Blackness descends, the light is blotted from my eyes, and I have no hope of seeing the dawn.
I crawl foreward, much as a child would. I cast about me wildly with my hands, nose testing the air,
in the futile hope that I will find a light to guide me. I know that it will not happen, but I still
allow myself to hope. Blood runs from ny fingertips as they are worn by the rough stone underneath me,
and still the darkness surrounds me, fills me with the musty feel of the grave.
I lie still, hoping that it will all end, and nothing happens. The sound of my breathing is all I hear,
echoed loudly in my ears. I imagine the salvering beasts, lurking in the dark, waiting only for my wary eyes
to close, my tense body to relax. I am food to them, and I desperately want to avoid that fate. I believe
that there is something more in store for me, but I cannot identify it.
The fear gnawing at my heart grows hourly, until I am virtually paralyzed by indecision. I grope my way
foreward, never quite reaching the wall. Standing, walking, these are long forgotten skills. There is only
the now, the current, the knowledge of crawling, of moving one more inch. It seems as if I have been here
for lifetimes. I try to cope with the situation, but my grasp on sanity slips further from me second by
second, until I am a gibbering madman, crawling about a dark floor crying for incoherently for solace.
Yet, in my madness, I find a strange sort of peace. My mind has ceased functioning, and there is only
the now. I have neither past nor future, and many of the things that worried me are gone, vanished into
some never-neverland that I cannot visit. With so much of my mind clear, I can be assured that no matter
what happens to me, I can accept it, and go on. I know that I will forget, and my life will return to its
dreary course with little help from me.
I find myself fighting that return. Better to cast about here than to plod on, day after endless day,
hoping only for a bit of excitement to add some spice to my life. After all, the darkness has become a
friend. I can live with the darkness, now.
Sanity slowly returns as I notice that the darkness is not absolute, that my eyes can now make out
indistinct shapes in the gloom. I no longer fear the beasts that surround me, and I see them for what
they truly are. I stop crawling, and climb to my feet. I climb the sky, and achieve a vantage point I
had long forgotten. I look around, and see the shapes closing in. The blackness lightens, and the shapes
become clearer.
I have finally achieved that peace which I sought, and find it inadequate. As the shapes close about
me, I weigh my options. My time has run out. As the sun rises, I embrace the beasts and allow the end to
come.