Hemones Nightmare

"So Quathridith, you hold something which I should want, what is this?" The interrogator stared at the alien, the creature, vaguely humanoid in appearance, sat motionless. It turned its eyes towards her and spoke.

"Yes, would you suffer me to speak human?" Quathridith spoke to the interrogator, her name was Hamone, and she smiled, gloating at the position of power that she held above this being.

"Tell me then, what do you possess, what should I know, what information do I need to know?" Hamone was almost angry that the alien had not started to talk yet. She was just about to ask again when Quathridith answered her, his tone flat, but full of feeling.

"What I say you will refuse to understand human, but never the less, I will tell you. Inside us all resides the pure thought of before. The start of the end of our last beginning. It is a shame that we cannot grasp such an impossible memory, if we could then, when the question of, "What have I done wrong?" cropped up, we would have the answer."

Hamone looked blankly at the alien, her face hiding obvious annoyance, the alien, she was certain, was thinking that she was stupid. She moved her hand towards the small bladed knife but was stopped as the alien started to talk again.

"Within us is a memory, one which you too could hold, had you died before you were dead, but you haven't gone yet, so I will no longer trouble you with riddles without answers."

Hamone once more lost her patience, the aliens cryptic ranting now starting to make no sense, she was not renowned for patience, or succeeding at having living victims after an interrogation. "What is your point, what are you trying to say? Just get to the point? What? What? What!"

Quathridith spoke, this time his voice had a slight edge of anger to it, much like someone had trod on his feet.

"The memory which I speak of is that of the pre-death. The supposed final thought, that final word, before death. It is that which we hold onto throughout our death, our rebirth, this knowledge having given us a like to the human race, the ability to force the soul of a newborn out, to relive our lives again, our memories intact, as we had remembered that which is denied to the majority of the worlds sentient population, we are lucky indeed."

"So, how can I be sure you are honest alien, are we not enemies?" Hamone said this with a quizzical air about her, almost as if she was being drawn into the idea.

Quathridith continued.

"However, it is my gift which I give to you which I will show to you, that which I speak of, that memory which you now should crave to remember, you should, you must!"

"Your starting to sound truthful alien, maybe I'm being deceived by your lies, now tell me what you mean or let me carry out your sentence, I'm getting bored." Hamone stood, hands on hips, staring at the form of the defiant Quathridith, his eyes set on the floor for that moment, then he once more continued, Hamone stood and once more listened.