Desperation

“A body? That’s what this is? It will not do.”

The inevitable is not so inevitable.

The slimy hands release their grip from my bare shoulders. The wretched hands’ owner shouts something in baffled tones, something about skin. Letting out an incredulous sigh, it scampers off leaving me alone. Still lying face down on the table in either my underwear or nothing at all, I can’t tell.  

Screaming inwardly, “Flight!” Turning that into an internal chanting mantra. Wild energy masks the pain and embarrassment to allow focus on survival. I need to get out of here. Come on body, work for me! Struggling vainly to command it to move, my limbs won’t listen. The adrenaline fades as quickly as it came. It leaves only a sense of defeat. Quelled by the fruitless internal struggle and mentally exhausted, I’ve no progress to show for it.

Distant recognized voices, my red-headed demon friend from before speaks in disbelieving tones with the pointy, smelly, slimy one.  

How can this situation get any worse? 

Why did I ask? The rule is to never ask. 

The situation becomes terrifyingly worse.  

The pressure on my shoulders returns. This time it’s not the sharp-clawed pressure of slimy talons but a powerful and meaty grasp. Being roughly handled, my body is flipped over and suspended upright. My head flops lifelessly and uncomfortably backward… AGAIN!

Mighty fingers grasp behind my head, but they offer support. Almost like a doctor holding up a newborn child. A blurry, red-crowned head fills my warped vision, I can almost feel his thoughts intently probing as if looking for signs of life. 

Connection.

Awe mixed with a touch of fear. I can feel it and can’t tell if it belongs to me or him. Infinitesimally small pixels of light swarm around where his body is. Shifting my eyes, I turn my focus towards the direction of my captor. I hope my look shows that I am seeking mercy and help. His response is one unintelligible word in a half-surprised tone.  

Was that good or bad?   

He dumps me into something. It is rough and feels like a burlap sack. In the darkness of the sack, I’ve more time to ponder.

Is that what happens before you are put to death? It’s bad! Most definitely, bad! Like a sack of potatoes, the red-headed demon tosses me over his shoulder again. The guillotine awaits.

This time the red giant takes only a few steps before placing me down on the cold, hard floor. The pressure on my shoulders lightens as he leans my back against, assuming a wall. My head limply dangles to the left-side. His footsteps trail away with a loud clanging sound. Abandoned again, my body and mind are bruised and aching. The chill eats away at my sanity leaving me fearful of what will come next.

With no reference to time or space, it is impossible to tell if I experience the terrifying darkness of the sack or the comforting emptiness of the void. This allows for the easy contortion of space-time. Unsure how long I’ve been crying or could even shed more than a single tear, now they flow freely down my cheek.

The unbearable smell in this place finds its way past the crusted blood. The frigid stone which my back rests against offers distraction in the form of cold and nauseating discomfort. Another loud crack of the whip trailed by a miserable and defeated cry makes me wonder how long until it’s my turn to be on the receiving end of those lashes. The wailing and shrieks in this foul place rend my mind invoking absolute terror.  

Completely powerless, another eternity in hell elapses. Defeated, exhausted, and requiring peace, yet unable to find sleep or death’s door. An ultimatum is reached. Either regain calmness or recede into the depths of insanity. 

“Almost there. Be patient.” 

The conversation with myself makes my mind sarcastically retort, “Insanity it is.” It’s not as if sanity and a passive state have been beneficial to me. Letting go and drowning in my thoughts. No longer struggling to push away these chaotic waves; instead, I succumb to them. Allowing myself to drown, swallowed by the infinite ocean.

Quietly, I mouth the words of an uplifting song written so long ago.