The Rewind

No one remembered the nothingness, but she did. It came every night.

The storm was coming again. Fable felt it in her bones. The winds came screaming down in anger then the rain made its violent entrance. She closed her eyes to the cold wind biting at her face. When she opened her eyes the storm had stopped. There was blackness all around where before the sky was lit up brilliantly by the violent storm. The only sound was of the puppy whimpering in the distance. Fable stepped out to walk to him, but her foot sunk down into the mud. With each step, her foot made a sucking sound when she lifted it. The darkness engulfed her like a heavy blanket, and she felt an overwhelming desire to drop to her knees, but the mud was too deep. She cried out to her puppy, “Sebi,” but her voice died in the air.

With every step, she sank further. Fable could still hear the puppy whimpering off in the distance. She sighed. He was still okay. As she walked on, her foot found a root. She tripped and fell abruptly to her knees, but the ground didn’t catch her fall she kept sinking like the ground was made of quicksand. She fought the pull of the mud, but it was no use. The more she struggled the faster she sank. The ground swallowed her up and she closed her eyes and mouth. She started falling and time seemed to stop. This was different, she thought. Obviously, this was different, but up until this point, there was a sense of deja vu. This day seemed to be on constant rewind.

The day started with coffee, but that’s not unusual. Nothing was unusual about the day, but she couldn’t remember what happened the day before. Everyone in town walked around in a daze saying good morning and remarking about the weather. She had come into town to pick up some more dog food and a bottle of wine. Another exciting night with just her and a small puppy and a bottle of wine. It was all so ordinary and yet familiar. Now she was falling, and that certainly wasn’t familiar.

Her head swam and the darkness engulfed her. She awoke on a cold, wet, hard floor of a cavern. She held up her hand, but couldn’t see it. There was nothing but darkness. Fable stood up and patted herself down checking gingerly for injuries from her fall. Her head ached, but it didn’t seem related to her fall. It felt more like she needed to sleep. Somehow she wasn’t injured at all. She crept forward and in the distance, she saw a faint light.

Staring at the light, she tried to work up the courage to move forward. Without warning, a shiver ran down her back. It was like death himself had run his fingers down her spine. She crept forward. Every step sounded loud to her. She heard voices up ahead. They grew louder with each step. Who could be down here? She wondered if perhaps others had been pulled in by the mud and awoken in this alien place.

She stopped once she was close enough to make out their words. “The subjects are responding, but they still seem unaware of the rewind.”

“Wait a minute. Take a look at this Frank,” said another voice.

She heard the squeak of a chair as it rolled across the floor. “Interesting. One of the subjects is off the grid.”

Fable held her breath. She was sure she was the missing subject.

“I’m hitting the reset button.”

“But what about the missing test subject?”

“Maybe the reset will fix it.”

She didn’t want to be reset. Why were they resetting everyone? She ran forward and stopped suddenly. The room was empty except for a mounted camera and speaker. The speaker squeaked and a voice spoke. “Congratulations, subject 4-3-5, you have passed the first test.” Then, there was a piercing loud noise, and Fable dropped to her knees clutching her hands to her head, trying desperately to protect her ears from the sound. But it was no use. The sound stabbed into every corner of her being. The pain was unbearable until it was gone. Until everything was gone and the world was black. 

Fable awoke in her cabin with a headache. The puppy came to her bedside whimpering. Fable pulled the covers over her head. “Go away, Sebi my head hurts.” There was something she needed to remember, but whatever it was slipped her mind like trying to hold water in your hands. She overcame the urge to stay burrowed under the covers the entire day. Dragging her feet to the kitchen, she was happy to find the coffee was already waiting for her and whispered a silent thanks to whoever invented coffee timers. She grabbed the bag of dog food. It was almost gone; she would have to pick up more in town today. She dropped the bag and covered her mouth with her hand. That was what she had forgotten. This was all familiar. Blood rushed to her head and everything started to turn black, and then she heard a voice, “Subject 4-3-5 is being deactivated.”