You are aware of the passing of time even when not conscious of it. Even when unsure of how much time has actually passed or your immediate surroundings you always notice the unrelenting ticking of the clock. When sleeping, it doesn't feel like you blink your eyes and the angle of the sun has changed. Dream or not - whether you remember or not - you know the world is passing you by.

That doesn't change. Ever. The only difference is how much time actually passes.

A blank universe. The impossible nothing, ranging a vast expanse. Not a white, not a black, a nothing; incomprehensible to the comprehending. Only that which is non-sentient has a true understanding of it. In this case, one which has had its sentience stalled.

Suddenly in the nothing there is something. A pulsing. A mental process. An understanding. The Nothing disappears. It doesn't crumble, it doesn't fade, it simply leaves, and suddenly the Something has no recognition - beyond the fact that for some period of the passing of time it had stepped out of the loop and put its own story on hold.

Ouch

Suddenly there's a stinging. Where? One shoulder. The other shoulder. Two feet.

Stuck

I can't move. What's around my waist? A belt? No, a strap…

Who am I?

A flood washes over me. Complete comprehension. What was once a dripping of information does not hold back and the world comes into focus. Something becomes me, and I open my eyes and see a curving glass case encompassing my vision: still frosted, translucent but not transparent. It's cold. Frigid, in fact but I don't mind, as sensation overpowers whatever had existed before.

Catch-UNK

Suddenly the world is moving, shifting, and shaking my overwhelmed consciousness as my vision is clouded by a vapor. The ground beneath me is moving, and bringing me with it, and suddenly the world that moments before had seemed so bright is blinding.

The cold is fading. I still can't move and the world around me has given me a new appreciation of “sensory overload”. My shoulders and heels still sting, and my body throbs.

The vapor surrounding me begins to clear and suddenly, through the mist and the fog, and the haze of understanding a face fills my view. One with bright blue eyes, a receding hairline, and prominent mustache. The man has a sharp nose, wide ears, and has some unique form of monocle covering one of his eyes as he gazes down at me like some lab experiment.

“Alright, Boy-o, let's put some pep in your step.”

Before I understand what is happening a sharp pain springs out from below my chin and a coolness spreads out from it.

The man had put a NEEDLE in my NECK!

As anger begins to seep into my brain I realize the coolness pulsating through my body is…invigorating. Moments before I had ached, with no intention of shifting but now began to feel a need to spring. To run. To jump. To move, and fly and rend and tear and fight…? Wait…

A hissing fills my ears and suddenly the pain in my shoulders and heels spikes before leaving entirely. Without having to be told, I comprehend that those were more needles withdrawing from my body and suddenly realize the only thing keeping me from moving are now straps around my waist, ankles, shoulders, and wrists. A desire to break free of these and run begins to overwhelm my brain as I try to grasp who I am, where I am, and where I’ve been.

I reign myself in. An understanding of me seeps back into my brain.

My name is Damian Erulish.

A personality and a picture forms in my brain and I come into focus. Human, male, thick sandy hair that falls to my shoulders, and unruly stubble that I never let grow past a shadow. Born in 340 P.C., I'm not tall but I'm well-muscled, proud of my build and physical stature. I have a sharp nose, deep brown eyes, bushy eyebrows and am often called out for a somber and seemingly contemplative resting face.

I look down and see I'm wearing a simple black, skintight suit akin to a wet suit. One piece of midnight fabric encompasses my feet, up to my neck, and down to my wrists.

My thoughts brush past my appearance and then slam into a wall of fear, sorrow, anger, and other unnamed emotions and thoughts that lead me to the undeniable conclusion that I messed up.

Strange, coming to such complex emotions without an understanding of their source. Like untreated anxiety I'm unable to rationalize my self-pity, but not able to move past it.

It doesn't matter.

Survive.

Rend. Tear. Fight. Kill.

Animalistic instincts overwhelm my thoughts and I forget my innate sorrow. Looking around I see three figures roaming around, two appearing to be humans - one male and female - and a third identifiably a Ro-Calan: a species with emerald green skin tone and shell like protrusions coming off their head and the back of their arms on their triceps.

But I didn't care.

Why would I care?

I wanted to leap down to the ground and GO. I didn't know where, but I felt it in every ounce of my being that I had to leave and FIGHT I had to SURVIVE that why I was HERE I have to KILL and…and…and…

Mauvre.

The name hit me like a truck and I felt my body fall still and seemingly sink into the table.

Mauvre Erulish. Where was she? I had to see her. It had been long enough, there were apologies to be made. I had to tell her I had made a mistake. My reaction to her wasn’t fear or anger, it had just been an emotional cloud. So much stimulus and turbulence and I had not properly processed the world around me. Creatures do stupid things when they can't think straight. Hindsight had handed me self-reflection that left me empty and disappointed in myself…

And AGGRESSIVE.

