Survival and starvation breed insanity in the minds of the weak willed.
The weak don’t last long.
The voices scramble in my head. Fighting. Striking all the cords. Lighting sparking up my neurons. Causing pain. So on. And so on.
The scent of sulfur squeezes in under the crack of the door. Seductive. Alluring. It could all be over if I give in. A doorknob away.
Pitch black footsteps on the other side. Some drag. Others pace.
A scent which promotes a familiar taste. Iron. Strong. It lingers in this place.
Greed lead the curious cat to Death’s door. Whether or not I want to remain here anymore is no longer a choice I get to make. Best case scenario is to endure.
It’s been days and the daze is setting in. Not many ways this could end. I’ve already debated running outside. And I hate it, knowing I might die. But there’s no other way to go.
A three by three prison. This isn’t how it was meant to be. Now it’s home to me. Unless I’m brave enough to risk it all. And I’m almost there with no courage involved.
They don’t leave. They were people, but I won’t be deceived. Briefly creatures. And now it’s a twisted mystery what’s happened to their souls. I question if I turn where my mind will go.
They used to scream and groan. Now they whisper and moan. Almost audible. Probable that they’re demons. It’s as if they know I’m here. Telling me to go join them. Crippling fear keeps me disjointed and sitting right here.
Barely sleep. Literally starving. My mind is weak. The voices are scarring. I hear them speak. Merging with the outside shrieks. I might already be one. I might have already turned. I wouldn’t know how it feels. No one has come back after they’ve learned.
Gasps. “C-c-ome t-to mmm-mmm-me.” Broken records. Lost their minds.
No more ammo. I can’t take my life. I’d cower out anyway. I still have a knife.
As if they suddenly figured it out, the doorknob rattles. On the other side they commence to shout. They’re getting ready for battle. I grip the knob to hold it still. But starvation has me weak. Light begins to spill through the crack on the side. I’m feeling ill. Can barely struggle to save my life.
I let go and curl into a ball on the corner of the floor. I call out to my family I’ve not seen in months. Pray soon I’ll join them happily. Never doubted this moment once.
The blinding bright light shines at me, piercing the pitch black night.
I’m tugged in the middle of this insanity. Here I come, I guess.