She cut as fast as she could, flailing her blade like she was dancing with ribbons at the harvest festival. The vines whipped around, slicing her arms and face. She grimaced and used her right hand to slowly coat her body in hard Source like tree bark to protect her from the vines while she fought forward with her left hand.


    As parts of her body became covered in Sources, the vines stopped attacking those areas. When she was completely covered in Source, the vines pulled back and space formed just in front and behind her. As she walked, more space opened in front of her, and the vines closed behind her. She only knew she was staying straight on the path from the sound of the river chittering away to her left.


    After a while, she tired of trudging forward through the dense leaves and sat in the rotten foliage for a break. She pulled a green apple out of her bag and munched on it. She needed to be faster. Every minute she wasted was time where Evan was suffering alone in their house.


    She finished the apple and threw it into the vines. She stood up, dusted off the rotting leaves clinging to her, and continued trudging through the woods.


    Her voice kept her company:


    ¡°Let not the wandering mind wake,


    Sleep on in the day till it does break,


    Speak softly of the wood


    For fear is their food


    Let the Source wrap you in its embrace


    Its softness shall be a hard shell to protect your face.¡±


    She tripped, and stopped mumbling the old poem. Her eyes focused down on the uneven ground woven with roots.


    ¡°At the end of the road


    Lies the truth of your code.


    Let it be your light


    As you realize you must fight.¡±


    Whatever did the poem even mean? It was something the ancestors passed down to be remembered by the people. They were all immortal, and yet eventually everyone felt the calling of the river. They would go down to the river, and sing the song of mourning as the vessel stepped in and was swept away.


    From the boundary to the river and from the river to the boundary. The world moved with the river, and eventually one must leave paradise.


    She ran her fingers over the bracelet. Let him live. Please, Source, let him live.


    The dim light filtering through the trees dimmed and disappeared. She stumbled on the tree roots and found herself lying with her face pressed against a root. She couldn¡¯t continue forward in these conditions. She closed her eyes and ran her hands over the walls of a small bark like bubble protecting her from the woods. She would sleep here tonight.


    Sleep claimed her mind for a time. When she woke, she poked a hole in the Source dome and saw that the dim light was back. She dismissed the Source completely, and started her trudge toward the boundary again while eating another apple from her bag.


    Toward the end or the beginning of it all, wherever the source of Source was. She had to find it. She had to save him.


    The light blinded her as the vines opened up to an open space. A glade like the one she lived in, except now she could see this one ended. A shimmering blue barrier was just a few paces from where she stood at the edge of the woods. The glade and the barrier ran into the river to her left, and the blue wall continued as far as her eye could see past the river. To the right, the glade and the woods ran off to some horizon that she couldn¡¯t see as well.


    This must be it, the mysterious boundary that no one returned from.


    If this was the end, she had to either return and hold Evan in her arms until he was an empty vessel, or she had to go into the barrier and see what was beyond.


    She stuck her hand in and felt nothing. She took a deep breath and walked forward into it. Blue nothingness surrounded her. Above. Below. There was nothing. She fell, but there was no floor. Just emptiness. A small partial sphere way above her head slowly grew distant, then disappeared into nothing. Blue, falling. Her heartbeat slowed. This was normal. Eternal. The end for all who entered the river. Eventually the blue became dark, and her own consciousness faded as night demanded sleep.

 Chapter 2: Disengaged

    It was dark like night, but the darkness was filled with a strange rhythmic high-pitched noise. She struggled; attempting to cover her ears as the noise was incessant in its chants all around her. Things pulled as the arms and it felt like something was moving in her skin. She tried to pull Source to her hands, but nothing answered. She was abandoned. Alone. Nothing but the noise. Ringing in her ears. And one that wasn¡¯t right. One that seemed to be a different rhythm than the others. One near her.


    ¡°Subject 344 has awoken. Disengaging support,¡± she jumped at the unfamiliar emotionless voice spoke near her.


    The things connected to her fell off and the rhythmic noise closest to her stopped. The irregular noise near her continued. She tried to sit up, but her body wasn¡¯t obeying her will.


    She wanted out! She flailed, and realized her arms were hitting something on either side. Was she in a box?


