"!!!" Connor Wyatt's consciousness snapped awake. Only his last memory lingered. The pain of betrayal, the gunshot, and the cold hard floor as he drifted off into the abyss.
He tried to move, to breathe, and to feel anything. Yet, there was nothing, endless silence in a sea of pure darkness. For some reason, he could sense his heart rapidly beating, and the phantom sensations of sweat and tension in a body he could no longer move.
"!!!" He sensed his body contort in immeasurable pain. The shaking of his body, the tension in the air and then a striking pain coming from his mind and then the darkness gradually grew darker and terrifying. As if the abyss stared back at him.
Terror did not come gently towards him. It dragged him further under, as if being washed down into the abyss. With each passing moment, his mind remained cruelly awake. Every pulse of blood he sensed throughout his body became a strike of iron, reverberating from his skull to the rest of his body.
Unfortunately, it was not pain alone, it was an entire siege, relentless and merciless, a hammering that echoed through the hollows of his bones and every fiber of his being.
Everything, from his limbs to the inner part of his chest cavities felt so heavy. As if he was chained beneath a stone. Yet, every nerve of his being screamed in agony. A stabbing pain came to his eyes, as if it was being seared on a fire.
Silence, so peaceful and tranquil, rippled like claws, tearing through his mind, demanding something pleasant to soothe a poor soul. However, even the most realistic hallucination whispers carried the weight of thunder.
Deep within the very pits of his being, a sickly ocean tide rolled with each heartbeat. A scent that was merely hallucination became venomous, as if it was being assaulted by the most foul of them all.
Every attempt at breath stung, every scent clawed at him, until his entire being trembled in revolt. Somewhere within the drowning haze, numerous fragmented thoughts remained. Brittle and fearful they were.
He knew with each passing second, he was slipping, losing the tether of the world he once knew, yet the torture remained, like a prison to his own mind, no escape, no mercy, only the cruel awareness of the storm raging within him. Powerless, and trapped between waking and oblivion.
As if drifting further into the abyss, a sudden moment of respite and clarity came, his mind started recollecting itself. He began to wonder, where did it all go wrong?
Was it ordered by his family? Or had he stepped on something he should not have? After all, the streets of Wall Street were where the brightest minds came to socialize. But in reality, each and every corner was fraught with intrigue, staining each sign, each structure, and office with blood and gore.
It was a terrifying existence once a deeper dive for information was done. Nevertheless, the public never knew, and it remained one of the financial capitals of the world. Billions of dollars, going in and out, as well as body bags that were hidden away.
Then with grave realization, like a tsunami on a calm morning, he realized that it was all planned. The more he thought about it, the more clarity he could see. It was a conspiracy, because he was a threat to their plans.
He believed in the progress of humanity, he knew that only they, the rich people, had a choice to advance society. After all, they had the resources and the capabilities to do so. Yet those who stood at the top were appalled by his behavior and beliefs.
They wanted control and to widen the gap between classes. So that they could keep the people under their feet, as they enjoyed the luxuries the world had to offer. They were simply contented with the status quo, and they wanted it to remain forever and ever.
He found such things repulsive and disgusting. His stomach churned at the thought, his morals would not allow it. Yet, with a heavy and wounded heart, it frustrated him, it angered him, rage boiled deep within. Only for it to be snapped out of existence.
What was the point of rage? He was now dead, gone, drifting in the void for eternity. There was a tugging feeling within his heart, it became louder and louder, a desire for life, to start anew grew stronger.
Then as if all the chains within his body were broken, he felt incredibly calm, tranquil and peaceful. Now unbound, he raised his phantom-like hands, stretching them towards the abyss. With one wish, he wished upon the dark sky of the abyss.
That if he could start anew, he would make sure he would live it to the fullest, unbound by his previous idealism. Even if he had to participate in what those of Wall Street did, he would do so. Anything to achieve what he wanted.
In the past he had the money, but he did not have the will to accomplish it. This time hopefully, he would do so. Then as if the darkness heard him, a bright light shone in front of him.
His phantom-like hands and body regained their colors, his vision returned, and his senses became fully functional. He was fascinated, as he stared at a giant clock in front of him.
The time was ticking, slowly and slowly. Then suddenly without a moment's notice, it shone brightly, and soon stars within the sky appeared. The clock ticked faster and faster, along with a streaking pain within his head.
Thousands of memories he did not know or understand suddenly flashed through his mind. It was different, it was not him, yet strangely familiar, and with a sudden lullaby, he drifted off into slumber, and the clock finally stopped ticking, as darkness soon reentered through the frail world.
In a world far away, a man suddenly snapped awake from his long coma, shocking those around him.