Journey Through the Forsaken Depths

Twip
Twip
Twip


The loathing sound of water dripping into an empty basin woke me from my weak, plagued slumber. My pupils dilated and constricted erratically as my gaze slowly swept the room. My hands gripping the arms of the chair I had dozed off upon, my mind racing with the despicable combination of adrenaline and trepidation, the very inkling of what could have begun to permeate the body of my current bastion was enough to draw a cold sweat from me. My chest heaving as my eyes laid upon the door, it had changed somehow.... insignificantly, normally imperceptible, but in this Hell, everything was too vibrant, too noticeable. Soon, I discovered what had caused the change in my surroundings. What my hope had clung to had dimmed, almost died. Its wholesome incandescent glow had begun to wane, its very life draining by the second and with it my hope.

Sounds came from the door, sounds which cannot be aptly described. The blunt grinding of fingers and nails scratching and gripping idly at the walls began to echo through the room quietly. The sound itself swiftly began to force its way deep into my psyche till my hands had gripped themselves around the sides of my head, clutching my skull tightly, protectively, but in vain as most actions were in this pit. Despair began to drip through my bones, the unbearable feeling of dread began to quickly grip at my stomach, making my body retch weakly. Without another second's hesitation, hate gripped my heart. Its searing talons sinking deep into the very core of my being, igniting every fiber of my body with a rage of disgust which fed off of my vilest emotions and darkest goals.

I lunged forward, slamming my chair into the wall, causing the back to crack in half and splinter the wood through the leather and stuffing. My hands grabbed the hospital like bed and threw it from the door, only to suddenly stop as they reached the handle. The pit of self-loathing that had developed at my situation quickly cooled, the feeling of dread overcoming me without warning. My knees began to tremble, tendons and sinew gripping taught at muscles, flesh and bone as I forced myself to stay standing. Sweat began to bead up over my body, quickly causing me to cool down and shiver, or was it the fear and despair? I couldn't tell, the very moments seem to expand and elongate across the whole of reality. What could have been seconds felt like years, each beat of my heart was like the pounding of a drum.

thum thum
Thwum thum
THWUM thum

I could barely take it anymore, my hand gripped the handle without thought behind it, my body already coiled and taught for the coming moments. Yet, even as such, no matter how hard I tried, despair gripped at my soul, whispering those hated words into my ear once again. I closed my eyes, and only then did i realize that tears had begun to flow down my cheeks, a fear so unwholesome and unshakable had gripped me that to combat it would be to combat every ounce of doubt and hate within the world I felt I would never see.

The Light, which had once held all of my hope and all of my love, now had begun to die and for that I hated it. I hated myself for letting it die, I hated this place for forcing me to watch it die. But most of all, I hated it for taking all of my Hope, and all of my Love, only to betray it.

Crack-zzzssssst


I knew the moment the sound entered the air that I was doomed once again. My sight was now gone once again, and all I could do was to grip the handle, and in a fit of suicidal abandon, throw the door wide. My body propelled me through the mass of beings which lurked around the corners of allies, and whispered vile truths and unspeakable lies into our ears. Their eldritch purpose was known to even the most primordial man, their very presence was more than enough to drive any being off the edge of sanity and into the unending pit of dementia which wavered dauntingly below us all. Their forms gripped at my shoulders and arms, claws tearing through my clothing and biting into my skin, their voices sharp and fearsome. Their eyes, those spheres of such primeval glow and unheeding hate pierced through the darkness, causing me to shut my eyes.

My breath was caught in my chest as a barreled through this shuffling crowd of vileness, chest heaving in protest, attempting to draw in a breath, which I dare not allow for fear of something I still cannot explain. I felt something grab my arm, and in my haste and my fit of nervousness and untainted trepidation, I struck out with arms, hands, elbows, fingers, aiming for whatever and wherever I could.

Knunt!