    She needed a knife to get out. She tried to pull Source into herself again, but there was nothing.


    Was the Source completely dry now? Would everyone die now? Was she already dying? She didn¡¯t feel particularly wrong the way those Emptying said they felt.


    She reached upwards and things fell off her arms; her hands hit a wall above her as well. She was completely trapped! Her breathing grew faster as she moved her hands around trying to find any opening.


    ¡°Subject 344 is disengaged. Releasing Subject 344. Reminder, please monitor for nerve connection issues and weakness.¡± The disembodied voice droned above her, and the thing above her lifted away from her hands. The space around her became dimly lit, but she still couldn¡¯t see much other than way far above her there was a roof which meant she had to be in a room.


    Her hands dropped down and felt around her. She was still in a box. A box with an open lid. If she could sit up, she could see over the edges to whatever was causing the dreadful racket of beeping.


    Her muscles past her waist weren¡¯t listening. She threw her shoulders toward the side of the box and twisted against it finding herself tangled in some sort of wire.


    She twisted herself toward the other side throwing her weight against the edge; the platform under her shifting. If she kept going, maybe she could get out.


    Again.


    Again.


    Twist and move. Her body tangled in wires making her into a perfect rolling object.


    The box tipping further and further each time she hit a side.


    With a clatter everything crashed down onto the floor; her tangled body rolled like a barrel till it hit the legs of another box.


    For a moment she just lay there stunned by the pain coursing through her body and the throbbing in her head. Her arms were too tangled to even clutch at her head.


    That awful beeping was a cacophony twisting her mind, tiling her head. She couldn¡¯t think. She tried to remember and of the songs or rhymes of her people to center herself, but she couldn¡¯t recall them with this constant beeping marred by that off beeping.


    She had to get out of these wires and stop this infernal beeping!


    She wiggled, moving herself away from the box on stilts and slowly pulling her arms away from her side.


    It seemed like forever before she had enough slack to pull an arm out. She used the free hand to start pulling all the cable things off of herself and free her other hand. She used her hands to push herself into a sitting position, and realized she was able to hold herself up. Her muscles in her waist were working, but screaming at her. She rested on one of her hands and used the other hand to pull at the weird tube things wrapped around her waist and legs.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    With the vine like junk wrapped around her gone, she finally stopped and took a breath trying to figure out where the heck she was. Everywhere she looked were those boxes on legs. Her own box was on its side with its legs underneath another box. It seemed to be the box where the uneven beeping was coming from. She had to stop that beeping!


    She tried to pull her legs under her to stand, but they didn¡¯t move. Her hands beat against her legs, and she could feel each hit like stiff grass poking her legs.


    ¡°Move darn legs move!¡± She cried at her body.


    Her toes twitched and she screamed in frustration as tears seeped out of her eyes. She looked up at the ceiling as her hands clenched at the very short light blue sack-like dress thing she seemed to be wearing.


    Why couldn¡¯t she stand? Why was she cut off from Source? Why was everything so wrong and different here beyond the boundary? Why had she fallen for ages to wake up here? Why her? What was this beeping and why the heck was her always neatly kept hair everywhere?! It was pulling on her head and stretched out toward the box she fell from like some strange path.


    Her leg twitched, but it wasn¡¯t enough. She pulled her legs toward herself and under her to make sitting easier. She grabbed the leg of the box near her and tried to pull herself into a standing position, but the box tipped slightly with her weight and she let go. It rocked back and forward, something large thinking around in it as it settled back. Were there people like her in each of these boxes?


    She couldn¡¯t risk tipping these boxes and potentially harming other people¡¯s vessels. She needed some way to pull herself up into a standing position. All around her were the shiny weird shaped legs holding up the boxes, but beyond that was a shadow that she thought might be a wall.


    She tilted and rolled on her stomach, and then dragged herself forward toward the wall with her arms. The beeping never changed as she dragged herself along and it became a background rhythm like the field work songs. The field work songs didn¡¯t encapsulate this situation and didn¡¯t fit with the awkward rhythm provided by the high-pitched beeps. Her own tune to work within the confines of the randomly aligned beeping came to mind.


