Irritation of Purity

The crumbling edge of the rooftop was as enticing as ever. I stood on the edge, peering down into the streets; the pitch darkness seemed more reminiscent of an ingurgitating void. The sun peeked over the ocean horizon as dawn came, leaving the hundreds of decaying buildings awash in an orange hue. The city was a hollow crypt, as it had always been.

Sunlight glistening off my worn heart-shaped silver locket caught my eye, and I analyzed the item for what must have been the thousandth time. The symbol inside always left my mind scattered, like falling in a cloud that extends forever. A Greek cross with two dark dots in the upper right and bottom left corners. My father never explained what it meant or why my mother had left me this locket, but the mystery of it persisted in my mind. I could almost feel what the reason was, what the symbol meant, why this place even existed, why I had to go through this. A fleeting semblance of understanding was the only comfort I could find as I wandered alone.

The streets and pavement were marked by a considerable number of massive cracks as if God had slammed a giant hammer down into the earth, and this was the aftermath. Roaming the streets always left me with a queer sense of calm, even with the destructive sights surrounding me. I felt a slight sense of relief in the unchanging nature of the city like it had stood here for eternity and would endure for that much longer. There would never be any surprises lying in wait.

Reasons for existing in this labyrinth of dilapidation eluded me every day I spent examining the unending sprawl. I don’t know why I thought there was anything new to discover; the stagnancy of this whole circumstance had made itself quite apparent. Not a soul would ever appear, especially not to help me. Gradually, the act of exploring became an instinct for me. I had tried to leave many times, but all paths out of the city were suspiciously blocked in some manner, and a mountain range covered virtually all other possible methods of departure. The only other passage out was via the sea, but there were no boats or any means of crafting such a transport anywhere to be found. It was like someone intended for me to remain here in perpetuity.

Noon had come, and the sun sat directly overhead, hitting my skin through the holes of my ragged shirt and cargo pants. I sat at the partly crumbled pier, closing my eyes and listening to the waves, which served as a partial respite from the thought cycles that flooded my mind. Why does this exist? Why do I exist? What is the purpose of my life here? Is this boredom meant to be a painful lesson from some higher class of being? Why did my mother disappear after I was born? Why can’t I remember what my father looks like? Why does my past feel like a cloud and an utterly obscure set of memories? My heart raced, and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. This “life” felt like a cruel joke, an utterly hopeless nightmare. Amid my lament, I heard a loud crack in the distance. Looking back towards the city, I noticed that there was a small figure at the start of the pier, like a child but obfuscated, almost resembling an apparition. My shock gave way to concern as the figure started to move. I immediately started to sprint back towards the city, wanting an answer more than anything else.

The figure retained its distance and shadowy nature even though it was completely light out, and I continued the chase through the battered streets. It moved into a derelict library within the shadow of some crumbling skyscrapers, and I couldn’t make out the form anymore, but a faint blue light appeared deeper within the hallways. Slowing my pace down, I carefully tracked the glow; it seemed to match my speed and led me through the rows of books to a back room, slowly fading as if it had served its singular purpose. The gray door was almost wholly non-descript with a worn handle and one working lightbulb immediately overhead illuminated the only detail on its surface. A faded mark at the top of the door, resembling a Greek cross with two dark dots in the upper right and bottom left corners.

My mind felt woozy again, and my vision started to get cloudy, but I kept my composure, stepping through the door. All I could see was a long hallway stretching into complete darkness presented. Still, the walls here were immaculately kept, as if this section of the building was separated from the disaster outside. The peculiar nature did nothing to dissuade me, seeing this as the only chance I had to find some resolution.

As I walked in complete darkness, I noted no defining features on the floor or walls until the light finally appeared. I felt some apprehension, but my mind didn’t race like it usually would, only focusing on the light ahead, getting brighter and bigger with every step I took. I had no conceptions of what would be at the end or whether I would find something beautiful or horrifying. All I wanted was for this to be over.

The end revealed a giant room with a pathway leading to a circular raised platform in the middle and about seven large upright rectangular slabs around it. There were no discernible edges to the room, all seeming to trail off into a boundless void. I felt an inclination to step into the center, ambling and observing the structures. They seemed like some sort of elaborate machines, but being essentially featureless, I couldn’t ascertain much.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

A low voice entered my head. What was this?

“You were chosen.”

Chosen by whom?

“The last remaining vestiges of humanity, consolidated into one being.”

Why me? Am I even human? Is this place even real?

“This area is a small reconstruction of the earth as it currently exists, a testing ground for those deemed pure enough to carry on the legacy of humanity.”

I couldn’t believe this. Slumped on the ground, I felt a swell of emotions surge inside me as tears streamed down my face. In a way, I felt like I had known this already, but the shock and extreme disenchantment came all the same. I needed more answers.

How long have I been here?

“15,684 days, 13 hours, 47 minutes, 26 seconds.”

How many times have I found this room?

“15,684.”

My life was nothing. Was all of it just a cruel test for the “last remaining vestiges of humanity”? It was a complete joke. I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t even tell if this was real. But I knew. I had no memories of past days, no experiences—an implanted personality with ideas of what I should be doing or thinking. I wanted to wake up so badly.

“You can wake up when you pass the test.”

What test? Another vague creepy statement now?

“You’ve come close. It just requires one more step.”

As soon as the disembodied voice finished, I heard thunderous ominous laughter. A significant shaking ensued. The room started to fall apart, and a light began to shine so brightly my vision filled with white. I didn’t know what to believe now, but I accepted whatever fate was befalling me at this moment. Was it over?

“…”

I peered over the crumbling edge of the rooftop, the pitch darkness of the streets seeming to lash out at me. I felt a strange sense of comfort, and I kept looking and looking while it pulled me in. I stepped off the roof and felt the wind blowing against my limp body. Laughter filled my head.