QUENTORIUM
by Vikrant Mishra
QUENTORIUM
Written & Illustrated by
Vikrant Mishra
Miracle Stories Publications
To Jumana and Yash.
Chapter I As he sensed the familiar irritation growing under his skin, his nails instantly flew towards his itching scalp, wanting to tear it apart. Despite the numbing pain the unhealed wounds caused, he still wanted to be there. The air at Hagmuth I somehow made it less painful than the air back at home. Embracing the uneven texture of the bark, he sat amongst these methodically placed trees for hours. The only living being there, other than him, was the old owl hooting its call. It carried the dark wings of the lost light and feathered face of the fallen rebellions. With all these emotions put together, he didn’t quite feel alone. It was as if there was someone looking out for him. The owl grew quiet and sunk inside the hollow as a distant burbling broke the eerie silence. Lost in his self-healing, Jacob had forgotten to keep track of the time. As soon as he heard the rain falling, he leapt to his feet. It wasn’t long before a drop splattered on his left arm, creating a burning hole through his skin. He yelped as the announcement echoed along through the sky, “The facility is going to shut in 3 minutes.” He rustled through the trees with something little more than his memory to guide him. Of course he’d been here before. As the burns started engulfing his skin, his steps shortened. The pain that just a few moments ago was burning like fire, had now faded away to an icy numbness. The wounds no longer made him feel anything, as the blinding pain slowly dwindled his vision. This darkness took him back to a similar rainy day six years ago, a day that had changed Jacob’s life forever. “Don’t let go Jacob, please... I’m not gonna leave you,” Lila whimpered as his blistered hand escaped from hers. His perception of time distorted and everything slowed down until there was nothing. Only she remained and the light above. The light that finally swallowed her whole. Her hand reached out, but by that time she was already beyond the horizon. Suspended mid-air, he closed his eyes and surrendered himself to that
surreal existence. The last sight he caught of her, brought back all the grave memories whose ashes could darken the morning sky. He hadn’t held her hand for longer, but now he was beginning to think he should have. He didn’t even know if she made had it past the Quentorium. He had heard that the last batch of troops did not make it alive. All of these memories started fading again as the whizzing of decay escaped his ears. “Is anyone around?” he cried out as the radiation levels peaked. The pain had started overpowering all of his viable senses. Just when he was about to black out, something made him hold on a little bit longer. The familiar stench. He looked around as the greens of the trees turned into charcoal due to the rain. “Wake up and smell the ashes”, it said, written on the wall with blood of the highborn. You could tell by the unsettlingly foul, yet satisfying stench. There was not a tinge of humanity in that scent. He could have been six hundred and fifty years old, or more. But that’s what happened when you took life extenders. It somehow consumed the life within you. Who you were fifty years ago would seem like a different person altogether. “Should’ve burned all of us.” Jacob murmured to himself. The colours enhanced as he sucked in the aroma, “the machines were lead grey and the orbs white...” Little did he realise that it wasn’t any ordinary wall, it was the wall of the Quentorium. Jacob turned around and was baffled. He had never seen it so up close. Quentorium divided Hagmuth in two equal halves. One side being Hagmuth I, for the lowborn, while the other side was Hagmuth II, for the highborn. The wall had later been transformed into a jail; to remind people of the constant need for cultivating fear within and being humble. They said it maintained the equilibrium. Choosing sides was a necessity at times indeed. Standing at that point he felt small and inconsequential, as the wall seemed to transcend towards the sky. Jacob knew he could not stay around even a little bit longer but the smell of the rebellion blood
fuelled his lost urges. Just when he thought he had caught a firm grip onto his senses, THUD! and everything turned black.
Chapter II Only weeks ago the air was warm and the forests were deep summer green. The whispering rustle of the leaves, only audible once the daytime breeze started fading. Now they were tinged red and gold. The fallen and the decayed. It had started pouring regularly. The days were becoming shorter. The shortening of days meant longer and darker nights. It wouldn’t be long before the winter would show Hagmuth, a darkness it had never seen before, and the all-knowing owl would witness it all. Lila snuggled in excitedly, saying, “Jacob, I still cannot believe they’re letting you come with me! There is no one stopping us now. No more hiding!” Jacob snickered, “Well, love, where else would I rather be?” “So, did you tell them or...” “I haven’t told them yet and I guess I should not. I’ll be burnt alive, just how my family was...” “Don’t Jacob. Let’s not. Have you left your chord in the receptacle? It’s almost the time.” Jacob nodded as Lila pulled him closer. It was entirely organic, but to the unaccustomed human eye it was simply constructed of something iridescent. It shined like molten lead. The acidity of the rain somehow didn’t burn the outer surface. Newer additions kept being built by workers from other multiverses, and the innards had been replaced several times over. The inside of the Asphodel was beautiful. It was suggested that the ship was only partially in their reality and that it was visiting from another dimension. As it moved there was no gust of wind, no sound, as if somehow, it didn’t even displace the air. Lila joined the command team below the hatch, as Jacob took his seat.