I must have looked it, too, because I caught the Ro-Calans eyes, and it leaned towards the female in the room, who turned and looked at me.

Untie me…

Let me go, let me LOOSE. I'm hungry and I need FOOD. I have to SURVIVE. I HAVE BEEN ASLEEP TOO LONG. IT'S TIME FOR ME TO MOVE AND FIGHT AND REND AND TEAR AND KILL.

The woman stalked up to me, her eyes glowing with what looked to be pride.

“Well, Finnick, it seems to have hit this one's system quickly. I understand the security breach has reached the 4th level; they could use all the help they can get. Are we ready to send him out?” The man looked over and eagerly nodded, nodding to the Ro-Calan who quickly jogged over to a console to my right. It pressed a few keys before the table was suddenly rotating back to its original position and sliding backwards.

Before the room disappeared from view, I heard it call timidly in a whiney voice “Wake the next one!” and then the translucent glass was in front of me once again. This time however I kept going, passing through the case towards my head before emerging into another room. The table pivoted, rotating me 180 degrees before I heard a machine whirring and suddenly my world was tilting again. I feel the blood rush into my legs as suddenly my weight transfers off of my back and I feel my feet rest onto a slight lip of the table.

KUH-CHUNK

Suddenly the straps around my wrist slackened and slid away, retracting into the table. Instinct took over and I leapt to my feet.

Time to hunt.

My suit seems to tighten and I look down to see pads forming, expanding outwards from the skin tight black garment and forming a thick, carapace-like armored surface around my body, emphasizing my muscular build. Looking up I see a hallway, illuminated by a series of yellow lights lining the floor.

Before I thought about what was happening, I was prowling down the hall, following the fluorescent colors and pure instinct. I felt like my eyes were slit, and I was prepared to pounce. Suddenly, a hard, feminine voice overrode my hearing.

“Soldier Erulish. Thank you for your commitment to Ishran Intergalactic Prison. You may notice above average levels of aggression. This is normal after coming off of ice. Don't worry, this will fade. Please follow the hallway to the elevator. A riot has broken out on floor three and advanced up to five. Quell it.”

The cadence, though somewhat robotic, had an immediate effect on me. Something about the way the words were said had an undeniably compelling effect on me and I felt my entire mental process, the entirety of my brain, urge me forwards, down the hall in complete compliance. Before long, a set of elevator doors opened, and I stepped in.

I felt the edge of my lips creep up almost maniacally, and some deeply, deeply rooted element of my brain questioned why. Then it was gone.

The elevator doors closed behind me, and I felt myself lurch - not down or up, but - forwards. The elevator box I was in was simple, constructed entirely of concrete with no buttons or controls and more of the fluorescent yellow lights following the perimeter of the floor.

Within moments I feel the elevator quickly slow, and halt and in front of me a small 2 foot square of concrete seemingly bled away, leaving a barred open square in the wall revealing - before me - complete and utter chaos.

Through the opening I could see I was on a lifted walkway bordering an open courtyard with a slightly concave floor. My brain seemed numb, attempting and somehow unable to recall schematics and prior understanding that in this moment was completely, utterly, and absolutely irrelevant.

Chaos had consumed the courtyard in front of me as a flood of prisoners in baggy, neon green jumpsuits were storming everything around them. They were scattered everywhere. Like RATS. Some had vaulted up from the courtyard onto the walkway and managed to pollute the entire environment. Everywhere inmates wailed on anything near enough to strike, driven by an impulsive rage and a bloodlust to destroy. There were others appearing to be guards in dark gray armor bearing monochrome helmets, all of whom armed with plasma blasters, who either rained fire on the prisoners, ran, or were overtaken and beaten by the horde of green suited vermin.

I sat surveying the destruction, before suddenly the same feminine voice from before overrode my thoughts, saying “Fugue Soldiers standing by: Quell the riot. Thank you for your service.” The wall in front of me with the barred opening slid completely open, and suddenly, the herd mentality of the prisoners with their makeshift weapons and anger seemed…puny.

All I had to do was Strike and Rend and Kill.

By some inclination, I balled my hands into fists and suddenly felt my armor suit sprout two mounted blades on the top of my wrists.

This is what I was Meant to DO!

Somewhere on the edge of my understanding, I recognized there to be more elevators on the walkway surrounding the courtyard and knew they had just opened to reveal others in the same black carapace-like garb as that I bore.

Irrelevant. Just like that, I was out of the concrete elevator and into the fray.

In my periphery, a figure in bright green wielding a metal pole rushed me, wielding an anger and ferocity nowhere near my own.

