In retrospect, I suppose it was kind of like stepping through a door with no staircase on the other side. That’s what it seemed like initially anyway, the rush of fear, the clenching knot in your stomach that you’re dropping, the knowledge you’re going to really… and I mean really hurt yourself when you land.
Funny thing is, I don’t know how long it’s been now, but I’ve still not impacted on anything solid, and I’m not sure anymore that I’m falling, either. I look around… at least, I presume I’m doing so, but I can’t see any light receding behind me. Or one growing in front of me either, I’m pleased to report. It’s scant comfort to not be in a long tunnel with a light at the end, but I’ll take it.
My brain though, won’t give up on the sheer adrenaline-rush terror of being suspended in darkness with no reference points. There’s no wind rushing past, so I’m not travelling, but I feel light, almost as if I’m floating, weightless. Is this what outer space is like? Everything’s silent, eerily so.
I try to lift my foot and stamp downwards to ascertain if there’s anything solid, but nothing, and my leg extends with no resistance. I stretch my arms wide – well, again, I think I’ve done so, but I can’t really tell – there’s nothing there.
Wait a moment… there is something up ahead. I strain my eyes, and it looks like it’s on fire, but no warmth radiates my way. It’s… they’re words. They’re getting larger, ever so slowly, and finally I can decipher them: “No Way Out.”
That’s not very reassuring. I laugh to myself, but it sounds bitter and I choke halfway through.
I need to think, to concentrate. I don’t want to get any closer, don’t want to pass that flaming sign for sure, but how do I stop the inevitable? Closing my eyes makes no difference. I try turning my head again, but they stay in the centre of my frame of reference. Lifting my hands, I cover my face, thankful at least that I can experience that physical sensation of touch but, even then, the words do not go; they are burned into my corneas like a warning, a judgment, an ending.
I try to scream, but it disappears, no echoes, just a dead sound.
Off to my left, there is a rustling, shuffling noise, and I freeze, heart pounding. Instinctively I know that this entity does not wish me well. I listen carefully, but it is not repeated… and then it is. Much closer, and it sounds like several of them, whatever they are.
Somehow, I know that they’re hungry.
A gentle, soft, insistent laughter inserts itself into my brain. Mocking me for considering that I might have some value to them, or, in fact, to anybody.
I am nothing.
The burning words get larger, closer.
I am nothing.
I am nothing.
I am nothing.
No way out.
