by Dan Dillard
PARTICIPATE. BELIEF IS WHAT HUMANS TURN TO WHEN THERE IS NO PROOF.”
It spoke in a haughty manner that made Ethan ball up his fists. He would’ve struck out if he’d had a target to aim for.
“Nothing you’ve said has proven anything. You’re just a voice in my head.” Ethan turned his back away from the voice.
”I GAVE YOU DREAMS.”
The voice sounded joyous, as if it were chuckling in amusement. Ethan's heart sank. This thing had control of his mind, even his dreams. He knew it to be true. Even if it hadn't been real, his feelings were real. This monster gave him a family, gave him love. Then it killed his child in one reality and ripped Emily and his friends from him in another. His face reddened and he wanted to lash out.
“AH, THERE IT IS…WRATH. BY FAR, MY FAVORITE SIN. YOU HUMANS WIELD IT SO POORLY.”
Ethan was trying his best to shut down, eyes closed, trying to clear his mind, when it grabbed hold of him. The sensation was like something had gripped him by the nape of his neck and lifted him off the ground as a dog would carry its puppy. He screamed in pain, and as he opened his eyes, he saw his feet leave the floor, dangling in the air.
Blood streamed down his back as invisible claws dug into his neck. An invisible hand smashed into his face, slapping hard enough that the pain made Ethan convulse and vomit. Blood now flowed from a split in his lower lip, which had swelled until the skin was tight, and was already starting to bruise. Then the second blow came, this time across the other cheek. A smack so powerful that his limbs went numb, and when its grip released, he fell to the ground in a pile like a featherweight boxer who was just crushed by a heavyweight champion.
“I WILL TELL YOU WHEN WE ARE DONE.”
The voice was calm and singular. Ethan's head felt as if screws were being tightened in his skull; he could hear the bones flexing and a sound like the groaning of an old wooden ship’s hull under the stress of the ocean beneath. His eyes bulged and burned, dizziness washing over him like a fuzzy grey sweater pulled over his head and then—blackness.