    ¡°Plither, plather, beyond the Source


    Slither, slather, set a course


    To the wall to stand among the vessels


    No company; nothing but the weakest muscles


    And Beeps, Beeps, drasted blasted stinking beeps.¡±


    Her lonely echoing voice stopped and let the beeping continue to rule the room. The verses were nowhere near the quality of the memorized songs and poems passed down from the ancestors. Her lines felt like a hollow facsimile.


    ¡°Just keep crawling,¡± she whispered to the room, unable to keep her silence in the empty beeping. Her legs were prickling all over and spires of pain twisted down through her muscles, but she kept dragging herself toward her goal. Her legs started moving a little and she was able to help push a minute amount as she moved.


    The beeping seemed to grow slightly quieter as the wall crept closer. She wasn¡¯t quite sure what to make of that, but she would see when she stood up.


    At the wall she sat her body up and her legs under her to make standing easier. All she had to do was get off the floor.


    The wall was smooth and perfectly perpendicular to the floor without any carvings or interesting marks on it, but even with it being that smooth it had a soft feeling that made it so her hand didn¡¯t slide down the wall. It wasn¡¯t ideal but it would work. With her hands on the wall and her legs under her body, she struggled, attempting to push herself up the wall.


    After just an inch she collapsed back onto her shaky legs. This wasn¡¯t working. She couldn¡¯t pull herself up the wall the way she needed to stand. Maybe if she distributed her weight differently on the legs of a box, she could still use one to stand. It seemed to be her only option at this point.


    She crawled back to a nearby box and positioned herself at the end of the box near two legs close together. Pulling on both legs, she pulled herself up, and this time the box didn¡¯t tilt toward her. It really was more stable in the direction.


    With shaky legs wobbling underneath her and a death grip on the box in front of her, she finally stood for the first time since falling through the void beyond the boundary. She looked down at the box in front of her and saw writing.


    Subject Number: 189


    Name: Sara Rhineland


    That was her mother¡¯s name! Why was Mother¡¯s name on this box? She looked along the box and saw a window looking into the box. Very carefully she moved around the box, trying to keep her weight leaning in the center so she wouldn¡¯t tip it. She was finally able to see into the window, and there looking like it was peacefully asleep was her mother¡¯s empty vessel.

 Chapter 3: The Room of Vessels

    Mother¡¯s empty vessel was gaunt with the skin pulled tightly against the bones. Mother was never that skinny and dull looking, but other than how strange mother looked, she could almost be just sleeping. Was she actually empty? There didn¡¯t seem to be any beeping from Mother¡¯s box.


    Were all these boxes where people¡¯s vessels ended up when they crossed the boundary? Was she just awake because she was not empty when she crossed the boundary? But would that mean that somehow this vessel storage or something? Would Mother wake up one day here in this echoing room?


    With the box closed, she couldn¡¯t tell if Mother was actually empty. She needed to see if Mother was breathing. She searched for some way to open Mother¡¯s box, but there didn¡¯t seem to be any sort of latch. She would have to let her mother¡¯s empty vessel sleep on in peace. She needed to see who else she knew was here.


    Her shaking legs were becoming steadier, and she slowly adjusted to stand on them. The prickling sensation seemed mostly gone, but standing felt different from before. It felt much harder and like something she had achieved, not the effortless movement of her Source filled home.


    She let go of Mother¡¯s box and carefully moved her foot forward an inch. She didn¡¯t fall. This was progress.


    She took another step angling herself at a nearby box. A third and fourth step got her to the box. She let her weight lean on the middle of the box resting her legs. In this box¡¯s window was Father¡¯s peaceful face looking just as gaunt as Mothers¡¯. His box also didn¡¯t seem to be producing any beeping.


    She moved stiltedly to another box. This was a neighbor whose empty vessel was sent off down the river. He also looked strange with his skin pulled tight and hollows filling his face. There was no beeping from his box either.


    She moved to the next row searching for a box that was beeping. She stopped looking in the boxes that weren¡¯t beeping, not wanting to see the emaciated faces of people she once knew.


