It's silent. Too silent. I can't see anything. But I smell something. It smells like nothing. Suddenly I am burning. It's starting in my nose. Now it's in my throat. It's making its way to my stomach and I feel every part of where it's touching. I am panicking now because it is in my lungs. I can't breathe- I am going to die this way, I know it. Death itself is here, waiting for me with open arms. Every part of me is burning now.
I look around myself waiting for those harsh orange flames to come curling around my body. But it's dark. I expect sound to come. Nothing. It's building, that feeling inside of me. If something doesn't happen soon, I will combust. I feel a tear making its way down my face. A sharp sting on my cheeks makes me wince. I instinctively move my hands up to my face and feel rough, jagged lines down my cheekbones, which feel oddly hollow. Scrapes, I think to myself. They must have absorbed the salt from my tears. I wipe my eyes and bring my hands down.
But something isn't right. My fingers feel wet. Not with tears, but something sticky that smells of copper. Copper. Blood. The blood comes quicker, running over my fingertips and falling down beneath me. I feel liquid running down my cheeks, dripping onto my chest. It is warm. More blood. My eyes widen and I hurriedly try to stop it from flowing as it creates trails over my abdomen. I desperately look at my hands to find the source of this menacing fluid, but it is too dark to see.
Suddenly what appears to be a mirror forms beneath my feet. Another one forms in front of me. I almost vomit at the sight of the person in front of me. She is thin. I can see her bones. Her tendons look as if they will rip from her pale flesh at any moment. She has blue eyes that look as if though they were once bright, filled with vibrant life. Any sign of life thriving beneath her gaze is now gone. I can see her veins, bluish-green webs straining to carry blood to her heart. Her hair is a rich brown that is hanging lifelessly over her slumped shoulders. The strands near her chest are soaked in blood. Her feet are bare and her body is thick with more blood, some dried and some fresh.
I stare once more at this hideous creature that stands before me. Then a thought crosses my mind. No. Surely it can't be true. This crimson-covered anorexic figure can't be me. She looks dead, and I am not dead. I refuse to acknowledge that this demon is actually myself.
After many moments, a female voice startles me out of my sudden reverie. Do as you wish, Mara. You can continue to bear this pain, or you can end your suffering. "End my suffering? What-"
My thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of a cool blade in my hand. I look down and notice a knife has appeared in my grasp. A tingling sensation arises in my chest and then the burning is back, worse than before. A piercing scream escapes my cracked lips as I drop to the ground. I glance at the knife shaking in my palm. I could end this. I could end it all right now. I slowly bring it to my chest and insert the tip of the blade in my flesh ever so slightly.
I freeze. Something in me, in my heart, something is warning me. I can escape this without ending my life. Something big awaits me. I can feel it. I slowly stand up and throw the knife as hard as I can. But I don't hear it clatter the way it should as it falls to the ground. I gasp as the pain returns once again, full force.
I writhe on the cold, dark ground for what seems like hours. I pray, pray this will end soon. Please. PLEASE. Suddenly with a vicious jerk on my head, I am pulled out of this place. I can see. I can see and I am so glad. I see white and nothing else. Some bright lights, maybe. Then I notice figures in red, and they start talking. Why they are speaking in hushed voices I do not know.
I am able to make out a singular phrase.
"Pass. Begin Phase 1," says a grim, distinctly male voice. I hear a buzzer, almost like it is blaring right in my ear. Something hits me, hard. It takes my breath away. I am now enveloped in darkness once again.
