I feel... nothing...

.

.

...wait. Feel? Even though I lack feeling, I'm still thinking. Cogito, ergo sum, or something like that. I don't exactly think that I am dead, because I've died before and I didn't really think or observe the passage of time before they brought me back. I really have to thank Jones for resuscitating me at that time, I'm surprised he was able to bring me back after 30 minutes of being drowned. But, this didn't feel like that at all. I don't have a screaming headache either, which is what the last case of bullet-head-itis brought, though admittedly that was a shot to the helmet, not the actual brain. So where does this lead me?

I'll have to revise the theory of not being dead, since being drowned may not exactly equate to dying in the truest sense. I may also just be in a coma, though this seems to be incredibly optimistic in this circumstance, given that I essential observed the entire lead up to my skull becoming a bowl for a brain scramble. The bullet was going pretty slow by my estimation, so it wouldn't have just slipped through without causing a lot of trauma. It probably rattled around in there for a bit, so I doubt it would be possible to just put me into a coma. And even if it did, it would have destroyed most of the gray matter responsible for my ability to think in the manner that I am now, so I'm ruling out a coma.

In all, after going through what I remember and putting all of the pieces in place, I find it unlikely that I made it out of there alive. If you want to put it another way, I am now certain that I died. With that being the conclusion, what does that say about right now? Maybe this is what purgatory is like, not being able to feel anything. Well at least I'm not hungry or anything, though it looks like I won't be able to get some sleep ei-

Noise erupts into my mind. I can't quite make out what the noise is, it feels like a mixture of every language and sound I've ever heard, all at once, but unlike all of them at the same time. Like a rock slide falling into a burning pit of oil while infected swine are tossed in for disease control. Like a pipe being thrown into an open mine shaft, plummeting to the bottom while scraping every note imaginable from every instrument ever invented and more. Like Death Grips and Slipknot teaming up with an A Capella group to do every rendition of every anime song that Corvo and I used to poorly karaoke in the day, all at once. It sounded like all of these and more while sounding nothing like any of them. 

Once again, my mind is infiltrated by obtrusive and oppressive noise. Though slightly quieter than before, I was unable to separate out any of the individual sounds or make any sense of any of them. There appears to be a beginning and an end to the event, so maybe this is some form or torment? It's not particularly unpleasant to hear, though it's also not in the realm of pleasant either.

This time the noise is quieter still, sounding less like sumo wrestlers on top of screaming ducks and more like an attempt at communication.

This time definitely presented itself as a language. There were tonal changes, highs and lows in the volume, and definite features that were repeated in the noise.

The noise is now not nearly as loud, and resembles a proper language, though it is still... off. I could probably begin to decrypt it if I was given the time and more examples.

"Have I been able to match this to a form you can understand now?"

The noise made itself clear, Though it still sounded like a mix of English, Russian, Japanese, Chinese, Arabic, and a few others, it was still roughly understandable.

"It is good that you understand so quickly. Many of the others have been unable to process what I say until I do much more interpretation."

Definitely understandable. I try to talk back to it, but I find that it is hard to do that without a mouth. Or, rather, I find that I don't have anything. No arms, legs, eyes, ears, nose, nothing. No sensory organs, nothing. The only thing I have is the noise. It would be a shame to go back to sensory deprivation if the noise ceases, so I try my utmost to speak, but can't find a way to do so.

"You don't have to be too concerned with trivial matters such as that. You have no need to vibrate the air in an attempt to communicate with me. I can understand the intent right from your thoughts, jumbled as they may be. Additionally, it is very astute of you to notice your lack of corporeal form so quickly. Not only that, you appear to have completely come to terms with it, truly rare within such a short time span. You were a worthwhile catch after all"

While I still can't fully understand what is occurring right now, the noise, no, voice seems to be pleased for the moment, given by the change in intonation near the end. It seemed to be appraising me, and the concept of something being "rare" and "a worthwhile catch" were something to take note of. This likely means that I have some utility to it, or otherwise have some value.

"Truly splendid. This has been the easiest time I have had with a mortal in eons. Yes, you have value for me, and even utility. I would enjoy keeping you in my collection, but I will use you for other things."

I wonder if the voice belongs to God. It seems that I am to be used. I'm not sure what I'll be doing, or how I'll be doing it, but it seems that at least I won't be returned to sensory deprivation anytime soon. I wonder what I'll be used for.

"While I may not be God in the sense that you may have understanding of, it is fine to think of me in a similar fashion, so long as you do so with respect. As for how I'll use you, well, I like to throw stones into other people's ponds. It is always amusing to see what kind of ripples they make. Depending on the width, depth, how many weeds, is it water or mercury, and all sorts of other differences, the ponds are all unique. It is also fair to say that all of the stones are also all unique. Some are round, some are sharp, some are shiny, and some are truly different. The same can also be said for the ripples produces, as they are never the same twice. I find true joy in observing these ripples, and that should allow you to comprehend your usage from this point."

I see. If I read between the lines here, it seems that I will be sent somewhere for the voice's amusement. If I extrapolate further, it seems that I am not expected to act a certain way, and can do roughly as I please. I hope that I am able to live up to its expectations.

"I would not worry, little stone, you have already exceeded my expectations. In fact, you have exceeded the standards for my collection by leaps and bounds, and while it may be a shame to throw you, it seems like it will be very interesting to do such. While I am in such a good mood, I will take you and carve out some things for you."

Carve out, huh? Is that going to hurt? I would like a small amount of warning if that is the case. What do you mean by "carve"?

"You see, little stone, you are a little bit, how to say it, "bulky" as you are now. A bit too noticeable at the moment. If I throw you now it will be very difficult for you to fit through the doorways as you are now, so I will streamline you a bit. You have accumulated a bit too much, err, how to put it in mortal words, "potential". You have reaped a large amount of "potential" while in your previous life, which will allow me to make some interesting features onto you in the streamlining process. So, little stone, how would you like to be streamlined?"

It is nice that I am able to choose. If given the choice, I would like to b-

"Sadly I will make the decisions for you. I have already taken you proclivities into account, but I will decide how I mark and notch my stones, otherwise they wouldn't be mine."

A sudden crushing, tearing, pulling feeling assaults me. While there is no real pain, there is a large amount of discomfort. The largest of all of the feelings is that of compression, like I am being forced into a box two times too small for me. After a short moment the feeling lifts, though I now feel slightly... altered.

"Perfect. You are now the most unique stone I have ever had the pleasure of carving. Well, at least within this cycle of memory, not quite sure about the last eon to be honest. I will find a suitable pond in which to throw you. Ah, here's one, with this at least I won't be bored for a while."

I feel a sudden lurching feeling. It feels like I am being simultaneously thrown by a steam catapult on an aircraft carrier while disintegrating like a sand castle in the waves, though I have no body with which to feel either of those. 

"Go now, little gem. Show me what kind of ripples you will make."