Within Deep Bright Chambers

I don’t know how I got there, or here, or anywhere. I don’t remember much of yesterday or anything, for that matter. All I know is I was inside a deep, bright chamber. I’ve no idea how long I’ve been there, I’ve no idea how I got there, I’ve no clue how I got out. The only reason I’m doing this right now is to find out something, anything. I simply do not know anything. Looking in the mirror, I can’t recognize the face. My phone is locked, and I don’t remember the password. I’m too scared to go outside if I’m being honest. The mere notion of sunlight is sending shivers down my spine. Flashing images of white halls sting my eyes.

These endless white halls, never-ending white walls. The screaming silence. Going on and on and on and on, turning nauseating as my feet drag me on and on and on and on, searching for a way out from a place without any entrances or exits.

The floor and ceiling, a different yet same shade of color as the walls, twist, and turn, switching places. Pulsating, vibrating, twisting, and contorting. Up becomes down and, down becomes up.

Near becomes far and, far becomes near. Everything is so bright, burning the eyes. The silence is burning the ears. Audible breathing gets more and more frantic, behind me, in front of me, above me, beneath me.

Endless pallor stretched into infinity beams and beacons onto me.

It is my own breathing that haunts me so. It did inside the deep bright chambers, and it does now. As I write this, the cruel hand of sickening, ceaseless luciferous illumination invades my mind. I am dragged again into the great white maw of absolute nothingness. I can feel the walls of my supposed apartment moving, stretching, elongating ad infinitum. They are turning whiter than white. I can’t stand the sight of the walls to my left or right. They are too bright for my eyes to handle.

My skin is crawling, my legs are shaking, and the soles of my feet are starting to ache. While I do not move, to the best of my knowledge. Only my fingers are moving as of now, as I am typing this. My mind is entirely convinced I am once again walking within the deep, bright chambers.

I can feel the sweat trickling down my skin. The back of my neck is burning, and my head is turning light. I am not breathing right. Something is right there, right behind me, waiting, watching, stalking, praying.

I just checked, and there’s nothing there. I am all alone.

It’s just me and that mass in the chair. The strange mass I can’t make out in my mind, no matter how hard I try, the mere notion of eye contact with that thing, with that face, feels like being hit by a thunderbolt.

Its unmoving, stoic, petrified posture is horrifying. I think it has a face, but I cannot make out any features. I think it has eyes, because it stares at me, through me. These deep blue orbs; they’re so familiar yet so alien. Terrifyingly so. I cannot for the life of me, understand why these orbs are so haunting.

I just looked again and saw it again, that place, that horrible place. The deep bright chambers, the overwhelming whiteness interlaced with the stench of decay. The walls are closing in on me. I’m sure. I can smell them approaching whenever I look away, but every time I turn my gaze, they’re back in place. Still, cold; walls. Forcing me to walk onwards, but the more I walk, the more violating this whole gaze becomes. The more I walk, the more the back of my head pounds like a raw and stinging wound. Pulsating flashes of bright white light in the form of predatory jaws shoot through my eyes and my skull and everything.

Strange mental photographs of people and things I don’t know, of blurred faces I can never make out. And every time I try to figure out the source of these visions, the pain becomes unbearable, an invisible flame burns through my head, tossing and turning me through the endless white space and forcing me on a sprint across the impossibly long halls as I am trying to avoid being crushed by the fleshy white walls slowly closing in on me like the lips of a ravenous cannibal.

I race across the pristine world of nothingness in a claustrophobic panic until I slip and fall, tumbling across layer upon layer of white membranes and walls and glasses and sheets and webs, until I find myself lying beneath a noose. The dread becomes unbearable at this point and my psyche snaps itself between the two worlds as if something is preventing me from viewing what would happen next.

The noose in the deep, bright chambers is swaying like a phantom pendulum in front of my eyes. It looks a lot like the one hanging from the ceiling above the alien mass slumped in the chair behind me. Just not as torn.

God, I wish that thing would stop staring at me already. I feel like it is about to pounce at any moment now, but every time I turn to face it, it’s just where it was. Still in the chair, the blue orbs still fixated on me. Unmoving, unshifting, completely dead.

Every time I look into those shiny blue orbs, I find myself wandering inside the deep bright chambers, on the verge of being crushed in a putrid atmosphere as I try my damnedest to escape the never-ending maze of nothingness.

The stench of rot won’t leave my mind, in fact, I think it’s getting stronger.