Waking the Innocent

His head hurt, so much went on in his dreams. He'd been wounded or maybe that wasn't correct either. His eyes opened slowly, revealing those burning eyes. His grey skin was cracked in many places looking like a human. His eyes were black with glowing yellow almost like the sun in the sky.

His frame hurt still as though coming from a dream. The world around him felt bleak, no it felt empty. As though something was missing from it all. Pushing pieces of earth off his body he got him. His outfit was trashed but he looked as though he'd been buried alive.

He survived something, but what that was something escaping him. What was missing, he reached around his body now. Touching his torso and face softly. Feelings a mask and very much alive. His fingernails were black as he tried to get his senses. Where was this place in the desert with sand for miles?

He didn't feel hungry or thirst, no he felt no need for anything. It all felt meaningless and pointless. In fact, why did he come out of the ground anyway? Shouldn't he have just stayed there? His body felt sore and aching but no limbs were missing.

A strange hole was in his chest where his heart should have been. It was strange to be missing that piece of himself. He gently reached and put his hand in the hole. Feeling to see if it was real or not.

He'd of felt fear or anxiety normally wouldn't he if he felt something like that? Questions poured into his mind faster than he could answer them all. Hastur was the name he found on a wrist band.

It was written across the brown band that was crumbling only leaving the tarnished metal plate behind. Gripping it with strands of leather fabric there. He slipped it into his pocket. Saying the name in his head a few more times. Trying to remember the name.

It was important that he have something, a name to go off of. He sat down now not in a hurry to leave the spot he woke up. In the Deserts outside of Las Vegas. He slept for who knows how long. It all felt fragmented and empty. There was a place in the distance.

But it seemed destroyed or abandoned, what was this location? It seemed people used to live in that zone. But he couldn't remember or think clearly. Every time he tried to picture or press the issue. Pain silenced the inquires inside his mind. It hurt to push, everything was foggy and his body felt strange.

He didn't feel alive in the sense that a human would. He was human before he woke up here. Was this what happened when people died in this world? Did they become like him and break? How pointless and utterly meaningless it was to live then. If life leads to this result what was the purpose of it?

At least they were all equally tended to in that sense. That was the most important thing was equality. Why did he feel strongly about that, did his kind whatever they wore have that?

Did they have rights or anything resembling them? He couldn't know as he sat on the stone pondering. His thoughts consuming him, but they felt meaninglessly as well. Why did it all feel so bland and unimportant?

What was the meaning behind all of this, why did he survive that abandoned place? Or why did he die, did it even matter. No one wept for him or tried to find him. Obviously given his clothing and hair he'd been left beneath the rubble in the desert sands for dead.

So why was he even here?