Now everything was silent. Nothing moved, no light was spotted, nor was any sound. Silence was comfort, it was the sole protector of his mind, the only safety belt against the unavoidable horror of resonance.
Now he could feel himself, for there was nothing else. He could feel the pounding of his heart on his ribcage - oh, how thunderous and overwhelmingly powerful - he could hear the sound of his blood flowing like an endless stream in the millions and billions of capillaries, arteries, veins... Oh, how it seemed like the tumultuous roar of a fall coming from infinite rivers far away - he could even sense the inner storm of his lungs as they pushed air in and out.
He wanted nothing around, he was sure he would scream in disgust if he sensed the existence of any creature nearby. He could not live with the idea of such a thing but the worst thing was that he could do nothing to prevent this but submit himself to the position, for he knew the result. He had known it for a long time, lived it many times before, unable to object to the agonising truth he knew as resonance.
It would start with the faintest impulse from outside. With horror he would start oscillating, trying to hold onto something tangible, something of real existence - though he knew he hated anything existing other than himself - but always finding himself resonating, travelling through infinite spaces and times, feeling his body being crushed to pieces, rejoined, spewed by the unknown forces around him and swallowed by still more powerful others. It had happened so many times that he had forgotten the number, but never forgotten the horror, the agony, the torture done to him.
Now - in the darkness, the faintest strip of light appeared. "Oh, noooo!!" He screamed but found out that it was a silent shout that echoed inside his mind. The strip widened, he could feel his atoms vibrating even now. And there were voices. He started to feel the suffocating pain in his lungs and lost contact with his body - a thing which existed before - although he couldn't see it.
He once again resonated through infinite spaces and times screaming and shouting his mind out, but always falling, vibrating, never stopping until the imaginary frictional forces of innumerable spaces slowed his voyage in torture. He flew, he dived, he was splintered, he was rejoined, he was skinned alive, torn to pieces, rebuilt, burnt...
The child ran to his mother. "Mamaaaaa! Mamaaaa! There was a man! There was a man in the cellar! But he vanished!"
The mother smiled to herself. "Yes, I know, son. There are always men in cellars." She took his hand and walked away.