They knew it was time when the announcement read, “Please fasten your chords. Asphodel will now head towards Hagmuth II.” Just when Asphodel was about to ascend, a blaring alarm broke the stillness inside it. Lila had never heard the siren during an actual mission, yet years of training had prepared her for it. “Intruder alert!” Commander’s tense voice came from an open hatch above Lila, “Source?” Knowing undeniably that it was Jacob’s hatch, she replied hesitantly, “It says H518, Sir”, while staring at the monitor on the bridge. “Sensors are only telling me two things: it’s not an inscribed passenger of any kind, and there isn’t any configured chord detected! We’ll have to release the hatch. Now.” Before Lila could process what had happened, Jacob’s hatch had already been opened. She climbed and extended herself as far as she could to reach Jacob. It was just in time that Jacob had managed to get a hold of Lila’s hand before falling in the deep crates of Quentorium. Both of them clasped and struggled mid-air as the acidic rains burned holes through their flesh. Lila screamed for help inside the hatch, but was not loud enough. No one responded. Something had changed her. Was it the fear of being called a renegade? She knew she’d be prisoned in Quentorium if anyone got to know about her “lowborn love”. How long could she hold on to him anyway? And why would she? “I’m gonna leave you to this now.” “No Lila. No.”, Jacob whimpered as she slowly let go of him. “Look me in the eyes!”
“It’s not you. It can’t be you Lila!” All at once Jacob’s body ceased to fall downwards at the speed of light, as the hurricane of acidic rains whirled around him. The scenery started to blur and blend as his head tilted toward the forest canopy. The expected thump of the ground never came and instead he was still falling, only now it was utterly black. Lila’s voice overpowered his senses again and, “Jacob, you’ll have to wake up now…1...2...3” :SNAP: The light jolted his awareness to life. His eyes were still shut but he could see that he was not where he thought he was. The black scenery suddenly catapulted him into the spotlight. The hard concrete floor rose up to greet him as he tumbled headfast onto it. Jacob awoke without warning, eyes flung so wide that each iris was a perfect orb. The thump was so strong that it felt as if he’d broken his cheekbones, but that had never really happened. The uneven concrete floor caressed his cheeks as he began to come back to his senses. He was lying face-down on his stomach, breathing in the rancid residue that coated the floor; it smelled like death. Was this the rebellion blood? When suddenly, “Welcome to the Quentorium, Jacob!”
Chapter III “Who’s that?” he quavered as he looked around. The speaker blared shot. Feeling every beat of his heart pounding on the cold stone he lay upon, there was only one sound to be heard; the sound of his own pulse throbbing in his ears. “How did I end up here?”, he asked himself. This is where they kept all the rebellions troops. The place was designed to take so much more than humanity. By the time a person would’ve done even half their minimum sentence here, they’d rarely recall their name. For the most part their sanity is shot, they swing between crying for their mothers and battling invisible demons. The walls bore witness to the pain of his men. But he could see no one around. All the cells were empty. Suddenly the silence surrendered to the deathly footfalls, as the corridor nearby slowly prised open. A narrow stream of light meandered through the darkness, and a shadow quickly followed. The footfalls became steadily louder; he scrambled to stand, straining against the darkness to see what or who was coming. A hand appeared from nowhere and tightened a chord on his left wrist. “Wha...what is happening?”, he stuttered. He resisted but found his feet dragging along the concrete, making him lose his balance. His legs twitched, fighting the impulse to whirl around and sprint down that damp, shadowed corridor but gave up too soon. The lights flickered as they ascended, as if they hadn’t been turned on for a long long time. As they escaped the corridor, blazing daylight blinded him. He didn’t even realize the vastness of that split second in which they reached the
end of some gigantic hall. The ceiling was space high. It looked as if it literally touched the moon and came back. But there was something more to be seen there. “It is less than a memory but so much more than a dream. Isn’t it Jacob?” For a second, the both stood there, staring at each other. She was assessing him as if he was a mere prey, while he simply watched her because he knew it was her. He fell short of words. “Lila, you’re alive? Is it really you?” He clenched his fists as he hesitantly took a trembling step. In the next moment, the paralyzing hurt spread through his body like icy, liquid metal as he fell on the floor. “I thought the rain would’ve been too much, but it looks like it did its job.” “Wha...the rain? I’ve missed you so much, Lila. I looked for you everywhere! For days. For years.” “So did I. There hasn’t been a single day that I didn’t think about you. It’s been six years.” “I can’t believe my eyes right now. I love you, Lila.” “I love you too. I always did Jacob. You were one of the last ones. How could I not?” “…last ones? What are you even saying?” “You’re the only rebellion left, Jacob. All of your troops and their families were burnt alive, just like yours.” “What? Why would someone commit such an inhuman act?”
