Swallowed By The Blessed, Awful Darkness

I awoke in utter darkness. The fear gripped me first, and my muscles snapped taut. I wanted to cry, but no tears came. I heard a low moan, and realised it was coming from my throat. I detected more than fear in it—despair maybe, something horrible. The sound reverberated off walls I could not see, echoing all around. I must be in some room, I thought. Only then did I realise this was only the most recent of awakenings in the gloom. The darkness was my prison, and as yet I had not been able to find a way out. 

I felt along my body. I didn’t have any clothes on. I was naked in the dark. I felt around for something, anything. My fingers touched something hard. It was long and sturdy. I slid my fingers along its length, found some protrusion. I pushed it. A light came on. In my hand was a flashlight. I stood up and looked around, moving the beam in all directions. I was in some kind of cave. At first it seemed like it was completely silent, but then I noticed the low, eerie hum in the distance. I swallowed, and it sounded very loud to me. There was only me, and nothingness. The flashlight flickered and died. I slapped it, and it turned back on. There was only me and malfunctioning equipment to help me get out of here, I corrected.

I took a few hesitant steps. The rocky floor felt uncomfortable to my naked feet. It was chilly as well, and I hugged myself with my one free arm, stretching out the other, holding the flashlight, trying to find some direction in which to move. I needed to find some way out of this awful place. My one hugging arm didn’t help much, but I rubbed my side in an attempt to warm myself. Or console myself, maybe, I admitted. The fear had diminished since waking up, but didn’t quite leave me. And I could still recall the sense of terror that overwhelmed me when I had first regained consciousness, as if I was still experiencing it at that moment.

The cave branched off in three directions. The dark corridors all looked the same, so I guessed it didn’t matter much which one I chose. I moved off in one direction, rubbing my side and hoping it would lead to some kind of exit. I wondered how long I had been here.

As I walked more memories came back to me, but they were blurry and indistinct. I had been in here for quite some time, I felt. For how long, exactly, I could not say. Most of the memories were of darkness and despair. I shuddered even thinking about them, and tried to focus on the here and now. But the here and now was scary and cold, and I found no comfort in it.

The seemingly endless hallways branched off a couple more times, and any direction seemed as good or bad a choice as the other. Every now and again the flashlight flickered, and slapping it turned it back on. I felt a continuous fear that it would die completely and I would be lost forever.

Then, after a while, I noticed a faint light in the distance. I felt a tiny flame of hope come into existence. It felt good. I walked faster, and hurt my foot against some stone. I limped toward the light, the flame in my heart starting to burn brighter. Was this it? Was this my way out?

As I neared the illuminated area the whole thing appeared more and more surreal to me. Even from a distance I spotted the glass wall, set firmly into the stone to all sides of it. I ran to it despite the pain, desperate for any kind of relief from my plight. Please, let this be it! I begged.

As I stepped in view of the glass wall, which was the only thing to call it, really, I noticed the people behind it. Three by five metres it was, and on the other side the people seemed familiar somehow. I could see their faces, and as they recognised me they approached the glass, some of them smiling, others looking at me sadly. The sad ones seemed half dead to me, and the others full of life from some unknown source. The familiarity of their faces haunted me as I stood there, but I couldn’t decide who they were and why they were here. It seemed like minutes had passed as I gazed upon them, trying to decide on their identities, but I realised it had been only a few seconds.

Some of the smiling figures beckoned to me to step into the light. They seemed to radiate positivity, and I wanted some of it. I placed my hand against the glass wall, and pushed it, trying to discover how sturdy it was. The smiling figures continued to encourage me, and the others just stood there silently, unmoving, staring at me sadly, and some trying to smile, but their sadness permeated their every attempt, and I recognised instantly that their efforts were in vain.

Only then did I notice the crowd in the distance, but none had faces. Some were trying to see over the shoulders of the people nearest the glass, others were pointing, and many were walking by uncaringly. Then I noticed a group that was pointing at me and laughing, and suddenly I was painfully aware of my nakedness, and I covered up my genitals with my free hand. I bashed the glass wall with the butt of the flashlight, but the panel barely even shuddered. The smiling people continued to beckon to me, and I hammered the wall furiously, even forgetting my shame for a moment, and I bashed at the glass with fist and flashlight. I didn’t even make a dent. With every second that passed I started to dislike the smiling people more.

Then some of the smiling people started to turn away, only showing me a sad smile over their shoulders as they disappeared from view. All of the sad ones remained, and one or two appeared to be crying, but tried to hide it. In the distance the faceless people kept staring and laughing. I screamed and bashed at the screen with all my might. It didn’t work, and suddenly all hope left me. I had never felt this helpless in my life. Once again excruciatingly aware of my nakedness, and my powerlessness, I covered myself and backed away. There were still some people right behind the glass, and in their eyes I saw they cared, but none of them could help me. They seemed to know it, too. 

The empty stone corridor beckoned. There, at least, I was alone with myself, without the futile, tormenting hope, without mockery, without shame. No, not without shame. It lingered bitterly, I noticed as I walked away from the light. As it had every time—the realisation came to me as the tears came.

Moaning softly, feeling as terrible as I had ever felt, unable to imagine anything at all feeling more awful, I noted that my flashlight had gone out again. I slapped it, and it flickered, and then showed me the way once more. Or did it? It showed me a path, a dark path, seemingly without a destination. I still didn’t have an inkling which way to go, but at least I could see right in front of me, and I convinced myself I was not totally lost.

