The Void

tricks

Acting like you don't know what's going on is sinful here.
We all sin.
But what really gets us going is what you don't know.
All he needs to do is listen to us.

Is this what being in a coma feels like? It's horrific. You try to see and you can't, you try to breathe but you taste nothing in the air. What was it your wife always told you?

When you're scared just focus on your senses.

He couldn't smell anything.
He couldn't hear anything.
He could taste the fear building up in his throat.
If he screamed maybe he could hear it and complete his puzzle of senses.
But he couldn't scream.

He could feel the floor beneath him, similar to that of a school hallway.
It wasn't soft.
It wasn't comforting.

He remembered fur, his eyes could only see darkness. But it wasn't dark, it was ominous.

Right now what could he see? Nothing. How do you explain that in words? It's not black, it's not white, it's just not there.

He tried to pretend he could see, imagined a world full of green. Trees, grass, bushes, full of life like cats and mice running around tall intimidating buildings in a sky full of gray.

He felt like he could see it, but he really couldn't.

Gravity was flipped upside down with his body, it was like he was being pulled up to his feet, beckoned by a voice.

He didn't even realize he was down until he stood up. His emotions weren't his own, his senses belonged to him and him only. It made him mad.
Stop.
Taking.
Me.

Suddenly he could see.
There was nothing.
Not nothing like before, nothing as in all he saw was white.
It was blinding.
Nobody could like the lifeless feel that surrounded him in this void of literal nothing.

His senses.
He thought he knew them, he never realized how much scent carried him until it was gone, instead, there was something new.

Some sixth sense telling him someone was there watching him, trying to take him, or at the very least tell him to move forward.
But when he looked ahead there was nothing there.

He wanted to turn around and run, go back to the couch with his...
He couldn't remember what the couch had,
Only that it was important.

It didn't matter anyways though, this sixth sense kept him from turning around and denying it. So he took a step forward. The ground, was it even real? He felt like he could fall at any moment, that there wasn't even a ground to begin with.

Be calm. Like she always told you.
Who was she again?

That doesn't matter anymore. He started walking. Each step was agonizing to his soul. He wanted to walk but it was so hard. Why was it? It never usually is. He dragged his feet as he walked, it's a surprise he managed to go on and not fall over.

He saw something.
He saw someone.

Suddenly the laziness of his legs had drifted off. It was like he got unchained from a thousand pounds and he felt new again.

He began to run, really fast.
He didn't even know he could run so fast.

The thing he saw grew closer and he could make out the details. It was the gray figure of a man, standing there, staring at him.

Was that suspicious or even scary?
Not at all!
The sixth sense told him that.

The man stood still in a comfortable position not even moving, he just watched him approach.

He got to him. Only for him to realize that this man, wasn't a man. It was a mannequin. It had no eyes, no nose, no mouth, no clothes, nothing.
Yet it stared at him pitifully.

He didn't know what to do now. The weight of fear came back to him.

"It's okay" whispered his new sense, "Just keep moving." He didn't want to. He wanted to fall over by this mannequin and die.
The sense filled him with fury, he hated it.
Nothing can control him. So stop trying.

The mannequin suddenly ripped apart, creating a mouth where one should have been. It was so jarring that he fell over in response and froze like a deer.

Its arms raised over its head, fingers forming claws almost. Its new mouth created rigid edges that looked like a monster's piercing sharp teeth.
The mannequin took only a single step toward him and whispered out, "Don't turn back..." it immediately shut its mouth after. He finally heard something, and he hated it.

Just as quickly as it happened the mannequin lowered its arms and the mouth healed itself back together.
It soon reverted to its chill stance, waiting to trick the next person to come along.

He couldn't piece together what just happened or how to feel about it. The mannequin— no! The demon almost looked like it was going to eat him only to speak one line. It wasn't scary, it wasn't comfortable, it wasn't even uneasy, he couldn't think, only remember.

It was too much. His new sense was quiet, he felt alone. He still had too much will to cry, but anything could push him over the edge now.

He couldn't stand up, he couldn't do anything but be mad again. It didn't even feel like his own anger that controlled him.

He forgot so much already, he had no sense of time. All he could do was force himself to stop.
Fall unconscious.
Give in to the sense even,
He wanted it to come back now.

That was his test.

Now he grew tired, he shifted into a more comfortable position and succumbed to it. But not before seeing a pair of boots walking towards him.