The Mist, Part 2 (Entropy)
My mind exists wholly in my hand as my fingers drag along the concrete wall. Everything is numb, my feet float far away. My gaze remains drenched in darkness, yet here I continue toward my end. Unknown it comes, it comes, it comes, unknown. As I descend into deep my mind falls away, letting go. It floats away, a conscious of clarity. With it is carried all regret.
Flakes of skin surely trace my path. Followed by nerve, shocking muscles in their desolation. Yet no pain is felt within my bones, for lack of pain or nerve. Both and the same. A sound.
Sludgy darkness raises my chin and my eyes higher still, to sting with dust. Against a landslide, I cover my head and shrink my body. As my chin brings itself back down my eyes feel worse from rubbing. My hand. I extend it back toward the wall. There is no wall. Aflame, my eyes search the blackness. My hands search the blackness. My feet trod the darkness. The air begins to boil. My nerves rip. My arms flail. My head twists madly but my neck tightens. I bring my hand to my forehead and slam it back. Still the evil falls. I clutch toward it, my heel coming off the floor. It fills my brain, overflows over my eyes. A sound. An avalanche. Here is death. So late, but here it arrives at last. But. My feet step back, a little. My feet falter. I slip. My eyes widen. Death reaches toward me, but is too slow, too frustratingly slow.
I fall.
Pain. So. Pain. Oh. Pain.
A sound.
Save.
Me.
From, pain.
Oh it falls still.
My hand comes up.
My.
Fingers.
Blood.
Soul.
Salvation.
I.
fall.
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