For hours nothing like the glass wall, or any other sign of life appeared. There was only the low, eerie hum in the distance, taunting me, and the occasional drip of water. I realised how thirsty I was, but I could not find the water. The dripping sound was only another thing that tortured me, a constant reminder that what I was looking for was out there, but it remained out of my reach.

After slapping the flashlight a dozen more times, long after I had lost any sense of time, my feet blistered and painful, every step hurting, I stopped and capitulated. To what, I didn’t know. The only thing I knew was that I couldn’t go on anymore. I fell to my knees, and I didn’t even realise that I scraped them. Small hurts were utterly inconsequential when despair overwhelmed every other sensation. I collapsed onto my side, and as the flashlight flickered and died I imagined it was my soul.

I awoke in utter darkness. I inhaled sharply, and heard fear in the sound. I hurt everywhere, and the fear that gripped me was so intense that my only wish was to lose consciousness again. I curled up and felt something touch my knee. I grabbed it. It was a flashlight. I turned it on. I was naked, and my knees were red with blood. Only then did I remember the living nightmare that some cruel god had placed me in. With a sob I got to my feet, and it was painful. The flashlight flickered and died, and I was alone in the darkness that was my prison. Through the agony I recalled dimly that I had been in this situation before, that I had been struggling to find a way out. What else was there to do but to try once more?

The cave branched off in numerous directions; the maze was complete. I had no idea where I had been, or where I was going, or what anything meant, or even who I was. With only the one failing light to guide me, I strode forward, grunting with each painful step.

Every single stride made my quest seem more useless. My purpose seemed unclear, the pain the only thing that existed. What was I doing, and why did I care? What else was there but this eternal darkness, and this pain inside and out? I took another step, and another, and my bleeding feet plagued me. Then the flashlight would falter again, and it would plunge me in total darkness once more.

Maybe the darkness could be a good thing, I thought through the haze of agony. It was the only constant, the only thing I knew well. The darkness . . . it could be my friend. Yes . . . my friend. Something I could count on—the eternal darkness. I tossed away the flashlight wildly. I heard it smash against a wall. It had never done me much good anyway, I reminded myself. I strode on, feeling the walls to guide myself onward towards . . . something.

I felt a little stronger somehow, embracing the darkness and my fate. I took more steps, until the pain in my feet seemed distant, until nothing seemed to matter anymore. I think I slept a few times more, but it all seemed to blend into one continuous struggle.

It was totally, completely unexpected when more light found my eyes. I had not been able to remember what it looked like until I saw it again. I squinted and edged closer, my ripped feet only just responding to my weak commands. Then I remembered the people behind the glass wall, and I felt a terrible fear take away my breath. I could not do it again; I could not give in to this hope again, to this ultimate cheat. I clenched my jaw and crept closer, nothing but my curiosity powering my every movement.

As I neared the light, my foot suddenly dropped away into nothingness. I shrieked and pulled it up, falling down, breathing hard. I peered into the darkness below. It appeared there was only a narrow walkway to traverse. It led right into the light. I had to chance it. Despite myself, I felt the flame of hope rekindle. I closed my eyes and tried to extinguish the fire, but as I did so, the light beckoned through my eyelids, and I opened them with an overwhelming sense of longing.

Before I knew it I was up and moving again, my broken body steadily but surely closing in on the light. I had to be careful not to slip down. The going was hard, but the light became brighter and brighter. Yes. I was going to make it. Finally, I was going to make it.

The light stung my eyes, it was so bright. Or maybe my eyes had become so used to nothing but darkness that it only appeared to be so. I lingered a moment to let my eyes adjust. When they did I saw no people in the light, as before, fortunately, but an exit into a glorious valley, and as the beauty of the scene dazzled me and lifted me up I took the final step and reached out toward the blessed light, and freedom.

My hand touched a glass panel, and through the mask of agony I choked. My hands trembled like never before, utter disbelief their only master. I was dimly aware of them hitting the damnable glass, which only remained there, whole and impassive and uncaring.

“Nooooo!!!” It was the first word I had uttered in what seemed like ages, and in it was all of my fear and anger and despair. My forehead smashed into the wall, and I reeled back from the impact. A primal cry escaped my throat, and I felt like hatred, like vengeance itself. My fists pounded the glass, and my forehead hit it with sufficient force to split the skin. “Raaaagh!” I pounded and bashed, completely losing my mind and all control. I tasted blood, and spat it out. The glass panel shuddered under the impacts, but did not break. Panting, I looked to see what damage I had done, my hard breathing the only sound invading my ears. The glass wall was red with blood. It didn’t show a dent.

The anger suddenly left me and swiftly made room for utter hopelessness. I looked down to the blood red floor, and the narrow walkway I was standing on. For the first time, in the light so innocently shining through the glass, I noticed the spikes in the pits below, on either side. They looked menacing and deadly. My vision blurred and I blinked away blood. My life’s fluid was leaking from my broken forehead, forming little rivers along my cheeks and nose. I gazed at the valley, taunting me from behind the impenetrable wall. I had never before realised how horrible paradise could look. 

I looked down at my knuckles. I could see the bone. I felt dead. I felt deader than the dead. It must be a blessing to be actually dead, I thought.

I shifted my gaze to the spikes below. They whispered to me, and, my breath quickening, and hot, salty tears welling up sooner than I could have anticipated, I knew beyond a doubt that there was only one option left. With a sob I closed my eyes and gave up. Surrender felt good. Nothing had ever felt so good. There is infinite pain in the struggle, I thought, as I swayed and dropped down into the nothingness that had been part of me for days beyond counting.