“Well, someone needed to clean the filth.” Jacob could not believe what his ears had just heard. He forced himself to not judge the person he had loved for so long. “It’s not you, Lila!? It can’t be you.” “It has always been me, the Lila that you loved.” “How could I fall for a person so monstrous? Why did I not see what was beneath that facade?” “It’s love, Jacob. It blinds people. But, you don’t need to worry anymore because very soon, all of this is just gonna fade away.” “...what are you waiting for then? Kill me too. I don’t fear death.” “Fear is like shackles, Jacob. It holds you down. Fear is a knife in the gut that is slowly being twisted, fear is a constant hammer on the head; not death. It is the fear of existence while being completely non-existent. Just like a dream. You never really know if it’s real or not until you hit the floor.” “What do you mean?” “I had no plans of killing you. You always were a part of the bigger picture. Haven’t you realized it yet?” “You disgust me, Lila. Why are you doing this?” “To keep us alive Jacob. You’re not a chapter in a book anymore. You’re a fragment of a memory. You’ll be viewed again and again and again, until we get the most out of you.” “It’s time you really wake up and smell the ashes!”
“Soon. See you on the other side, my love.” said Lila as she terminated the chord. Jacob swayed for a moment, before the guard caught him and lowered him to the ground. “Log J12: It starts with the fall. Everything turns black. He finds himself falling in his darkness again. He’s reacting just like last time. Just that here is a sense of familiarity in Jacob’s vision this time. The next moment, all that is being lived before, deems itself brand new. He wakes up in the middle of these methodically placed trees. The monotony is quite unreal and discomforting for him. For one moment he thinks everything’s fake, but then this uneven bark distracts him. He doesn’t feel lonely. The owl in the hollow might be the reason. Jacob is fading in his vision again. A drop spatters on his left arm creating a burning hole through his skin. He lunges on his feet and gazes at the sky. He’s not running this time. Something else has caught his attention. Wait... It’s not the simulation. It’s us.” “So, shall we run this again?”
ABOUT THE BOOK A confused Jacob wakes up in a world without anybody, lost in the vast evergreen of a place unknown.” The facility is going to shut in 3 minutes” a voice echoes. Where is everyone? Where is Lila? And what is that smell, the itch running through his body? Quentorium is a short story based in a dystopian future where men divide and rule. The author takes inspiration from the US Mexico border conflict to weave this new narrative to enable a deeper understanding of our present times. The wall that has been reason for sorrow for so many years is the prime inspiration. It’s metaphor in this story allows the reader to walk in the shoes of the many lives that get disrupted in this impractical tug-of-war of identity, relationships and a place to call home. Find out yourself if Jacob is home or lost in a cycle of no tomorrow. ABOUT THE AUTHOR As a designer, Vikrant has always used his platform to solve and unearth answers to the questions that are really the need of the hour i.e. climate change, pollution and many more such. This innate need to solve the burning issues of the hour festers from his upbringing. Growing up, his house had a very well maintained garden thanks to his father. He learnt how to nurture, propagate and enable plants to grow in a healthy manner. His duties helping his father maintain the garden has induced many values in him like – being observant, patient, dextrous, empathetic and kind. The value he cherishes the most is-being in harmony. Being respectful and helpful and always contributing to enable all forms of life to comfortably co-exist with us human beings is his motto.
VIKRANT MISHRA, 21 Freelance Designer & Production Artist
Intellectual Property of Vikrant Mishra.
_vikmish / Vikrant Mishra / Vikrant Mishra