I could hear the sound of my elbows and fists hitting the grasping beings, but it did nothing to the assailants, whom seemed encouraged by it. Their cries pierced my ears, causing bellows of pain to rip from my throat. I began to thrash in such a way that I could continue to through my weight through the shambling cacophony of horrors which continued to plague me until, with a jolt, I slammed into one of the beings and brought it down with all of my weight to bare. The two of us seemed tangled in a ball of lethality, hands gripping at the opposition, while attempting to shield would-be strikes and blows to our face and head. Acting on a sudden compulsion my knee jerked upwards, slamming into what I knew was the beast's chest, I could feel the impact it made with what I think was its rib cage. The impression it made was enough to cause a massive CRACK to suddenly shatter through the air, followed by a scream of agony from the Fel-Horror.

I didn't wait for the reaction from the roiling mob, and with a badly angled lunge I slammed into a nearby wall, only to use it as a prop to scramble to my feet and run blindly through the corridors. My voice was once again ragged, the lining of my throat so raw I could feel the blood running down the forward edge of my esophagus. The soles of my feet were cracked and aching, but I dared not stop, not here in this corridor of hell in which those forsaken behemoths lived. By the time I felt safe enough to slow my progression, my body was bruised and felt broken, every muscle screamed for reprieve from this infernal treatment, and my flesh seemed flayed and torn comparably to that of a medieval torture.

What felt like an hour had passed before i found an alcove, small enough for me to crawl inside and collapse into a heap, sobbing and clutching myself into a ball. I felt little more than fear, on such a grand scale that the once grand emotion of Love, which every mortal had strove for in their life, had transcended from my seemingly worthless being, leaving me lost, alone, and in the clutches of such a horrific place that not even the hope of death would aleviate it. Deep down, I knew I would not, or could not, die in this place.... Something prevented it.....

Twip
Twip
Twip
Twip


The sound was far more mesmerizing than I had ever imagined, its very presence like a comforting beacon. Of what, I could not guess, but it did what it did. In moments, I was asleep in the Alcove, safe from the monsters and unearthly horrors which strode through these halls in every waking moment.

[Previous: http://tlevee.blogspot.com/2010_10_05_archive.html]

Eldritch Journey to a Personal Hell

"It begins"

I shudder awake at the raspy, ghost-like voice echoing through the small, darkened room. The sound reverberates hauntingly off of the walls and alert me to the stark barrenness of the small alcove of hell I seem to have found myself in. I slowly lean forward, my hands finally coming to rest on my knees, my back screaming in protest due to the cramped conditions I'd been in for time unknown. 

Tick......

Tock.....

Tick......

Tock.....

The sound seems to be coming from the depths of my own mind, the echoes sending shivers over my soul. My skin prickles slowly as I sit there, staring in to the Eldritch Shadows that cloud the room like a veil which cannot be lifted. My ears perk, the hair upon the back of my neck begin to rise, i can feel it..... The tremors of depression which i fight so often, but rarely lose, begin to grasp and wrestle in the core of my very being. Each passing moment I can feel the vestiges of hope, of memory, of calm, leaving me like so many fleeting butterflies, scared by the smallest rustle of the wind. 

"NO! ... no no no"

I curl myself into a ball, grasping at my own knees as I try to find some solace from the deprecated, vile emotions attempting to claw into my consciousness. My hands quickly leave my knees, and their grips, to clutch at my face. The sudden feel of freezing water against the base of my palm causes me to gasp, shying from my own touch suddenly. My back and head slamming the wall in my vain attempt to escape what had been perceived as those greedy, grasping fingers of Depression, with her claws that cut me to the core like no insult could. 

Shadowy, ghastly voices begin to murmur through my mind, whispering horrific words and deathly falsities that I cannot perceive. Their tongues sharp enough to cut through my resolve, their words smooth enough to coerce me into trusting them, and their confidence at the ease of my breaking enough to crush all but my most stubborn driving forces. Yet, Even it is not enough to stand alone. Slowly, the last Guardian falls, and with it, so do I. 

"I can see it"

"You know its there"

"Yes, I do"

"You know what comes next"

"Yes, i do"

Falling, falling, endless, despicable falling. I reach out, clutching at anything i can, small ledges, imperceptible features in the bottomless pit. My voice already hoarse, throat raw enough to draw blood with each scream... Screaming.... I've been screaming.... How long? I don't know, since I began falling.... Likely longer. Faux Realization that the pit will never cease... That my last grasp of hope, the floor I had clung to so tightly, had melted away long ago.

