Enshrouding Darkness

The overwhelming smell of rot singed Damian’s nostrils as he awoke in a stupor, hardly able to wrench his eyes open. A faint light from above revealed a decaying hand with blackened nails between his legs. He jumped up at once, crawling away from it only to be met with even more limbs brushing up against him. Looking down below, he sat atop an endless pile of contorted, mangled corpses.

Damian’s breath was torn from his lungs as his blood pulsated in a frenzy. Was this another nightmare? He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, and again, and again. A slap against his face did nothing, only sharpening the intensity of the dreadful stench. Sweat found its way into his mouth.

Had he fallen into a well? Why could he not remember? Maybe if he called out, someone would answer.

“Hello?” Damian raised his voice as the well devoured its sound. “Hello?” He was louder this time, “Is anyone there? Please, please help me!”

There was no answer in reply. Frantic, he looked around him, unable to look directly at the dead bodies underneath. He stopped and stared at the wall in front of him. Inching closer, it was unmistakable…this was his own handwriting.

“Don’t be afraid, Damian. You have a new family now.”

His body convulsed violently. What did it mean? How could he have written those words? At last, he recognized the black velvet sleeve draping down his arm. Damian braced himself to look back at the human carcasses to see that they were wearing the same dark robes. He vaguely remembered putting it on, but the memory didn’t feel as though it belonged to him. It was more like he had been watching from the outside, floating above himself as one does in a dream….or a nightmare.

“Hello? Hello? Someone help me! Please.” His voice cracked with desperation. What could have possibly possessed him to do this? To throw himself in this horrible place? There was a faint ringing in his ears as flashes of the past became clear.

He had been alone, with no one to offer their warmth or love. They promised him that he would be safe, that he would be happy again. That it would all be okay and that the pain would melt away very soon.

Dread sunk its teeth into Damian, crawling closer and closer. Would this really be it? The end of everything? No. He didn’t want to live, but he didn’t want to die either.

“Let me out! I don’t want this anymore,” he cried out to the point of bursting. “Please, let me out!”

A dark figure came into view at the top of the well, prompting Damian to shout even louder.

“Get me out, I don’t want to be here. Help me, please!”

Only eerie silence. No matter how many times he called out, the figure said nothing. Damian stared up at it, helpless as it slowly covered the opening and enshrouded him in utter darkness.