♪♫♪♫♪♫
He tried desperately to remember how he'd gotten here, squeezing his thoughts with a tight and harsh mental grasp. It felt like his brain was about to explode but-- Nothing. The hazy gaps in his mind revealed nought to enlighten him on his predicament, and at that the looming terror and dread took hold. That sinking dread, the kind that tears at you deep in your chest, like metal hooks dragging you to some subterranean void: inescapable, all encompassing, suffocating and crushing.Hey! Sort of wrote this off the bat, so hope you like it.
Minor spook warning, so if you're scared of water ect ect there ya go.
Minor spook warning, so if you're scared of water ect ect there ya go.
The tips of his fingers tingled, as if the circulation of his blood had at a whim ceased to keep them supplied. They went numb, and up the length of his hands the same effect took place. In anguish he narrowed his gaze and pierced his running eyes through the darkness...
The wooden boards which held the wall together creaked, illumined by ever so dim moonlight which crept through the cracks with a wobbly blue hue. The room let out a low and rumbling groan, it slowly turned from side to side with an unstable yet slow shaking. He pressed a senseless hand to the drenched oaken wall to his right, glancing himself in the reflection of the puddling water beneath him... His skin was pale as death, the snow white of his flesh only broken by the grey and lingering shadows beneath his eyes. His black hair, damp and soggy obscured most of his face-- before he flicked it to one side with a jerk of his head. He looked nothing more than twenty, and the sadness in his visage shocked even himself. Why was he sad? He did not know, but forward he walked into the dreadful dark of the hold.
Forward, forward, creaking across that sinking floor. He was almost sure he was on a ship. He was on a ship, right? The water touched his knees now-- hard to move through such burdensome liquid. Every step now felt like it took the strength of ten... Onward, onward. 'You can't stop now' he thought, not when you're so close. Off in the distance a shard of glowing light peaked through the bottom of a wonky door. 'The escape' he thought; to where, he did not know...
The ship shook violently! The sound of crashing cargo screamed out from the darkness either side of him-- his eyes widened, as out of the darkness a looming shape charged towards him. The crate was hurled down upon him, knocking what air was left from his lungs charging out of his mouth, and submerging him beneath the shallow water bellow. If the darkness was overbearing before, now it was nightmarish. Everything was dark. The faint light that had guided him this far was gone... He floated, suspended in nothing, surrounded by nothing. Every movement and motion felt unnecessarily difficult. The spaceless void echoed out to him "Come... Come... It's not too late to rest your eyes." It spoke, gentle and soft in its tone, yet menacing in its resonating and ghostly sound.
He thrashed, fought, shook. The voice dissipated into ambient bubbling of the background and his head came sumiting through the surface of the water. 'Onward' he thought 'Onward', he clambered, slipped, and clambered again to his feet. "Onward" he bellowed deep from his lungs, his voice echoing with the determination of young adulthood. "Onward!"-- he pushed, his body crashing against the rising waters as he pushed towards that sacred door. Chaos loomed around him, boards burst from their place on the wall, and in replacement water shot from their missing spaces. Crates drifted afront him-- pale sailors slept in the shallow water. Men who had not made it as far as him. His eyes were alight as he reached the steps of the doorway. 'Not far. Onward.' he thought.
The steps were slippery, treacherous, a task in of themselves. His bare feet refused to touch the surface of the ground without flying backwards-- he was so, so very close. The door loomed over him, mocking him from the top of an insurmountably flight of stairs. He would have to crawl. 'CRAWL'? Yes, crawl. He clasped his hands onto the nearest step, his hand grazed by a loose nail in the dark shadow of the stairs. 'Climb. It's the only way.' he thought as hand after hand after foot after foot struggled for freedom. The water-- it was climbing too. It followed him, tickling the soles of his feet. It wrapped around his ankle, bit at the flesh of his leg. It clambered to his knees-- he felt so far away, the depths only made the struggle that much harder.
Further and further he climbed, but so did it. He felt so close that he could almost touch the rays of light. 'SPIRIT-- I can reach it! I can reach it!' he screamed from within his head, clambering out as the cold depths stroked the bottom of his chin... His eyes sunk once again beneath the icy waves-- his hand reached out. He could feel the handle, the bronze metal touch of it. He held on, twisted it with a great force and fell forwards with an elevating woosh through the glowing doorway...
Safe. Warm. Comforting. All the feelings one can expect from a home, even if they've never known one. The numbness of his hands faded, and blood rushed to the tips of his fingers in gleeful return. His skin, pink and glowing. A smile spread his lips from edge to edge-- he sat down, leaning against the door from which he'd came. No longer needing to go onward. The door might not hold the horrors of the world back forever, but rest filled him with happiness, and this was enough for now.
