Was it just a Dream?
Each step seemed to sicken me further, as if the very essence of my being were imploring me to turn back now. Not unlike a child I felt, venturing deeper among this cavernous path wondering, fearing, for what might wait beyond the darkness. Lantern in hand. My only hopes extended to the thought of the flame which offered me this small comfort. Light - taken for granted by one who admired the stillness of night. Now I could only pray that this small flame last me the journey there and back; That there be a return from whence I go. Praying - A godless man, who resented his maker, now finds himself practically upon his knees in mercy. Screaming, quivering, begging within for but an answer to so many questions. No, not an answer... An escape.
I wished, prayed, hoped to be given the solace of ignorance and forget all that has been seen; To return to a life of stupefied beliefs; To be spared of this journeys inevitable end. Mixed emotions defined my being as I ventured further. They were placed into a turmoil by my own mind, which could never hope to grasp if but a fabric of the events which unfolded before my very eyes. Here, now, I journeyed deeper despite every part of my instinct demanding I turn away. Then, before, I'm still within that room. Disgusted by blood soaked sheets, walls decorated in what would later be deemed human flesh. Later, after, I'm on my knees; Tears cascading from eyes which burn away in azure flames. Time, once defined as but a stream, is not unlike a beehive: filled with so many paths and doors. If then I had chosen to ignore that case, to return home as intended, would I then be rid of the suffering I endured? Did it even matter? The answers were irrelevant. Here, now, I am. Endangering ever closer to what I knew was the end.
So why did I continue? Was it from the fear of what followed in my wake, or humanities own curiosity for answers to the unknown? My body suffered in pain, my mind tearing at the foundations of being, shrieking for me to stop. Yet I found myself ignoring these warnings. Not for fear of my safety should I stop, should they - it - manage to reach me, but because I had lost so much in this journey that I saw no other means to an end other than reaching the destination. Then, before, I traversed the darkness and was hunted by what I could only describe to be the nemesis of man. Escaping its cold grip at the cost of my right arm. Bleeding, aching, the seconds of my remaining life ticked away as I felt myself weaken from the loss of precious claret liquid.
Here, now, I fall to my knees before the grandeur of such sight. Tears cascading from eyes which burn away in azure flames. Dear God what have I done? Regret is but a word, the mere irrelevant spec of an emotion, event - whatever you may call it - which courses through my figure. Ripping apart my very anatomy from within. Had I the words to describe what gaped before me. No, even then I would dare not speak them in fear that such forbidden confession might anchor this perversity to existence. Hell was but the word of a feeble mind. Pain was mere ignorance of modesty. Clarity, understanding; now, more than ever, could never have been such agony.
Existence is deprived in the presence of what I believed but a moment as I find myself reminded of the words which once described such an onset. Which began the quest for answers mankind, I, should never have asked... So I spoke them aloud in hopes that I might find a sense of amenity in this moment of closure. Yet knowing it was all for naught.
"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering... fearing... Doubting... If this was but a nightmare I would awaken from, or the advent to unimaginable horror."
I was changed, but to what end? Diving into madness within that brief juncture; Left scarred and disoriented by its mercy. I knew then, as it began, I would never be the same again.
And so I awoke....