    Finally, she reached a beeping box. This box had glowing text and a line that seemed to change with the rhythm of the beep coming from the box. Glowing red numbers surrounded the line. Below that in the glowing red test was a line that said ¡°97 days left¡±. Below that at the near the feet was the same placard her mother had. It read:


    Subject Number: 346


    Name: William Rochen


    Was it her and Evan¡¯s childhood friend? He hadn¡¯t emptied before she left. She took a breath and looked through the window. It was him. His face didn¡¯t yet have the stretched look of the quiet empty vessels. He wouldn¡¯t have crossed the boundary voluntarily, and yet he was here sleeping with everyone else.


    She was very close to her own fallen over box, and the box with the irregular beeping. She didn¡¯t want to know who it was, but at the same time she needed to. She made her way around William¡¯s box, past another beeping box, past the space where here had been and to the tangled mess of her box with the irregularly beeping box. It read line matched the irregular beeps. All the numbers on the box were flashing. It had multiple line of text ¡°7 days left¡±. Below that was ¡°Subject in distress¡±. The final line said in big flashing letters ¡°WAKE SUBJECT IMMEDIATELY¡±.


    She knew whose name would be on the card at the bottom, but she read it anyway.


    Subject Number: 343


    Name: Evan Helland


    She took a deep breath and moved to look at his face. It was her dear friend and life partner. His breathing looked as troubled as when she left him. She ran her hand over the window showing his face. Her fingers then moved to rub the wrist where the bracelet he gave her had been before crossing the boundary.


    The directions said to wake him, so she took a breath and banged on the window. He was such a light sleeper that he should wake up immediately. He continued sleeping with his face pinched in pain. She was useless. Her hands gripped the box and shook it. If he was here, maybe he would know how to follow the flashing instructions. Tears poured down her face, and her legs gave out leaving her clutching at a leg of his box. She couldn¡¯t do this alone! She hated this place! She just wanted him next to her, his warm hand holding hers, making her always feel happy and comfortable. She wanted to lean her head on his chest and hear his heartbeat.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Heartbeat. The beeps were heartbeats. Why was his heartbeat irregular? It was never irregular. Seven days left. She had seven days till he emptied and his box became silent like the ones near the wall she crawled to!


    She picked herself back up using the legs of his box, and leaned her head against the window, ¡°I swear I will figure this out Evan. I will wake you and hopefully save you. I won¡¯t let you empty in this strange room!¡±


    She searched the edges of the box for some way to open the box, but saw nothing. It seemed like one seam, but her own box had opened so she knew this box had to as well. Maybe a latch or mechanism like a doorknob on a house?


    She felt along the top, the sides, the feet, and eventually up near the head on the narrow side of the box she found an array of buttons and levers. One seemed bigger than the others.


    For a moment she sat with her hand on it. She looked to see if there was any text near it, and there wasn¡¯t. Did she press it and risk hurting Evan? But she had to do something. She couldn¡¯t leave him here without trying. Another deep breath and she pressed the button.


    ¡°Awakening procedures beginning,¡± the disembodied voice just about made her jump out of her skin. ¡°Subject 344 will be brought back to normal levels. Please expect six to twelve hours for the subject to awaken.¡±


    The beeping stabilized to the regular beat everyone else had. On the top under the line and the numbers it had one word now, ¡°Awakening¡±.


    I had done it. He would wake up and be here as well hopefully. Which left the question of what were the other buttons for? It didn¡¯t really matter as long as he successfully woke up.


    Her stomach grumbled, and she realized she didn¡¯t know where to get food or water in this strange room of beeping.


    She looked at Evan, and remembered the voice''s words of ¡°expect six to twelve hours¡±. He wouldn¡¯t be awake any time soon, and he might be hungry as well.


    She hugged his box, and then set off for the far side of the room from the one she¡¯d been at. On that side of the room, she noticed a door. A door meant someway out of this beeping hell and hopefully food.


    The door led into a small room with a window to the outside. There was a counter wrapping around the edges of the room with a faucet in front of the sink.


    Through the window she could see the tops of trees below her stretching out into the distance. A gap in the trees showed a glass roofed building. As she looked closely out the window she also noticed roofs of some smaller buildings and what looked like a fence.


    She took another look around the room and noticed another door to the right and what looked like a note on the counter.


    The note read:


    ¡°Welcome to the waking world!


