the Void

Alive

He slowly walked into a room, his face covered by his hood. Blood carrying adrenaline through his body, making everything tingle and tickle like a feather under your feet.
Thin lips, pulled into a grin, leak the black shadows across the face, while the teeth try to suppress the tempting sensation to giggle. His fingers cramped around the handle of the knife. Just a few more steps until-

Something clicked and he flinched from the burning light that hit his eyes, his pupils got smaller and he quickly turned his head away. When the pain finally stopped he blinked, seeing two white panted legs right in front of him. His ice blue eyes twitched, looking into the eyes of the other person in front of him. It was a man. He had a black stubble beard and small scratches in his face. His eyes wandered through the room, everything was white, it hurt his eyes. Only now he started to slowly feel his hands, they were cold, his feet were too. Slowly his head began to throb and in the next second he felt a stinging pain crawl up his neck right into his brain. The blue eyes closed again and a small violated whimper came from his throat. Limbs arching and tensing in pain, the thin fingers getting a tight grip of the messy hair and as he bend over to try and escape the torturing pain, something was rustling. His focus immediately shifted onto the metallic sound, but couldn't identify what was causing the shattering rustling sound. Lifting his head to concentrate on it the rustling stopped and the pain was gone with it. Everything was blurry. No man in sight. In a slow movement he checked his back pockets. Nothing. Except for the white, flat fabric. It was cold, now he felt it. Not only his hands were cold but also the whole room. A shiver came down his spine. It got colder with every second and his body cramped from the cold air that made his throat sting. Slowly his legs moved and lifted the weight of his body up. One more time the eyes wandered downwards to escape the bright light, catching a glimpse of his own thin hands. They were pale, almost like the walls. The long, thin fingers moved. Up and down, wrinkles forming as he bend the joints slowly to a grip. A grin flashing the thin lips for a second. Though it was erased by another hint of upcoming pain, which forced him to release and drop the hand after watching it a bit. He raised his eyes again at his surroundings. Hesitatingly one foot was sat forward before the right one followed. There it was again. The rustling. A pull on his waist was holding him back from moving further forward and further inspecting the noise. He turned his head towards his left there was a window and a door to his right. The window hadn't been there before, or at least it had stayed unnoticed until now. As he changed directions and walked towards it the torturing light got brighter. Noises came from outside. Small. Almost not hearable noises. What was that sound? Voices. But, he couldn't understand what they were saying. The breathing that had been so easy before got heavier, a finger twitched and he quickly turned around to face the other way. Rustling. Something black disappeared in the corner of his eye.
The cold air stopped hitting the back if his throat, his eyes flickering from wall to wall and back. Everything still white.
Pulsating filled fingers and legs, as well as heavy beating did with the inside of his chest. His hand moved and found a rest on top of his heart. He could feel it pounding against his his palm. Over and over again. It was fast. He was alive. A step towards the door was possible and a second, even a third but the door had the same height as before. He reached out his hand but could not touch it. A fourth and a fifth step. The door still too far to reach. One more step was taken. Rustling. Pulling on his waist. Stop.