Fear the Wicken – A Fidget Spinner Story

A human will not die of sleep deprivation.
The brain can be taught to respect any form of routine.
Fear the Wicken.

Three lessons I learned too late.

I spun the accursed red plastic as it slowed down.
The Wicken cursed me. My life will end when the plastic stops.
She had called it a Fidget Spinner.

She told us the three truths, to all fifty of us. And our curse began.
No one died the first two nights. But one by one, the people in the room fell asleep or dropped their Spinner.
And the moment it no longer rotated, they slumped over in their chair, dead.

It had taken twenty days for me teach my brain to take micro-naps, lasting 15 seconds.

Sleep is necessary to form long term memory.

Sleep is necessary to organize thoughts and rest mental fatigue.

With 15 seconds of micro naps, it is impossible to enter into a proper REM (Rapid Eye Movement) cycle, which is when long term memory is formed.

In other words, I was no longer capable of remembering more than 30 minutes of my life.

I could recall with vivid accuracy the rest of my life that is stored. But somewhere after becoming a prisoner in the Wicken’s torture chambers, I had lost the ability to create new memories.

My thoughts are fleeting and temporary.

Nothing I think and imagine matters. It will be lost to oblivion.

I am a prisoner.

A Human will not die of sleep deprivation.
The brain can be taught to respect any form of routine.
Fear the Wicken.

Three lessons I learned too late.

I spun the accursed red plastic as it began to slow down.

I do not know how long I have spun it.

It has been many days. By the Wicken’s spell, I have been preserved in my life without food or water. As long as I could overcome the drive to sleep and not miss the timing to spin the plastic, I will not die like the forty-nine others who had come with me.

I stared at the spinning device which trapped my life.

This plastic device is not of this world. Nothing like this could exist. It was too soft and smooth. The red color was too vivid.

It was unnatural.

It must have been summoned by the Wicken to torment us.

I have heard of tales of the Wicken’s powers. The ability to open a portal to the nether realms, the ability to converse with the dead, the ability to concoct powerful hexes and curses, the ability to create powerful potions and poisons; the Wicken has many infamous powers.

I do not know why I was brought here. I recall going to the market, and then suddenly waking up in the chair.

I am trapped. I am stuck.

I am cursed.

I cannot become free. There was one before me who tried to leave. The moment his fingers touched the door, his Spinner stopped in his hand by magical means.

There was no way out.

And so I am reminded;

A Human will not die of sleep deprivation.
The brain can be taught to respect any form of routine.
Fear the Wicken.

Three lessons I learned too late.

I am all alone. There were forty-nine others here before; now I am the only one left. I do not remember what the others looked like or when they died. But I do remember- there used to be more.

Lack of sleep removed my ability to recall, my sympathy, and finally my individuality.

I became a machine, mechanically moving in rhythm to fulfill my directive, failure in which my life would end. Becoming inert and deceased like everyone else aside from me.

Fifty strong we entered, I am the last that stands.

The Wicken had found me.

I do not know where they came from or what they want from me.

But with this little device laced with curse and death, I sit in the empty room

Spinning and spinning, endlessly, without purpose

Broken and changed I continue my existence for another spin.

I watched the endlessly spinning vortex as I watch it slow down.

Do I dare? Do I extend my life for another futile spin? Why do I continue?

Seeing the spinning red plastic toy, I was reminded

A Human will not die of sleep deprivation.
The brain can be taught to respect any form of routine.
Fear the Wicken.

Three lessons I learned too late.

 

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