The pain subsided. The pressure of his hands left your shoulder and you sat up.

"Stand." The man said. He was craned to you as though he saw through the hood.

You gently slid off the structure and from the tips, you placed your legs on the cooler surface, but like everything else, it normalized. The floor, white as ever, felt like a synthetic rubber. It wasn't cold, hot, or in between, it was how it was deemed to be: perfect for your feet.

The man walked back to the gap in the wall. You made to follow but your legs wobbled, your body weighed on your knees. You balanced yourself on the bed-like structure and inhaled deeply. You put one foot before the other, slowly like that, the whole mechanism flooded in. You scurried to meet up. The white hallway was large enough for a 6x6 Mercedes-Benz to drive through and it seemed unending. The top was not that high but even if you jumped, the tip of your finger wouldn't graze the top. It had nothing to do with your height. You caught a glimpse of red disappear into the corner, probably a door. You followed hastily.

The room was identical to the one you just left, only that there was no bed-like structure but the other chair-like structures protruded randomly. The man visibly sat on one along the left-wing. His red robe was well pronounced in the white background. The tips of his fingers touched and his head craned down like one deep in thought.

You stopped to maintain a reasonable distance. "Who are you?" You asked, "Where am I?"

"How about we help each other?" He spoke immediately, head still craned. "Help me do something and I tell you what you want to know."

"Help you do what?"

He raised his head and you saw his lips as he said, "As you can see, my old hands can't hold a knife anymore and it is almost Christmas..." His lips curved in a smile, apparently amazed by the stream of knowledge that washed over your face.

Christmas! It sounded familiar but vague. Even without asking, you intuitively knew what the knife was for, but you asked, interjecting, "A knife for?"

"You should know."

You knew. You thought about it, weighed the two needs.

"Well...what exactly do you want to kill?"

The tip of his fingers separated, only to find themselves dug in the side pockets of his red robe. He motioned to his feet. "Follow me,"

He moved hastily but you matched his pace. You didn't want him out of your sight again. It was a long walk through long hallways with so many corners. At a T junction the man turned right, his robe swept behind him. His hands had left his pockets and were now clasped behind his back. The route that turned left met a slightly opened door. And you saw a pale light that looked less artificial behind the door. You stood there, unsure of your next action. The man strode along, unaware of your absence.

You took the left route and doubled your steps to the door which, on like the rest of the building, wasn't white but gold. It had drawings, writings, and characters that you could not comprehend. You craned to check on the man and at that same moment, he entered a bend.

It was a trap.

You knew and the knowledge of it being a trap fueled your decision to enter it. Maybe it might shock you enough to zap you back to reality. Again, whatever that was.

You piad less attention to things you didn't understand- the drawings and characters on the golden door, reality, and why the man hasn't noticed you weren't beside him- and pushed the door, realising it took effort. The air outside was barely hot but it was hot nonetheless. As you passed the threshold, granite pinched under your feet but you didn't mind. The pale feeling of the sky gave the impression a tempest was not far off. The angry clouds arranged itself in circles. The circles encompassed smaller circles. Each circle twirled in the direction it pleased. The towering structure, you just emerged from, fitted itself in the smallest ring of cloud.

The view before you was of vast bumpy land as one would see on Mars. Trees, skinny and tall with a head to resemble palm trees, stood here and there, never in a cluster. You moved forward, felt every detail of the granite pinch under your feet. As you paced, you wondered if there was a pattern to the positions of the trees. But your mind was more focused on the mountains obscuring the horizon. The mountain, like a great wall, ran about everything.

You mentally prepared yourself to climb it. You craned to the towering structure. The golden door was still as you left it.

Maybe, the mountains or beyond it held answers. After a moment of walking, you to ran. If not for anything, for the fear of an existing protocol; of armed men wrapped in black that only make themselves visible in times like this. No matter how far you ran, the tower was still in sight and didn't look like it would ever leave.

Haven covered miles, you anticipated the storm the pale sky heralded. It felt like it would start at any moment but it never did, not even when your steps began to draw the mountains closer. The sky remained fierce. The mountain, in its towering glory, stood about a hundred feet away and you hastened your steps towards it.

You pulled your weight on a dent to assess its strength. Even if it wasn't strong enough to hold you, you already made up your mind to climb it. The rock held on fine apart from few that crumbled in your hand. You began the tedious journey up and when you finally reached a height- was never a phobia for you- you sneaked a peek over your shoulder and your pulse quickened. The ground was so far out. Ahead even seemed more distant, but intuitively, you knew you would climb it and wouldn't fall.

