It is cold, and dark. My heart beats faster as the shadows shift. They move closer, creeping towards my trembling body, until I can scarcely breathe. The darkness is thick, and slow, and endless, stretching into the past, present, and future. Omnipotent. Immortal. Engulfing. Shuddering violently, I feel them–– whatever they are, latching onto my soul like vultures to a freshly dead specimen. They are parasites, living off all of us in the Chemical Room. We are trapped here, imprisoned within our own bodies; they lock us up in the only place any of us ever felt safe. Our bodies are no longer our own. Our minds are going, too, as the black velvet evil multiplies within us. The weak go quickly. Their feeble spirits last no longer than a few days in this madness. The void is merciless and indomitable. Creatures capable of evil beyond what the human mind can ponder reside here. They feed off our souls and dissolve us from the inside out, piece by agonizing piece. I do not know what it is to feel, not anymore. Nor do I know what happens when they are done. None of us do. Is every shred of us–– our memories, our mark on this earth, our presence in reality–– extinguished? Do we simply exist no longer? No, perhaps it is something more than that, what the void does to us. Perhaps we are erased from humanity and not only do we no longer exist, but we were never existent at all. Perhaps we are undone. Eradicated. I like to hope that some day, when the creatures have gotten what they wanted, when their seemingly insatiable hunger is vanquished, that I will go beyond this, with the others. I waste hours dreaming of an afterlife. Somewhere I can see the light again. Somewhere people are happy. But I know, deep down, there is no such place. Light is only a memory now. I am becoming more like them every second I suffer in this hell. I am absorbed into their mass. I can no longer find solace in my own body. I scream as the last drop of my soul light is taken. Just like all of those before me, and all whom would follow. My energy, mind, my hope–– is torn from my corporeal form. The light is gone, my body no longer, and “human” has lost meaning. I am not, nor was I ever. I am unmade. The final stage is complete. I am one of them. I am the dark.
The Chemical Room
February 15, 2013