Never before in my life had I been so utterly consumed in darkness like this. Sure, lights would go out, or night would come, but this deafening darkness was different. It was as if I was formless within it all, sequestered in the baseless superiority of sound nothingness. I could feel the death of dreams – hear their everlasting cries and pleas as they were devoured relentlessly to aid in the birth of the horrors escaping my dying brain. They were beautiful. God, they were so beautiful that it was painful even to witness their resurrection.
The ebony surroundings were like poison; I could feel its tendrils worm in to my pores and grip the singular, shining piece of hope that I had managed to retain within my decaying heart. He had done this. He had damned me to a place where he knew I could never survive, a place that solely reminded me of the one He had stolen me from originally. That sick bastard knew just how to dig and twist into the likewise abyss that occupied my chest.
My screams aided the blackness, producing puffy clouds of shade filled with the agony of abandonment that burned in the depths of my small intestines. I could feel wet heat drip down my face, collecting underneath my chin before dripping down my neck and the slight raise of my chest. I screamed louder in to the silence, desperate for the warmth of that disgusting liquid. The freeze of the darkness was overwhelming. It groped and clenched my lungs; its nails scraped the soft inner lining of my shrieking esophagus. It was like I could feel the something taking shape in the tenderness of my womb and clawing its way into my limbs and organs. My cries were unending, shattering the silence with humanity, something that purgatory was lacking horridly. No other actions seemed appropriate. I just wanted something, anything to hear me.
My screams stopped suddenly, the hot liquid filling my throat and mouth to a point in where I began to choke. No longer could I let out any noise but struggling sobs and coughs, the syrupy lava sputtering, splattering from my muzzle. I couldn’t have begged harder for it to stop. The metallic, salty mixture scraping my taste buds numb and useless. Static filled my eyesight, finally coloring the deadly black with flecks of grey and white. I choked out a noise of joy. I could see! Oh God, I could finally see! The shreds of my heart flew, my sight able to formulate the scene before me. I paused once my eyes adjusted.
It was mortifying, what I saw. Fingers wriggled playfully in front of my eyes, a hand moving to try and wave the best it possibly could from what seemed to be an unnatural position. My throat clenched, attempting to let out a scream. My muscles rapidly contracted and disbanded. I sputtered and gagged, gasping for air through my clogged airway. I had to regain my composure before I could realize the real reason that I could no longer speak… Sprouting from behind my teeth was a long, pale arm. It was lined with somewhat flawless skin besides drips and trails of red. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There was no way this was possible. It had to be some sort of nightmare.
My eyes watered once more at the pressure in my head suddenly blossoming. It focused even more, and more and more and more, my brain crushing against the top of my skull once the piercing sting of a shoulder blade caressed my tongue. I sputtered a laugh, feebly sinking in to a delirious sense of whimsy. I could feel my mind melt into ecstatic agony. My throat expanded to make room as a large, round shape forced its way through. I heard my jaw snap as the crown of the sphere peeked past my lips. My vision was swallowed up in to white before… before I felt my body ripped in half from mouth to middle.
It was a blissful feeling, really. I fell, slumping to the ground like a sack of tissue and meat, unable to move. My organs splayed between my split form, and my blood painted the ground delicately like an abstract painting. It was beautiful. I was beautiful, just as those dreams had once been. The soft glow of the newly born individual slowly died from my sight. I could feel them nearby. I could feel them stare at me with a calloused grin. It was muffled – everything was muffled – but I could just hear them enough as the darkness closed in. Their voice was raspy just as mine had been in my screams. Their voice was… exactly like mine, actually. I heard their laughter. I heard their delight at my death.
I heard their teasing, “One of us has to make it… Don’t you think?”