    I left some non-perishable food under the counters. Hoping not too many died before y¡¯all caught on and went beyond the boundary. I set the food levels so it would be a month between each death. I¡¯m praying y¡¯all survive this craziness and can enjoy your extra years here in our world.


    Regards,


    John Tanner


    P.S. I left two books in the cabinets as well. I hope they help you survive. ¡°


    The note seemed quite brief and didn¡¯t explain what was going on here, but it did tell her where to find food. She opened the cabinet and found it filled with round cylinders and bags. The two books mentioned by the note¡¯s writer were there as well. She carefully pulled them out. One had a title that read: ¡°Hunting, trapping, and dressing wild game¡±. The other title read: ¡°Edible plants¡±. These two books would probably come in handy to survive in this world without Source.


    She pulled out one of the weird cylinders. It had a tab on top that had a symbol that seemed to encourage pulling up. The label read ¡°baked beans¡±. She did as directed by the can, and the thing it was attached to pulled off the top of the cylinder. It seemed to be filled with something that smelled ok. She touched her tongue to it, and while the taste was strong and different, it didn¡¯t seem terrible.


    She poured food in her mouth, and slowly ate it savoring the strange weird bitter and spiky taste it held. It made her thirsty, so she turned to the faucet and turned it on. It worked just like Source created faucets in her old world. Just like those faucets, water poured out of the spigot. She put her mouth in the flow of water and drank from it.


    The water felt good against her mouth and made it feel better. She switched back to the food and took another gulp of food. Once the easily available food was out of the object, she used her finger to try and pull more out.


    An edge of the can sliced against her finger, and she licked it quickly. When she pulled her finger away from her mouth, she saw blood still welling up. She pushed her hand under the water and let the water clean her hands. The bleeding stopped, and she turned off the water. For now her thirst and hunger were assuaged and she didn¡¯t want to search this building further without Evan.


    Evan would probably be thirsty when he woke up. She turned back on the sink, cleaned out the cylinder, and filled it with water. She grabbed the two books, the cup of water, and headed back into the room of beeping. It was easy to find Evan¡¯s box with her own still lying twisted underneath hers. At his box, her legs happily collapsed, and she sat on her ankle length hair pulling it against her head. She would have to do something with this crazy long hair. For now, she pulled it out from under her and over her shoulder piling it on her lap.


    She grabbed one of the books, the edible plants book, and started to look at it, but the pictures it showed seemed far too different from what she knew.


    Her body tipped forward onto the book, and her eyes closed as she drifted off to sleep.

 Chapter 4: When the Vessels Wake

    As she slept her body rolled and stretched into a more comfortable position on the hard smooth stone floor.


    ¡°Subject 343 has awoken. Disengaging support.¡± The disembodied voice woke her from her slumber.


    She knew that line! It was the first thing she¡¯d heard in this world. That meant he had to be waking up.


    She pulled herself up with the legs of his box. On the top she could see the only thing on the box was the red flashing word ¡°Disengaging¡±. She moved to his side, and through the window she could see his eyelids blinking open to show his green-blue eyes.


    ¡°Subject 343 is disengaged.  Releasing Subject 343. Reminder, please monitor for nerve connection issues and weakness.¡± The voice announced and she pulled her hands back as the lid to the box lifted from a hinge at the feet.


    He kept blinking, and then lifted his hands to rub his eyes. Then his hands lifted toward her. ¡°Amelia?¡± he whispered in disbelief.


    A gigantic grin lit her face and she lowered her head to meet his hands. ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± her voice trembled and tears slipped out of her eyes.


    ¡°Why are you crying?¡± He asked as he wiped at her tears.


    She rubbed her cheek against his hand, ¡°I¡¯m happy. I thought I would never hear your voice again. I feared you would empty and your box would become quiet.¡±


    He smiled brightly at her, ¡°I feel better than I have since the emptying began. It was quite a strange feeling. I was sitting there wishing I hadn¡¯t sent you away so that I could see you one last time, and then quite suddenly it became easier for me to breathe and I knew I had to go to the river. I simply stood up, walked to the river, and stepped in. Its cool waters didn¡¯t feel as fast or furious as they looked. They lapped gently against me, and I just laid down and feel asleep in the river. Then I woke up here with you answering my dream.¡± He looked around his box; probably unable to see more than the sides and the ceiling. His hand slowly dropped away and he looked confused again, ¡°wherever here is.¡±


    She reached into his box and pulled the weird tube things away from him as he started struggling to sit up.


