"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."
Dante Alighieri, "Inferno"
I was walking, unaware of where I was going. I walked, not knowing where I had been before or where my restless legs were taking me. Furthermore, I walked, carving a path through ground darker than coal. The sky was slightly brighter. If I were a bit more discerning, I would say it was a deep, jet black.
I didn't know who I was or how I ended up here. It seemed like no one would help me find out who I was or what I had been before I arrived here. And what is this place? A crypt. Darkness. Fear.
I stepped away from the fact that my body seemed not to belong to me, and occasionally jerked from sharp electric discharges resembling fireworks.
The air was filled with a languid and mysterious scent that lingered with me. Though I tried to move through space, this scent remained exactly the same, neither fading nor intensifying. Perhaps I smelled this way myself. I don't know. Clumps of earth. Perhaps. Dust. Pines. Citrus. Resin. This mysterious blend enveloped the entire space but did not provide me with any clue as to where I was. Or how I got here. I wanted to believe that I had once had something greater than this existence in the darkness. Although it seemed like my wanderings were eternal. There was no beginning, no end for me.
I walked and walked, possibly for hours. Or maybe I walked one hour now for two. Or perhaps I had been walking here for years. I didn't feel hunger or thirst. Absolutely nothing, nothing that defined me as alive.
It seemed that only a fortunate coincidence could save me. I tried to think of anything besides eternal wandering in darkness. Absolutely nothing came to mind. Emptiness. It's terrifying not to have a past, not to have a present, and not to know what my future might be.
In my timid reflections, the future had no value if it was absolutely the same as my today. It would be much easier for me if there were any beacons in this darkness pointing me the way.
And so I decided to take a short break from my endless and sleepless wanderings. I sat on the hard ground covered with a patchy gravel. In this darkness, I couldn't even guess what color it could be. White, gray, brown, or perhaps it was exactly the same color as everything that surrounded me.
I scooped up small pebbles into my palms and began to sort through them, listening as they rhythmically knocked against each other.
As I drifted into slumber, unaware of its onset, I found myself plunged into a deep abyss of sleep. Upon awakening, I was greeted by the same impenetrable darkness that had enveloped me before. Perhaps I had not slept at all. Yet, upon regaining my senses, I distinctly recall a faint sound reaching my ears. Its nature remained an enigma, concealed from me for the time being.
In the inky blackness, I strained my eyes, searching for the source of this auditory intrusion, hoping to discern its direction. I ventured a few steps forward, then glanced around once more, only to perceive in the distance tiny flickers of light, resembling candle flames arranged in a row. My observation was confirmed as the tantalizing scent of burning wicks and melting wax wafted towards me.
The closer I drew, the brighter the illumination grew, revealing with increasing clarity the presence of candles indeed. Seven in total, they stood sentinel upon a table, its sudden appearance a baffling anomaly in this desolate realm. My weary mind, however, could not shake off a single, nagging question: what purpose did this table serve?
As I approached the table, my gaze wandered into the surrounding gloom, which, under the flickering candlelight, resembled a dense, encroaching shroud. I scrutinized the table's surface, seeking any objects beyond the candles, and there, beneath one of them, I noticed an envelope, its surface marred by the drippings of candle wax.
