I haven’t read this back to myself yet. Thought someone might enjoy it, or at the very least read it and hate it. Any type of emotional response is welcome.

———————————————————————————————————————-

Beyond.

    The lights crashed in. 

    The sounds tumbled down. 

    The mountain caved in on itself. 

    And I was left standing there mouth half propped open. 

    My mind was swimming in itself.

    I was chocking down air trying not to drown on the death that surrounded me.

    Each inhale and exhale burned. 

    It didn’t even burn bittersweet; it just burned.

    I looked down.

    It was a mistake to look down.

    My hands were gone.

    My arms were gone.

    Everything was gone.

    I looked back up and swallowed.

    The quick realization that breathing was not necessary washed over me.

    I was dead. 

    I looked down again.

    I was definitely dead.

    I swallowed again scolding myself afterwards because swallowing was not pointless.

    Shit, I was dead.

    My eyes guided themselves around the miles that stretch before them.

    Emptiness punched me in the face.

    I was dead.

    Shit.

    Shit.

    Shit.

    A lone figure, a silhouette of black on a canvas of grey, appeared in the distance.

    My eyelids pushed together forming slits in a futile attempt to see the figure.

    I caught myself breathing again.

    Stop that.

    I looked down again and my nonexistent heart skipped a beat.

    I had legs again.

    They were not mine.

    They carried me towards the silhouette of black on the canvas of grey.

    Each footstep echoed through my skull.

    The distance between us grew smaller and smaller.

    The time it took was not constant.

    And the pounding of the hooves drove me mad for a time.

    The man in my head growled at me.

    The grey emptiness surrounding me erupted.

    I saw sounds.

    Tasted colours.

    Felt images.

    Smelled the world’s fear.

    My eyes snapped open revealing the black silhouette propped up on nothingness.

    I poked my tongue out from it’s dark recess and tasted the silhouette.

    It was salty.

    It was blue.

    It was rough.

    It was full.

    Of.

    Nothing.

    It’s arm moved slow.

    Graceful.

    Towards the body that had carried me.

    It’s hand swiped the psuedo body that lay beneath me.

    I looked down and saw, again, nothing.

    The arm continued to move.

    Now, though, it flowed towards my eyes.

    I swallowed.

    I breathed in.

    I exhaled.

    There was no use fighting it for I had no weapons.

    As it pushed it’s way through the air the blackness that surrounded it thickened.

    One finger at a time the creature slid it’s fingers over my cheek.

    I was dead but I continued to pray.

    I continued to latch onto my humanity.

    My fear.

    It’s voice stabbed my ears.

    It grasped at my mind.

    It tore me apart.

    It spoke of the world

    It spoke of me.

    It spoke of Everything engulfed and consumed by Nothing.

    The end days.

    The first week.

    The Savior’s lies.

    The Devil’s tongue.

    It spoke for years.

    As it’s words lashed at me I grew stronger.

    I would look down.

    It’s words pushed my soul out of my body.

    My soul wrapped around me.

    Protected me.

    My soul embraced the words.

    Embraced the power.

    Used the power.

    And I would continue to look down and see my body.

    Each piece of my former self thrust out of the last.

    Each piece was black.

    My soul fed off of the blackness.

    The creature’s words coursed through my veins.

    My heart was the last part of me my soul returned.

    It showed it to me.

    My heart was dead.

    Black.

    And dead.

    My soul thrust my black dead heart into my chest.

    And my heart jumped.

    My vision blurred as each pump poured thousands of bugs to crawl alongside the words.

    They fed on the blackness just as my soul had.

    The silhouette of black on the canvas of grey left the same day my hear beat again.

    My soul followed him.

    I was left alone with ants and words in my veins.

    I looked to the distance my mouth still half propped open and walked.

    As I walked I would pass thousands screaming out.

    Disembodied voices and heads hoping for Nothingness without knowing it.

    I decided I would help each and every one.

    So, I beckoned them towards me.

    Each grew legs and walked towards me.

    My fingers itched as they stroked their cheeks.

    My throat burned as I bled my words onto them.

    When I was done their souls would join me.

    They would whisper to me.

    They would scratch at my face.

    They would take me away.

    They would consume me.

    I continued to walk on.

    The bugs itched at my veins.

    The grey Nothingness was my Everything.