    ¡°Where is here? Why is it so hard to sit up?¡± His voice was speeding up as he spoke and his breathing was getting a little rough.


    She put her hand behind his back and helped him sit up. ¡°Here is ¨C I don¡¯t know. I think it is whatever is beyond the boundary. I found a note that called this the ¡°Waking World¡±, so that is what I¡¯ve been thinking of it as. Everyone is here. All the empty vessels and all the people still in the village are here.¡± She helped shift him back to lean against the back of his box and shifted his mass of hair to the side so he wouldn¡¯t pull on it.


    He looked around the room, and the foot of the box where the lid was still connected even its raised position. He lifted up his curly mess of hair that she¡¯d pulled slightly out from underneath him and then reached out and gently grabbed a lock of her hair pulling it toward him in wonder. ¡°Our hair has never been this long.¡±


    She laughed with her whole body leaning slightly on his box causing him to chuckled nervously as it rocked a little.


    After she stopped, he asked, ¡°What is so funny about the hair?¡±


    She shook her head and chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s just this place.  Everything is wrong and different. Here we are in dark little boxes with this insane beeping all around, Source gone, and you first comment about the weirdness of this place is our hair being ankle length. It''s all just so absurd.¡±


    He gently ran his hand down the lock of hair he was holding even as his eyes unfocused and closed. She could tell he was searching for Source. After a coupled seconds his eyes opened wide, ¡°Source! Where is it? We have to fix it. Isn¡¯t this supposed to be the origin of Source?¡±


    She shook her head and hugged him, holding him close. ¡°There is no source here. I haven¡¯t found any way to turn it back on or fix it. I think the fix is simply to leave the old dying world.¡±


    As she pulled away, he noticed her wrist where his bracelet had been. ¡°Is everything we created with Source gone then?¡±


    She nodded and looked down at the ground. She didn¡¯t like it either and wished that this new world had Source as well. Without Source how did one make the things needed to farm, the clothing for their bodies, or the buildings they lived in.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    He looked around the room again. ¡°How did you get out of this box? What happened after you left for the boundary?¡±


    She smiled and told him her story up to that point. How her own box was currently still partially under his. At the end of her story, he reached forward and hugged her. She leaned forward and returned the hug.


    ¡°Thank you. Thank you for braving all of this alone and rescuing me. Whatever crazy place this is, we will face it together now.¡± He tightened his hug just slightly, and then let go.  She released her hug as well and straightened up.


    He looked at the side of the box again and ran his hand along it. ¡°How do I get out of this box?¡± he muttered.


    She shrugged, ¡°I tipped it over and tumbled out, but that hurts. I think I still have some bruises from that. Our best choice might be to have me try to lift you out, but I¡¯m not sure I have the strength for that. I can barely support myself right now.¡±


    He lifted his hand up toward his mouth and rested his jaw on his hand, ¡°Hmm. You mentioned there were other buttons at the head of the box. There has to be a way to lower the sides or something.¡±


    She gripped his hand, ¡°What if something goes wrong and it tries to close the lid on you or something else. We have no idea what these things are or why we were sleeping in them.¡±


    He put his other hand on top of hers. ¡°If that happens, be prepared to pull me out and knock this stupid thing over. Do whatever it takes to drag me free of this box and I will do my best to help you. I can already move my feet a little.¡± He shifted his legs slightly to show her.


    She looked doubtful, but took a deep breath and nodded. ¡°I¡¯m not sure about this. I really don¡¯t like the idea of pressing more random buttons, but it does seem like the best option.¡±


    ¡°There are many other easy options on getting out of this thing,¡± he ran his thumb gently over her hand. ¡°I trust you, Amelia. I believe we will get out of this.¡±


    She looked into his blue-green eyes, and took comfort from his confident gaze. ¡°If you say so,¡± she whispered as she pulled her hand away and moved to the head of the box where the buttons were. She wrapped one arm around his waist, and with the other she pressed the button next to the big button.


