Crimson Tears
In the beginning, there was one big crimson hill, and on top of that one hill, there was a crimson tower. The sky above it was a constant shade of scarlet and white. Sometimes, it was said that there was also a lake with deep crimson water somewhere, but this was not known to be a fact.
A small child lived in that one tower, on the top of that one hill. It was during a silent day when the child, who was known by many names but who we will simply refer to as 'the child', was playing calmly on a chair, which was maybe too big for his small body. On the table in front of him was the gift he'd received that very morning.
It had suddenly appeared on his bed, wrapped carefully with a dull brown paper. A tiny card had been hanging from a string that was apparently attached to the wrapping paper. Although it'd been small, the hundred and so names he was known as, had been neatly written on it. The package was so simple and so uninteresting that he'd thought it would be nothing special. Only now did he realise how wrong he'd been.
As he stared intently at his wonderful gift, he thought about what his next step would be. The gift he'd received was a new artefact for the entertainment and benefit of children his age. It was supposed to stimulate his imagination, and hopefully, help him reach adulthood swiftly and successfully.
The object in front of the child was an empty transparent box, and although it didn't look unusual or different in any way, the walls had five special sensors which responded only to the child's brain commands.
Maybe for the first time, the child felt excitement running through his veins, increasing his heartbeat. He wanted to create his fantasy dream world slowly, and he wished for nothing more that for it to be perfect. Although the child did not know it, he already had a huge imagination, and there was nothing this game could do to stimulate it further. But that didn't stop him from challenging himself, and after minutes of deep concentration, he made his first decision; he didn't wish to create only one dream world, he wanted to create several because he had so many ideas in his young, but full of knowledge head, that he couldn't choose only one and selfishly ignore the others. He was going to create more than one world.
The child thought of more that a hundred, then more than a thousand, then more than a million different worlds he wanted to see coming to life inside the little translucent box. He planned it all with great care, making sure that perfection could reach every single one of his miniature worlds. They would all be spheres, he finally decided. Spheres were logical and easy to understand. They usually brought a calm feeling with them, unlike his own world, surrounded by confusion, darkness and the growing feeling of the unknown.
Moments later, the child came to another conclusion. There would be huge spheres of fire floating freely in some places, providing light and warmth to the different worlds that would soon exist inside his magnificent gift. But even though he had already reached the point where anyone would be impressed with what he planned to create, the child still didn't feel it was enough. He could feel it in his chest; his heart beating rapidly, asking for more with each strong beat. He could feel in his whole body, as the elation he had felt slowly subsided, being replaced with anticipation. Could his wish be too much to be fulfilled?
The child hoped not, and with that, he turned his gaze to the golden clock on the wall. He had plenty of time to play, he realised with a small, but definite smile. With utter carefulness, he set the box on the table in front of him, and felt the soft texture of the glass; velvet smooth, he thought. He closed his eyes, still caressing the edge lightly, as if this box was his most precious possession.
And then, as he allowed his imagination to unfold around him, his thoughts turned into commands. The five sensors responded with swiftness, injecting a tiny particle into the vacuum only seconds after the child had thought about it. The tiny particle settled in the middle of the box, allowing the child to gaze at it intently. A tear trickled down the side of his face, emotions rushing into his system. Such a small thing, so small it's almost invisible…yet, it is the beginning of millions of new worlds, he thought to himself, marvelling at the realisation.
Another command, and the one particle floating in the middle expanded, then replicated itself. Thousands of particles emerged from it, expanding at such a fast pace that his new creation almost seemed like an explosion. The child then concentrated completely on his task, and slowed everything down. Following this, his first world was created.
It was a scarlet sphere of fire, emanating light and warmth to its black surroundings. Soon, another world came to life, much smaller than the first, but beautiful nonetheless. This one was a white sphere, its surface a smooth patch of ice. Before the child noticed, there were more worlds, of different sizes and colours, each with its own unique qualities. But even after thousands of worlds had been created, the child was still not satisfied.
After a few minutes of sheer concentration, he finally understood how to fulfil the craving he'd been feeling. He arranged his worlds in strange shining spirals that emanated light in every direction. Such a beautiful sight, the child thought, pleased with himself. Then, from all his creations he chose a thousand worlds, generally the small, less attractive ones, and called them 'the chosen ones', for those thousand spheres had a special purpose in the child's mind.
And so, he gave commands. The five sensors obeyed. The child decided to call the next events 'a miracle', as he observed with rapt attention how the thousand chosen spheres aligned themselves at exactly the right positions…to create the most extraordinary thing: life. The child's lips twisted into a smile as he watched the birth of life in the thousand spheres all at once.
The first creatures were all extremely small, and the child struggled to see the detail in their miniature bodies. It was also hard to concentrate on the millions there already were, since they reproduced enormously fast. But it didn't take them long to evolve, and as they did the child willed the new creations to be born in the image of the beings he had seen during his short life.
And it was like that, that a variety of creatures were created in the child's universe. Some developed faster than others, some stopped completely at points while others got to the point where they even understood how they had been created and how it was possible for them to exist at all. Some even explored every corner of the box, and every sphere there was to explore. What pleased the child the most though, was that to some extent, they were all aware of their creator, even if many chose to rebel against him.
But although there were so many differences between different creatures, there was one similarity that united all and every single one of them. They all had some form of evil within them. The child cried crimson tears at the realisation that he had been unable to stop his own world's crimson rage from being reflected onto his own, special dream world. His tears kept falling, painted crimson red by the scarlet ray of light coming from the window.
Having a better look at each creature in his miniature universe, he convinced himself that they weren't the amazing beings he had planned to make. They had merely no intelligence. They had almost no emotions. All the creatures he'd created, all the spheres and beautiful worlds, they were all just a childish game for children.
And as the gift had promised, it would help him become an adult swiftly and successfully. The child was not a child anymore. He had become an adult, and as such, he had to put childish things away. For only once more, he gazed intently at his creations. All the creatures were waiting, waiting in an unusual silence, waiting for what some of them called 'the apocalypse'.
The child shed a final tear, and gave a final command with his mind. The contents of the box vanished as if they had never actually been there, and a small card took their place. The card read: 'We hope you found this product a stimulating way to develop your imagination. Thank you."
The child, who was no longer a child, but a man, walked down the stairs of the tower and found himself outside. In the back of his mind, he could hear pleads of help, but decided to ignore them. As he walked down the hill, he felt a stabbing pang of regret, but once again, ignored it and concentrated on the task at hand.
Not long after, he found himself in front of a crimson lake. Floating on the pure red water was a small square package wrapped in dull yellow paper. The man reached for it, opened the package and peered curiously inside. There was a black box. The man immediately felt excited. This was one of those artefacts that helped you get to the next step in life. With his mind, he gave commands. The sensors obeyed.