Survival and starvation breed insanity in the minds of the weak willed.
The weak don’t last long.
Here’s Alex.

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The voices scramble in his head. Fighting. Striking all the cords. Lighting sparking up his 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 he gives 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 Alex wants to remain here anymore is no longer a choice he gets to make. Best case scenario is to endure.

It’s been days and the daze is setting in. Not many ways this could end. He’s already debated running outside. And he hates it, knowing he 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 the only home he could see. Unless he’s brave enough to risk it all. And he’s almost there with no courage involved.

They don’t leave. They were people, but he won’t be deceived. Briefly creatures. And now it’s a twisted mystery what’s happened to their souls. He question if he turns where would his mind 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 he’s here. Telling him to go join them. Crippling fear keeps him disjointed and sitting right here.

Barely sleep. Literally starving. His mind is weak. The voices are scarring. He hears them speak. Merging with the outside shrieks. He might already be one. He might have already turned. He 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. He can’t take his life. He’d cower out anyway. He still has 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. He grip the knob to hold it still. But starvation has him weak. Light begins to spill through the crack on the side. He’s feeling ill. Can barely struggle to save his own life.

He lets go and curls into a ball on the corner of the floor. He calls out to his family that he’s not seen in months. Pray soon he’ll join them happily. Never doubted this moment once.

The blinding bright light shines at him, piercing the pitch black night.
He’s tugged in the middle of this insanity. “Here I come, I guess.”