    ¡°Subject 343 is not connected,¡± the disembodied voice proclaimed and nothing else happened.


    ¡°One down four more to try,¡± she whispered and he put his arms on top of the arm wrapped around her waist.


    She took a breath and pressed the next one.


    ¡°Subject 343 is not connected,¡± the voice stated again.


    Another one down. She pressed the next button.


    ¡°Subject 343 is not connected,¡± it stated.


    Would all of these buttons cause the box to say the same thing? That would be better than them taking him away from her. She pressed the next one.


    ¡°Subject 343 is not connected,¡± it said a fourth time.


    Would none of the buttons work? There was only one button left to push. If this didn¡¯t work, the drag Evan out of the box while letting it fall over might be their best option, but it wasn¡¯t the greatest option if they had to do this for everyone from the village. She ran her hand over the final button; if this button did nothing, or if it did something either could be troublesome.


    Evan gently ran his hand over the hand she had wrapped around his waist. ¡°Just press it,¡± he whispered as if anyone would care how loud they were.


    She braced herself to pull, and pressed the button.


    It started to move and she started pulling.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine Amelia, I think it¡¯s working!¡± he shouted, stopping her panicked start.


    The sides on his left and right swung free while the back and front stayed in their locked upright position. The voice said nothing.


    ¡°It actually worked!¡± he exclaimed as he laughed. ¡°I can¡¯t believe that actually worked!¡± His laugh was contagious and soon she was also laughing with relief.


    First button in the row was the one to press to release people. They would need to remember that.


    She moved back to his side and helped steady him and the box as he swung his legs over the edge.


    ¡°Now I just need to stand. Simple, right?¡± He smiled at her as he said this.


    She grimaced. Standing in this place was not simple.


    ¡°Just hold my arms as I stand and steady me. I think it should be fine,¡± he told her as he looked down at the floor his feet just barely touched from the side of the platform.


    She held out her hands to him, and he gripped them as he shifted off the box. His feet were fully touching the floor, and the box seemed to be leaning toward them, but it wasn¡¯t falling. He leaned hard on her arms as he pushed up off the floor and stumbled into her, almost knocking both of them over, but she just barely managed to hold them up.


    ¡°I can¡¯t hold you up forever,¡± she chided as he held her in a death grip and his quick breaths were close up against her cheek.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t quite prepared for my legs to be this shaky.¡± He gave a shaky laugh, still holding onto her, and she could feel the shaking from him. ¡°Can you help me sit back down?¡±


    ¡°Simple aye?¡± She asked as she helped lower him back onto the now bed-like platform. She was impressed she was still standing with how weak her muscles felt.


    He laughed and scratched his head, ¡°Maybe in a little bit I¡¯ll be able to stand. Can I have some of the food and water you mentioned?¡±


    She smiled, ¡°sure.¡± She grabbed the impromptu cup she had made for water and handed it to him, and then went to the supply room to grab him a food cylinder.

 Chapter 5: The World We Live In

    The two of them stood looking down on the box of subject 345, Kayla Hederton. Evan¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°We don¡¯t know much about this world, and we only have so much of the food under the counter. It¡¯s enough for us to survive for a couple months but it would be gone in days if we wake everyone. She still has 53 days left.¡±


    Amelia looked down at her friend, ¡°We could use her help in that glasshouse for edible plants we found at the ground level.¡±


    He grimaced, ¡°But that means more people we have to feed. I say we wake people¡¯s vessels when their count reaches 30. The count seems to match with emptying. As long as the count doesn¡¯t reach zero the vessels should be fine.¡±


    She grabbed his hand and held it tightly, ¡°But what if that is wrong, what if suddenly the boxes stop working as they have and everyone ends up empty. As empty as this giant lonely world we seem to be living in.¡±


    He looked into her eyes and pulled her hands close to his chest, ¡°If anything starts going wrong, the beeping should start by being uneven, right? So if the beeping for any box becomes uneven then we rush and press the awakening button. For now I say we explore more of this building and see if we can learn more about why we are here and why there is no one else here.¡±