An instinctive step to the left avoided her heavy two-handed strike, and without even noticing my arms move, the end of my wrist mounted blade sprung from the other side of her chest. My arm brought the blade back towards me, carving a clean line from the center of her chest to outside of her rib cage and back to my side. The heavy woman fell, but I didn't even notice as I leapt over the side of the walkway and felt air rush through my long hair before my feet struck the floor of the courtyard.

The next two minutes all I saw was red, the color fully clouding my thoughts and vision as I splattered the green suits around me crimson. Somewhere overhead, some guards that remained scattered shots of plasma into the crowd that left fallen bodies with smoking pits.

My face was splattered with grime and gore, none of it mine. I howled at a man with a shiv, and he turned away from me, not making it two steps before I bounded onto his back and Tore and Rent and Killed.

Suddenly something struck me and I was pulled away from my prey, the man's remains being left behind on the concave floor of the courtyard. A form was grappling with me and I rolled with it, snarling, and barking, baring my teeth in bloodlust at the figure in black above me.

I broke free of the grapple and rolled away, regaining my balance and coming to my feet, face to face with a woman of dark golden skin in the same exact suit as my own. I locked eyes with her before lowering into a crouch and preparing to pounce for no other reason than the sake of competition.

A figure in green came up behind her and reached to put her in a headlock. The woman in black flipped over the man, and without noticing what happened, I heard a sharp CRACK as the man's head turned in an unnatural direction and lolled limp. This distraction however was enough to end the contest between me and the golden woman, so I turned, scanning for my next victim.

I saw a skinny, reedy man about 20 strides away. He locked eyes with me and he turned to run.

The chase was on.

The man immediately ran towards an open bay door that seemed to have had its locking mechanism broken. The bay door led beneath the walkway above and was mirrored across the courtyard with another door. An unrealized understanding of the layout of the prison told me these two walkways led to cell blocks for the prisoners.

The man disappeared from sight into the hall, and I quickly pursued. Forms in green blurred past. I saw another creature in black armor like my own among them slashing and slicing before suddenly I was through the doors, prowling after the man.

The hall was tight, about 8 feet across, shaped to fit the ovular curve of the bay doors, a row of cells lining each side of the hall before the hall of the cell block curved upwards and out of my vision. Most of the doors were open but some were closed, bearing unescaped or recaptured inmates. I ran forwards, searching, consumed by an indescribable desire to defeat my prey.

A bulky man before me in the hallway turned and charged me. A quick kick and slash felled the weak creature, and I leapt past his fallen form, prowling for my rabbit. I leapt forwards and would have run right past my target had I not quickly glanced into an open cell on my left and seen him attempting to squeeze under a cot that barely would have covered his pitiful form anyway.

Predator and prey; a timeless relationship. I found no joy in advancing on the man, but no regret either. This is what I did. What I DO. I stepped into the room and locked eyes with my victim before—

My internal alarms go off. I'm not the only one here, Something is not right. Within moments the Predator becomes prey itself and I have not one second before my brain registers that I am not fast enough to react to the new danger appropriately. A figure drops from overhead, on top of me. Landing on my shoulders, I feel a sudden compression on my neck, and I am twisted forwards. I hear a crash behind me and know the door has been closed. I hit the floor, and while strangled by what I register to be thighs, I feel a separate, massive weight land on me and pin my body down.

Panic and anger distort my hearing and my vision and all other senses as the room fills with urgent cries and screaming from my assailants. Suddenly, I feel - once again - a sharp and intense stab beneath my chin and a subsequent warmth spreading out from it.

Pain consumes me. First physical aches and soreness, my body squealing as if a previously well-oiled machine rusted within moments. Then, a coolness as I suddenly register the cold metal floor pressed against my back and an overwhelming sense of internal frost. It's the sorrow, though, that stilled me and stopped me from fighting farther. I stopped squirming, I stopped pushing, and I stopped trying.

What kind of malice does a person have to keep in their heart to so quickly turn away from the only thing they had ever had? How had years of bickering and banter as we grew up not prepared me to make the right decision?

Wait a minute…

Floor 5. I was on floor 5.

Mauvre had been on 7. I didn't know how long had passed or if that still were the case, but I had to see her. Being employed by Ishran Prison, I'm sure I still had clearance. Why hadn’t that been the first thing I’d done?

…Why hadn’t that been the first thing I’d done?

Author note: This is the beginning of a novella length feature entitled The Fugue Soldier following veteran Damien Erulish as he goes through a betrayal perpetrated by the military he had dedicated his life and future to, while faced with the opportunity to prioritize his family in the face of this deception. A self-contained science fiction epic, aiming for a stylistic character analysis of a man looking to improve his mental station, this story is high octane, action packed, and yet built to feel personal and emotionally rooted.