Am I dead?

Walter Alvis floated in a pitch black void. There was, absolutely, nothing around him.

Am I a ghost? What happened? Please don’t tell me I died from exhaustion from playing video games.

Walter was a bit of a shut-in. He held a job and could support himself, which he was proud of, but he did not socialize beyond work. Once work was finished he went straight home and filled up the loneliness by playing video games. One day he woke up lying on the floor in front of his computer after a binge session during a three day weekend.

Often, he was teased for his escapism.

“Hello?”

No response.

He tried looking at his hands. It was too dark to see them.

“Well, ghosts can’t talk, at the very least. Right? Maybe they can. But I don’t feel like a ghost. I would probably know without a doubt if I was dead or not, right?”

It felt silly to talk to himself in such a situation but he was desperate to fill the void.

He felt like he was leaving someone very important behind. He no memory of who she was, only that he loved her very much and that he should do anything for her. Sharp regret filled his heart.

Deep in his soul he could feel a pair of scales. One one side was his desire to think clearly. On the other side was his affection for this mysterious woman. No matter how hard he tried he could never put enough importance on his own mind to outweigh his love for her.

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It was barely a whisper of an idea but he realized this scale should not be there.

Why do I feel this way? But how could I forget this much about you, whoever you were? I’m sorry. I should have did everything you wanted and made you happy.

“Can you hear me?”

It’s her!

“Yes! I can hear you! Where are you?!”

“I’m on the other side of the door. Can you see it?”

He desperately looked around. Then it suddenly appeared. Or, rather, he just noticed it. It seemed visible as soon as he knew it was there. If he never knew about it he might never had looked for it.

“Yes! I see it!”

It was a gigantic door, as large as a theater screen turned on its side. It was bright, giving off a glare-less white light, as if there was no movie reel loaded. The borders of the door were lined in glowing runes. He could see his hands again.

“Good! I need you to fight, okay? Pass through the door!”

“I will!”

He did the only thing that felt natural. He moved towards the door.

Then the darkness surged all around him.

It felt like an ocean of oil. He was sunk in it. It dashed him forward, and he desperately reached out to the light, but then the darkness dragged him away. Each tidal force pushed him closer but then dragged him further away. He turned to look.

It was a conglomerate of shadowy faces. He screamed.

“Something’s got me!”

“That’s Ouroboros! Fight it!”

He did. He kicked at it when it dragged him away and he kicked when it pushed him forward. He inched closer to the door, straining to each each time, waiting for each oscillation to gain a bit more ground.

One more inch!

Ouroboros seemed to notice.

“Mine!” “Hungry!” “Slumber!”

Voices echoed from the darkness, no, the darkness reverberated the words.

The next surge was different. It stopped. Then, suddenly, it started to pull at him constantly. He kicked and clawed but he was slipping back. It was winning.

Wherever Ouroboros touched him now he could feel his skin absorbing it. The more he absorbed the heavier he felt.

“Help!”

“Take my hand!”

Her hand appeared through the surface of the door. Ouroboros wrapped around her hand as well.

“No! You’ll get dragged in!”

“Trust me!”

He could only do what she told him. He trusted her. Their hands grasped. Her strength was incredible.

She pulled him through.