existence within extinction

pilot

a strange banging could be heard, echoing throughout this dog's head. it repeated itself, over and over again, making her head ache and her brows furrow in frustration. but she couldn't move. the dog was paralyzed, her furry structure limp against the usually soothing cold of the tiled floor. this dogs breath quickened, the fur on her spine rising in a fear that gripped her heart with icy claws. she couldn't pull her heavy eyelids open. in fact, everything seemed heavy to the poor canine. her neck, her tail, her paws. she couldn't seem to be able to move a single part of her body as the banging grew louder, consuming her. she let out a low whine, thinking that perhaps this was what dying felt like. the dog's only hope was that death for her would be quick and painless, but this hope was only a small ember in the darkness consuming her body. her body seemed to be growing frail, trembling from her attempts to stand. her mind screamed for it to be a bad dream, but any attempts to awaken were fruitless. please, she thought, not knowing what she was pleading for or to to whom she was pleading. please. her religiousless prayers were not answered, as she'd find out later, as things only grow worse. the weight upon her seemed to only grow. and then it was all gone. everything was gone. the tile floor beneath her turned to nothing. the banging ceased. she was floating. at least, that was how it seemed. she opened her eyes to see.. nothing. there was a black emptiness, a void in which not a single other creature appeared. a void in which she was the only thing breathing. and then it was all gone. the blackness, the void, and the floating. she was pulled back, down, down into her body, down to the cold, tiled floor. down into the place she called home for so long, and had always thought she'd live comfortably in. but now, even worse than the banging, it was quiet. not a calm quiet. it was an empty, eerie kind of quiet. the kind of quiet a trembling mouse withstands, sensing the presence of a serpent and yet not seeing it. the kind of quiet that mouse would experience, thousands of thoughts and fears and pleas going through it's frail head before that serpent struck out, it's fangs petrifying the body, filling it with poison, or the snake's body twirling around the rodent in a dance of death, holding it until it suffocates. it was the loud kind of silence one experiences whilst drowning. moments before the victim is gone, as their limbs grow too weak to fight anymore and their eyes too heavy to look towards the heavens any longer. the quiet as their ears fill with water, and in a last attempt, they take a breath. but there is no air for the victim to breath as they fall deeper into the angry, murderous liquid, and their lungs fill with water, and they fall into a blackness from which they will never return. that was the kind of silence that hung over sailor, the lonesome labrador, when everything she knew was gone.

[notes]
image is, again, not mine. sorry for the shortness, it's been a while since i've written something, so it's not exactly my best work oops