To my atrocious dismay, the room, like myself, substituted its old, monotonous aspect for a newened, eerily-terrifying one; its dimensions were massive now, exceeding the proportions of the whole mansion. The composition of the room was largely altered too; the room resembled a large cube of polished, white marble. As I beheld the ghastly magnitude of the room, fear tightened its already firm grasp on my waking senses, but it didn't inflict damage upon me. Because I wasn't real and physical. Could I have died? Just the thought of it terrified me, so I decided not to dwell on it.
As I studied the monolithic assembly in which I weightlessly floated, I beheld another striking variation, one that was subtler and less prominent. From the furthest recesses of the arena-like room, a trail of blackened tendrils of smoke fluttered about aimlessly. Moments later, the tendrils started designing complex shapes, as if they were a part of an esoteric religious ritual, and that made me suspect that a creature guided them. Motivated by speculation, I flew gracefully across the room towards the smoke.
What I discovered bedazzled me; the tendrils weren't tendrils, and the smoke wasn't smoke. Instead, the tendrils were humanoid-like forms twirling rapidly in a repetitive circular motion. To describe them isn't an easy task, but I recall that they had a smoky, blackened exterior. The skin was distorted as if it were made of sand-like grains. Simplicity was a main trait of these creatures; their forms were entirely identical. Describing their movement was an easier task, for they swirled around in the shadowy mass of their inter wining bodies, and their transitions were very rhythmic, as if they swayed to a melody, one that my hearing wasn't aware of.
Following a moment of quick consideration, I decided to approach the creatures, for I fancied that they could come to my aid. I swum in the air straight towards them. As I neared the creatures, a sudden state of reluctance arose in me, but my desperation was grand enough to extinguish it. I drew closer to the aberrant creatures, but my eyesight beheld no new details, nor did I observe any elements I overlooked before; the creatures black, grain-like texture was blacker than night against the white of the room.
Curiosity isn't always beneficial, because sometimes - as in my case - it leads to unspoken evils. My poignant interest in the gnarled beasts led me too close them, and thus, I fell in their malevolent trap when I first beheld their malicious faces, which were also black and featureless except for a pair of ominously glowing blood-red eyeballs. To my utter dismay, the creatures weren't friendly or welcoming. Instead, they lunged viciously at my ethereal body like rabid predators, striking fear in me. I felt my form falter as I commenced a desperate flight from the relentless creatures, who were closing in on me. Disallowing myself from surrendering, I continued to flee from my ferocious pursuers. As I sped across the room, I thought that continuing the escape was futile; my salvation was totally unimaginable with the beasts tailing me. Yet despite this, I maintained my bursting acceleration, because looking back would definitely bring closer to my certain end.
And that was the last thing I beheld with waking senses, for following a massive blast somewhere underneath me, it all occurred so fast. The blast intoxicated me, and so I'm not sure of what happened back then. All I remember is that after the blast, I heard a mind-crushing shriek and felt myself paralyzed. The horrific madness though, didn't come till a black limb embraced my floating form.
FEAR. I thought of fear. I saw him. I saw fear. He commanded me. I CAN'T TOLERATE THIS! ANYTHING, EVEN HELL IS BETTER!! HELL. Pits filled with boiling flames. Burnt cadavers, charred remains and repulsive odors. Stakes sharper than the sharpest blades. Scenery of torment. Monstrosity. Suffocation. Suffering, I shall undergo! MEMORIES. I grabbed a flask, opened it and poured my memories therein. DEATH. I welcomed Death, my final savior. I thought of death, and couldn't think anymore. And so, existence was trampled and forgotten, leaving one dark, brooding word echoing behind: ZORNATH.
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