A torrent of fear and a sickening disorientation seized him entirely. With a flash of blazing neon lights, his soul was wrenched free from his body. An unfamiliar sense of consciousness dawned on him. What happened? He could not seem to stitch together his final moments. Only the coruscating frenzy of a cold blue, the deepest of red, and a toxic green searing into his eyes. There was a garbled voice that rang metallic, echoing off the corporate tower before him. He felt the faintest compulsion to eat something, until he realized he could no longer feel hunger without his body.
But…where was it? He searched the begrimed city walls and scanned over the endless graffiti. To one side, the only clean surface was the holographic screen on the tower, which emanated that same, deep red. Were these the lights he saw? His awareness came trickling back to him as he hovered towards it in his spectral form. He stopped. Hidden just within the tower’s shadow, a horde of twisted bodies groaned discordantly. Were he still alive, his skin would have risen into bumps.
Was he…Was he among them? The thought unsettled him as he searched through the waste— the smell must have been revolting, he thought. He was unsure how he would even be able to recognize himself when all the squirming corpses seemed to blend together into one, gelatinous mound.
Although, what did he look like? Did he even know his own name? All his remembrance was dominated by those flashing colors and the ringing, metallic voice. He almost didn’t want to see his body so corrupted beyond recognition. A low whirring sound came from above, as a figure formed onto the holographic screen. Every mangled body drew their eyes upward, transfixed by the sight.
“ROT IS JOY—” It was the voice again. Flashes of red, blue, and green blinded him just as before. The words felt eerily familiar, as though a deep impression was only just now quieting.
Again, the voice resounded off the dark tower, “ROT IS JOY. HUNGER IS FULFILLMENT.” Cascading moans filled the foggy night, a deep tremble growing among the dead. A head turned to face him just as he was consumed by the screen above.
An aquiline nose just bent out of shape, deep set eyes, and a gaunt face looked back at him. After scrutinizing its features that had been marred by decay, he at last recognized himself.
Jaeger. His name was Jaeger. He had given himself over to the voice when all hope was lost, when all he craved was joy and fulfillment in life. Floating above his alienated body, he watched as it turned together in complete unison with the others. In one slow wave of motion, they bent their heads down and allowed their rotted brains to fall hard into brown clumps on the ground. Its squishing sound made Jaeger’s spirit convulse with disgust. His body, however, looked ravenously upon it and began to gorge himself on the remains of his decaying mind.
Was this the escape he wanted? That they all wanted? As his reanimated corpse devoured the site of his former intellect, the holographic screen flashed a sickly, toxic waste and repeated those once venerating words:
“ROT IS JOY. HUNGER IS FULFILLMENT.”
