The Spirit
A place beyond beginnings and endings. A place where time is meaningless. A place of nothing. Nothing but darkness.
And something moves in the darkness. Something that wants all that you are. Something that sends you past the Hells until you are nothing at all. There is no after. There is only waiting.
Waiting for that thing to find you, and bring the end.
*******
Echoes. That was reality. It was all that mattered. It took me a long time to realize that the echoes were mine. It took me longer to realize that I was. I was pain within nothing. A shard of something shattered.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Vague recollections of a life. Love. Loss. Pain. Laughter. I wandered in the blackness, waiting for the end. Occasionally I heard screams that didn’t belong to my echoes. But those screams were always abruptly cut off as something shifted in the darkness.
I didn't know how long I wandered. I stayed quiet, wanting to avoid whatever monster awaited me. But I didn't know why I tried. What was there to exist for?
And then I could see a light in the darkness. Distant at first, but stronger with time. I wandered toward it, nothing more than a shadow myself. If I was one with the gloom, then maybe the light would be a kinder end than whatever hunted the others.
The light took shape as I approached, looking like a man. Something distant lept within me at the sight of him, but I didn’t know why. And yet, I still wandered toward him.
He looked my way as I approached, and I saw through the haze of his aura. He had a gentle face. A face unfit for a place such as this.
He smiled as he saw me. Dropping to my height, he spoke in a soft voice. A familiar voice.
“Hello, Little One.”