"Why?" 

I manage to cry out, the sound reverberating once more through the darkness, the deep pitch of depression which permeated my voice was more perceptible than the fear of recognition, or the daunting phobia of being able to see what else inhabits this personal hell. No sound meets my own, the minimalistic hums of my own voice clutching feebly into the air, though their life was shorter than even that.

Suddenly, I collide with something.... Maybe a ledge.... or even a door, though i have little knowledge of what. I scramble, like a beggar in the streets before a cadre of Legionnaires, for the door, for any hole I could fit. After seconds, such precious seconds, I fall through the entrance to this new plane. Its very feel was different, though the shadows had followed me almost religiously to the depths of this place as well. I reach out, fumbling my hands against the wall, relying on the last sense i possess undaunted by the delirium. Fingers scrape and scrabble numbly against brick and cement, much like that of a hospital's walls. My bare feet step upon the first tile, the ceramic square causing my flesh to prickle up at the sudden cold sensation, though I dare not stop, even to enjoy such a glorious sensation.

The first step by far the hardest. The very recognition of the act itself enough to shy me away for some heavy moments. With caught breath I force myself to move, my joints protesting, even locking up, in hopes to halt or stall my advance, my subconscious fear of this place, and what it could be, almost overwhelming to the point of emotional breakdown. Finally, with heavy breath and sunken heart, I begin to truly move once again, the heel of my right foot the first to make contact with the wholly completed floor, passing from the singular first tile which signified my transition from the endless pit.

The very echo of this movement felt like a blast of foreboding reminiscence, some shadowy memory hidden away within the corridors of my mind. As I walk, I can feel passageways leading from my own, small hallways and rooms, each with their own inhabitant. Each seems focused on me, Their gaze causing my unease to strengthen and embolden, my soul shivering from the fear of what hell I seem to have literally fallen into. I dare not turn my head, lest I glimpse the horrific vestiges of those darkened shadows and vile monstrosities, whose whole purpose seemed to watch me, and whisper those unintelligible words which seemed to scar my mind to its innermost rooms. The meanings, long lost to me, would startle even the most saintly, when whispered by  the lying, deathlike behemoths.

I continue on, trudging through the abysmal passage, fingers rubbing raw against walls, in such disrepair that small chunks jutted out into the air haphazardly. Cuts and bruises quickly became noticeable as the walls began to become worse, the depths of this psychotic wilderness fearsomely looming ever onward. Finally, it stops, the compulsion to continue on departs so suddenly, the only thing I can comprehend doing is to scramble out of the corridor, throwing the occupant of the room out with all of my might, not waiting for any more than a Hummingbird's wingbeat before slamming the door and scrabbling for the light before throwing every lock, bolt and chain upon the door, even barricading it with the 'bed', which seemed to have taken up a portion of the room, with its only friend being a large chair, which I unhesitatingly collapsed into, curling upon it against the corner and staring at the only way in, and out, of the room.

I hear nothing, as time passes, no scrabbling of miscreated claws, or snuffling of nameless horrors which I knew had begun to slip into the existence I had so mindlessly trudged not even minutes ago. In this sanctum, this paradise within the final ring of hell itself, I wait, hands wrapped around legs, and head pressed against knees to reduce open body mass and conserve what warmth i could produce in this hollowed state I slowly recover from. Fearful tremors pass through my form, my gaze irrevocably drawn to the door, though I knew nothing would open it. The light, which seemed in and of itself a very miracle from the grace of all that is holy, kept my sanctum lit, the very hum from whatever fueled this beautiful glow was enough to bring me from the edge of deprived insanity which I had been so hazardously tripping on. 

My very hope and inner being seemed restored by this tiny, once insignificant, incandescence. My mind sluggishly beginning to knit itself a whole once more, while my body began doing the same for all the bruises and pains i had accrued in the abysmal trip to my current haven. The glimmer of that singularly beautiful point in existence, whose radiance was awe-inspiring, yet fearfully powerful, was a a bastion of hope, within the horrors and depravity depths of this personal hell.

[Continuation: http://tlevee.blogspot.com/2010_10_06_archive.html ]