Fiction · Short Stories · Uncategorized

The Veda: Prologue

In the beginning there was darkness….

Or Light….

Or who the fuck knows.

I know there was Me. Who am I?

I am the steady hand poor souls grasp for at the end of their day’s embodiment. Some reach out in joy, some cower in fear at my approach, but the ones that accept their fate in the unknown with grace… those are my favorite. They are like me. It is a common misconception that I know what happens when you die, that I play some judge or jury for your afterlife, if there even is one. For all I know your “life” is just a dusty old record that won’t stop skipping. Play. Stop. Restart. Always the same tune.

Or maybe there is an afterlife. Like you I ponder and think and contemplate the infinite questions that Existence has to offer. The only difference is that I’ve been doing it WAY-FUCKING-LONGER than you. Since the Beginning I have been here, living in the Ether that long ago some called the Veda. I travel its pathways linked by the collective consciousness of the Living. Summoned here, called there, most often it’s hardly traveling.  I’m ripped from my own thoughts, my contemplation of the Veda, and plunged into a dank room some jackass thought would look better with his brains on the wall.

I am Death, the Transference.   I do not know if there is a God. I can’t remember the Beginning, at least not the way one think I might. I don’t know if I was made, or have always been. I don’t receive orders from any power that may have made me. The Calls, are more like a force. I don’t control them, I don’t have a choice. There’s no instructions manual or set of rules. My earliest memory is of the first soul I met, and staring, piercing through those endless brown eyes, past the fear, the regret, the pain and confusion, and I saw my reflection at the end of them. And there I was, ready to embrace him.  From there, I’ve always been Death.

You can call me something else if it makes you feel better, but Time as you know it, where names change, and meaning evolves, is nothing to the eternity of meeting souls freshly relieved from their mortal coil. Most civilizations have called me Death, and so Death I must be. I welcome souls unto my warm embrace and then what comes next, I do not know. For me it’s usually being ripped open and flung onward through the Veda to another soul. Lather, Rinse, Repeat. Humans can’t appreciate what they fear, this I understand. And to fear the unknown, to fear me, is natural, and that is why the calm ones are my favorite. We greet each other with smiles and a palpable sense of adventure. But for me that is where it ends. That is my burden, eternal unknown, with all the time to think about it….until Him.

The Veda I have always known is now something entirely different; it is not the home where I live, or the path that I travel connecting the consciousness of the mortal, that name was stolen after the last Great War. The Veda is now a man-made network, connecting and intertwining the consciousness of human beings. In 2040, humanity’s greatest fear, with the exception of Yours Truly, was realized. The Great War. Mutually assured destruction. It was a very busy time for me, a very painful time. What followed for those that survived, was escape. The colonization and terraforming of new planets was imperative if human beings intended to survive. And so they did.

The fatal flaw I’ve always seen in the human race is the very thing they treasure most, their Will. The evolution of logical thought in a living organism was a major moment in what you might call my Life. An anomaly, a bug, a coincidence. No longer was I keeping the natural order more so than putting up with the incessant nagging of human beings who couldn’t understand the very significance of their existence. Evolution of the natural order had ceased. Human beings evolved until that fateful day when one of them had the bright fucking idea to make something. No longer was the environment the factor in this species survival, they learned to adapt the world to their own needs. And they didn’t stop there, killing species after species, inventing genocide, killing their own kind by the hundreds of thousands in the name of a fear they know nothing about. Their reward…Me.  And this goes on for centuries. It was enough to make me beg for someone like myself, a luxury I know will never come. And then… I met Him.

Visha. I knew his name as soon as he appeared. In a shit scattered alley standing over some poor starved soul, he appeared. And I saw his eyes, the same eyes I saw myself in so many eternities ago. And then he was gone. I lost him from the Consciousness. He had returned to the Veda they know now, their fallacy. He might not have noticed if he was blinking. But this was no small event. Like all acts of creation there must first be an act of destruction. And this was just the beginning….

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