12 August 1962 7:38am
He awoke sun burnt and dehydrated. Sweat matted his bleeding forehead and soaked through his clothes. It took him a while to collect himself; upon observing his surroundings, he realized that all he could see around him was miles and miles of desert land. Every bone in his body ached; his skin felt like it had been set on fire. A sharp pain seared through his head. He had to exert his every muscle to stand. His every step was a stumble. "What am I doing here?" he thought to himself. And then another question appeared from the fog of his mind. "How did I get here?" The question that he asked himself next, even in the desert heat, almost made his blood run cold. "Who am I?"
He had no memory. This revelation shook him to the very core. He searched his mind hard for some kind of clue, even a few seconds, anything. Desperately he searched his pockets, empty. All around him was a barren desert landscape with nothing but undulating hills of sand. He realized he had to find someone who could help. Walking on, he began to grow paranoid, every few minutes he would reel back or look over his shoulder in distress."What am I doing here?" he asked himself again. He seemed to be haunted by demons he had no memory of.
He had been walking for hours. His head ached, and the soles of his shoes had worn out. He screamed for help, but he knew he didn't have much time left. Without a miracle, he would inevitably die under the harsh desert sun, his body never to be found. It was then, that something seemed to flash past him in the sky, some sort of metalic object, he thought. Instantly his attention was diverted back to his surroundings as a cool breeze enveloped him. what he saw before him filled him with hope. Only a few yards away lay an oasis of cool water and shade. Relieved, he ran toward his refuge, but something held him back. Looking back, he realized that his ankle was caught, and the sand was slowly pulling his leg under. Quicksand! He struggled to break free, but that only made things worse. Within minutes, he found himself waist deep in sand, kicking and clawing for dear life. He screamed for help, but once again the lifeless desert turned a deaf ear to his pleas. Inch by inch, the sand swallowed him whole, silencing his screams forever.
This however, was not the end. When he regained consciousness, he found himself lying in sand once again. Was he still in the desert? Was he dead? If so, this had to have been hell. For a second, he felt almost glad he didn't remember what he had done to deserve being here. Or was this all just a nightmare? He appeared to be in some kind of dark underground cavern. Then it struck him! Somehow, he was under the desert. How was this possible? Now he was certain, this had to be a dream, there was no way he could be standing in the middle of what seemed to be a cave under the desert. It was then however, that something else caught his attention. Right in the center of this mysterious cavern, was a rock. Embedded In this rock was a dagger, its hilt seemed to be made of silver, and a single ruby shone crimson on the handle's tip. Overcome by a sudden curiosity, he walked forward, kneeling in front of the dagger. He gripped the shaft, using all his strength to force the blade out of the craggy rock.
He examined the dagger with an expression of complete awe. The silver hilt shone like the moon, the blade itself was curved, its color a mix of crimson and rust. As he held this magnificent artifact in his hands, he felt his heart start to beat faster, his head spun and his vision blurred. Once again, he drifted into what felt like oblivion.
He had been walking for hours. His head ached, and the soles of his shoes had worn out. He screamed for help, but he knew he didn't have much time left.
He had been walking for hours, and he would do so for the rest of eternity, caught between time and space, life and death, dreams and reality, his soul cursed to wander this desert land until the end of days.