Your right hand searched for a higher dented area. You felt many but always went for the deeper one. Your left hand followed, then your right leg. The rock under your left leg broke off and you lost balance. The pressure of your body weighed on your wrist. The rock also threatened to yield in your grip. Your knees bruised the bumpy surface as your feet struggled to grasp something. Your grip felt weaker. Finally, your left leg entered a shallow dent and you balanced yourself, easing the pressure in your wrist. You were scared, but not trembling. So you clasped to the bumpy surface. After a while though, your right hand, once again, moved to search for a higher dent. Like that, slowly, you progressed up the mountain.

After a really long climb, you reached the top and pulled yourself up. The breeze there was hotter and it billowed furiously on every part of your body.

The top of the mountains was flat and the edge was just a stone throw. Immediately you stood on your feet, you looked down at the length you just climbed. The tower was still in sight. Eager to see, and climb down the other side, you scurried to the edge but the sight of nothingness stopped you dead in your tracks. The space beyond was a dark blanket, contrasting with lighter shades of 6lack, and the occasional white. The circular cloud was within the mountain. But beyond the mountain, for as far as you could see, was a vast blanket of nothing. You stared out for a long time.

Maybe, this was it. This would do the trick.

You were conscious in the wrong entity. The dream was getting weird. Wake up... What was your name? You had a name, you knew but what was it? Without further thoughts, you closed your eyes and leaped off. You fell for a long time, then suddenly, you suspended in air and made gentle contact with a hard surface. You opened your eyes and saw that you were back to the top of the mountain. You rose to your feet at once and leaped off again, eyes open. The breeze made you squint but you never closed them. You fell and fell. Another déjà vu hit you, but it was vague and its picture faded by the second, became more lucid, so you could bend it the way you desired. However, the moment you blinked, you suspended in the air. At least this time, your eyes were open to see the gentle contact with the ground.

Back on top.

It would take you a really long time-one you couldn't measure - to walk around the mountains that encompassed the vast land. But your mind was made up and your foot moved before the other. As you paced, you occasionally looked out to see the blank blanket. A straight white line would occasionally run in between the dark blanket like lighting. You focused on the void space as you paced, waiting for the flash to come again. It didn't. You gave up and switched your gaze to the tower. Its tip pierced the smallest cloud.

No matter how much you did, you didn't seem to get tired. If you will, you could run around the mountains uncountable times, and one more time and still not get tired. But there was this fire in your stomach that wasn't ignited until that moment. It was little as candlelight. You continued walking. There was no need to run, there was no destination.

As you paced, you realized that the mountain wasn't a complete ring. If anything, the little gap that became visible, instead of scaring you, tickled your curiosity and caused you to increase your pace. The gap widened as you drew closer. You reached the edge. The space created an alley below.

Hoping your legs won't crash, you leaped off into the alley and as your legs were about to crash on the floor, you suspended in air and gradually landed. Right foot first. The left-wing led to the encompassed land and the tower, from it's distance, was directly aligned to the alley.

The right-wing narrowed to the vast emptiness. Curiosity, no, Intuition made you take right. Counting your steps, you approached the edge, expected to see nothing but the alley continued as stairs beyond. It descended into the vast emptiness as far as eyes could see. The staircase was impossible to contain two people at once. With the certainty that if you fell nothing would happen, you scurried down the un-barricaded staircase. Two at a time.

A fog appeared ahead. It spiked your heart but didn't slow your pace. You entered the fog and it fogged your sight. You kept your head down. As long as you saw the next step, you took it. You passed that fog and could see another one below. For now, you enjoyed the view of nothing.

You entered the second fog and emerged on the landing. White as the interior of the tower, the floor before you also felt like thick synthetic rubber. The space was not more than a plot and had a circular shape to resemble an arena. For a while, you saw nothing then at the edge you noticed small movements and your eyes locked with a red blob hovering inches from the ground. You moved closer, eyes fixed on the red blob. The red blob shaped like an insect, but whatever insect it was, it barely moved, but it moved.

You hastened your steps and made your vision better. Recognition washed over you, and your pace reduced until you halted inches from a white hen. The red blob was not an insect, but the hen's comb and wattle.

Right from choosing that left-wing, walking through that golden door down to the mountain, and leaping off; to show that there was no way out. And walking around to find that alley that led to this hen; everything was right, was meant to be.