    She leaned into him, ¡°But what if the boxes all suddenly go silent and empty like ones before you. I don¡¯t want to live in a lonely empty world.¡±


    He leaned his head against hers ad began reciting:


    ¡°From the sand of the ground we grow


    The food that sustains life as we know.¡±


    She joined in for the second verse of the well-known harvest rhyme:


    ¡°Let the harvest cycles guide our year


    Each harvest festival for cheer.¡±


    She stopped and shook her head, ¡°but what does that have to do with us?¡±


    ¡°I remember the harvest rhyme thinking about the crops in the glasshouse. Some of the crops looked ready to harvest soon according to the book, so let¡¯s wait to wake Kayla until the crops are ripe, and if we get within thirty days of her number, we wake her at thirty like my original plan. We can wake William at the same time we¡¯ll have a little more company.¡± He smiled like this solved all the problems.


    ¡°This doesn¡¯t fix the issue of if all the boxes suddenly go silent.¡± She glared at him.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°No, you¡¯re right, it doesn¡¯t, but it helps with offsetting the food we¡¯ll need to feed everyone. And we can¡¯t live by what ifs. We are alive in this world, and we have to live by the rules we¡¯ve learned so far. Rule number one is the boxes have a count down and you must be woken before the box goes silent. Rule number two is we have no Source. Rule number three, we need sleep, food, and water.¡± He stopped and tilted his head as if trying to think of any other rules.


    She nodded, ¡°That sounds about right. I would add one more thing, everything is more painful and injuries last longer.¡± She looked down at the finger she¡¯d sliced on the food cylinder that was still healing.


    ¡°Another good reason to trust that these boxes will keep following the rules for now and we just have to slowly release people and teach them about this world,¡± he looked down at their friend. ¡°We will press the awaken button and have other people join us, just I don¡¯t think we are ready yet.¡±


    ¡°And when will we be ready?¡± She asked.


    He shrugged, ¡°When we find out more about this place. When we have food to share, or when we have to wake people to save them from the emptying.¡± He smiled at her, ¡°Speaking of learning more, we haven¡¯t searched this level much. We took the stairs down to the ground floor the moment we found them.¡±


    ¡°It would be nice to add to our rules,¡± she said as the two walked hand in hand to the door. They went out of the small closet room and into a large hallway.


    She pulled him toward the door directly to their left, ¡°Let¡¯s just go to the next door. We haven¡¯t gone room by room since the first time we explored this we went straight to the stairs.¡±


    The door led into another room with a counter on one side, but this one had a bookshelf on the other side and a giant white framed shiny thing with writing and diagrams scrawled on it.


    She walked toward the wall writing while Evan moved toward the books.


    At the top on the board in large capital letters were the words ¡°IMMORTALITY PROJECT¡±


    Below it was multiple graphs. One was titled: ¡°Time on Serum compared to days without DNA decay¡±. The graph showed a straight line going up out of the corner diagonally. Next to the graph was a note ¡°Being asleep doesn¡¯t change the graph. Seems to be a direct correlation.¡±


    ¡°Amelia, come here!¡± Evan called to her excitedly. ¡°These are journals. We are in these journals!¡± He held one up to her. ¡°Look.¡±


    She looked and it showed a picture of a baby. Below the picture was the designation ¡°Subject Number 344¡± and her name ¡°Name: Amelia Rhineland¡±. A small description was underneath, ¡°Subject 344 was added to the experiment as the daughter of Subject 189 and Subject 190 who were both also raised in the dream world. Subject 344 will be woken at the 350 year mark if this experiment can continue being run for that long.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t that old, and she¡¯d woken herself. Was this maybe not her? But that was her subject designation and her parents.


    Evan gripped her hand. ¡°They called it the dream world. This is the Waking World. They were studying us, but for some reason they abandoned us.¡±


    ¡°And the note we saw?¡± She asked him.


    He shrugged, ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe a hurried note before they fled.¡±


    She put her hand over the entry, ¡°Whatever it was, whatever they were using us for, we are free now. This place and this Waking World are ours now.¡±


    He smiled, placed the book loosely on the shelf and wrapped his arms around her resting his head gently against hers, ¡°and we will write new rhymes.¡±