Mirage

That bottle in the desert may house something worse than a genie. Be careful what you wish for.Rumors say Atlanteans live in the sandstorm.I didn't believe that. At least, not before I got here. But, as I stand here now, in this impossible village, in the middle of an eternal sandstorm, and stare up at a clear sky and hanging gardens, I no longer know what to believe. A fog has enshrouded my mind. Hidden my memories. I don't even know the names of the troops in my unit. Or how I got here.I know nothing of the visions that will come. That my reality will crumble into illusion. That I'll lose my connection to time and the outside world, and instead feel the Earth's primordial rhythm and the flow of an underground spring. That I'll see myself in the Underworld walking the banks of the River Styx.That I must link bottles of white mist to an uncrossable borderline of salt and iron and the village's nightly rituals of naked flesh and neon body paint. That dark fortresses unseen by day shall loom over the horizon, alight with gunfire and death. That I'll witness the rising of those who dwell in the ruins and question everything.I already wish I knew if I was asleep or dead. How will I know if any of this is real? I don't know it now, but I'll soon learn that dividing fact from fiction is nigh impossible when Greek and Arabic mythology join forces. That Plato's story of a lost city might have a grain of truth to it.Fiction: Dark Fantasy / Supernatural Suspense / HorrorOlder Teen+ Readers: MV

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