A World Together

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Stella P.O.V

Even in the dark I can see things that I shouldn't. Shadow people running at me. Walls melting into puddles at my feet. Stuttered movements in the corner of my eye. I begin to think that I'm safer in the light but when I turn around everything is different. The room I was in has disappeared. Where I expected to find willowy streams of candlelight I find only another dark hallway. How long have I been walking? Have I been walking? I don't remember walking. Again I find my thoughts running away from me and it takes a high degree of concentration to wrangle them back in.

I don't know where I am. The thought slices through me with the sharpness of a blade and I find myself wishing that I had let my thoughts run away rather than trying to grapple with them. My chest tightens and it becomes difficult to breathe, a familiar sensation. This has happened before but I don't remember it. All I know is that I have to calm myself down. Simple commands, I tell myself. Stop walking. I stop and rest my head against the wall. I'm not sure if I'm trembling or if it's the world around me that's shaking, either way I feel like I'm going to be sick.

Now breathe, slowly. It takes a few minutes, but eventually I manage to calm myself down enough to think somewhat coherently. Whatever drug he forced me to take, it's strong, there's no doubt in my mind about that. He may as well have given me a one-way ticket to hell. No, not hell, I think. Living in a world that's inhabited by the dead is already equivalent to being in hell. This is one of its sub-levels.

A silhouette at the end of the hall catches my attention. A figure stands stock still, noticeable only because it's the darkest shade of black compared to the rest of the corridor, that it stands out like a star in the night. There's no way to tell if it's looking at me, but I feel as if it is. I don't have to wonder for long before it throws itself into a sprint towards me. It runs soundlessly. I want to run too but I hug the wall instead and let out a shriek when it reaches me. And just like that it's gone.

It's not real. None of this is real. None of it. But thinking this is no help when it feels real. I just need to get out of here, out of the dark. Then I'll be safe. If I hug the wall and keep walking, it'll have to lead me out of here eventually. It'll have to, because if it doesn't I'm afraid that I'll be trapped in this maze forever. Maybe following the wall is what I've been doing all along, and I just don't remember. That would explain why I can't find the room I came from – the room where everyone was wrestling and the world was falling apart.

Hug the wall. Walk. Hug the wall. Walk. Over and over I repeat this so that I'm sure I won't forget. Another figure appears and only when I scream at the sight of it does it curl back into the corner from where it came. My hands are trembling uncontrollably but they never leave the wall. I keep walking for what seems like hours and nothing looks any different. I begin to think that this was a wasted effort when I feel it. Something soft under my hand.

It's the wall. The wall is soft. I push my hand against it and notice light leaking out of its edges. Light! I've found light! But something's blocking it. It's not sturdy like a door, and even though it's soft it's too thick for me to get a grip on. Then I remember coming down here the first time and seeing a rug strung up against a window. Is this the same rug?

Another figure steps up beside me and I'm so startled that I jump back, tearing the rug away with me. Sunlight floods in, blinding, and washes the figure away. I revel in the light, so bright that it's taken away my vision and I find myself stumbling back from its glare. Blindness is a gift, and I embrace it willingly, cradled in its safety. But it doesn't last long. The horrors are quick to follow me wherever I go and I find things materializing on the insides of my eyelids.