Shivering. Flickering. Excruciating.
There was a difference between the silent darkness of the night and the crushing nothingness. That wasn’t the former. Deafening silence? You realized that such phrase was only for human to play with, as the pitch-black you were in robbed you of your auditory sense with its. You tried to blink, hoping that each would take you back to the world of bright you took for granted, yet each time you opened your eyes, you achieved but a harsh, undeniable confirmation that those days were no longer your reality. The more you tried, the more you felt your eyes bulging out as those useless pupils stormed left and right, up and down, to the point where you don’t know which is which. And that’s what’s worse: that you can only feel yourself.
You groped your eyes and tried to gently push it back, but what you didn’t know was that the sensation of your own body.. peculiar. As you can somehow perceive your own hands, you tried to figure out how your arms felt like, what your shoulder felt like, what your face felt like: Its sharp, pointy nose; its small but soft lips; its chin firm and solid; its hair flying among the noth-
You stopped. Fear had again struck your heart that it stopped you from shivering as your palms hang further from yourself than it was to the distant unknown. There was only one effect from the knowledge that you are, in the absolute sense, alone. You were then just a frozen figure, with your limbs floating among the empty. It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t hot. You tried to feel but the space provided nothing, and the fact that you don’t know what’s around you only stimulates your imagination of the worst. It felt as if every part of your body will blend with the void if you let it be, yet what else is there to do but be silent, be still – be the void?
No, you don’t want that.
You want to feel. The nothingness around had numbed you of your senses, but you thought at least you could feel yourself. Anything would do, even the discomfort of digging your own skin and ripping what little flesh your nails could rip out. With the stinging pain running through your body comes the relief of knowing that you can still rule your body. You tried more: pulling your hair out, gouging your eyes out, breaking your fingers – how liberating! The pain of your limbs, the sensation of blood flowing through your cheeks among other, more viscous liquid, the burn; you never realized you were smiling.
You were running out of ideas until one drop of those rolling down your cheek took a turn along your crooked smile, and found its way to your mouth; and then there was this new sensation. It felt so gooey and thick, and surprisingly sweet. Your lips tried to suck in more of these liquid, and the tongue didn’t let go of the first one down the throat. No, you must indulge yourself in this revolutionary way of feeling: taste. You rolled whatever you got in your mouth with your tongue, back and forth to immerse yourself in the full experience of the blood. Yet some inevitably dropped down to your system, and the thirst was quenched just for a little. More, you need more.
Then you bit your thumb. Not the nimble you usually did, but you clench your jaw across the whole structure, from the nail to the fleshy, juicy parts. The thirst drives your fangs deeper and deeper into your finger, cracking the nails and hacking through the skin, until you feel the bones with your fangs and the fangs with your bone. What follows was the excruciating, fulfilling pain, along with a mixture of blood and keratin so delicious you don’t want to swallow it. Your adrenaline rushed through your body like a train of salvation. You widened your eyes in pleasure, which works in harmony as your wounded eyes gets more torturing as they were moved. Gosh, is there anything better than this?
As the adrenaline rush reminded you of the nothingness below your feet, you felt something reaching for it – something cold with scales, hissing as it coils itself around your leg, scraping the part of your lower feet that’s ticklish. You then felt a chill down your spine, but rather than to fade it out like people do, you embrace the disgusting, yet excitingly new sensation that now burns your inner self. The serpent continues to creep up your torso while strengthening its grip, never letting you go. Lastly, it slithers around the back of your neck, and the goosebumps was the new addition to the cocktail of pain, disgust, and liberation. As you sense the cobra’s head rearing in front of you, you laughed at the face of sheer terror and let yourself loose.
And only then will you be satisfied.
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