He Lies

He has seen it before, the lurker, the crawler, sitting atop its web in shadows. A glisten from his corner, calling his name. What is his name? His arm extends. He can’t reach it. He can’t move. The spider draws near. The sparkle dims as the light tunnels, tighter and tighter. The legs slowly crawl, like a machine, patient and determined. Red twinkles in the spider’s eye. The light is gone.

A glossy hue paints the room red. 1:42. He lies there, sticky from sweat, in a puddle, bound, reaping what was sowed. What was taken. What was bestowed.

Silence. Pain. Silence. Ringing. Piercing. Silence. Floating. Silence.

Colors rise and fall like ocean waves, secrets kept rising from their graves. Visions blur, the shadows confer. The spider draws near.

Sticky red paint drips slowly down the walls. The force pulls in. His eyes, rapid, can’t stop. Flashes of lavender, smells of melodies, clouds of hope that hold the stars. Dark. Black. Nothing.

A stranger sits in the mist. A shadow lays on the sand. He’s been here before but can’t get any closer. The air is tense, tightening with every step. The mist and dust, like smoke. A hand lifts to show a finger, pointing back where he came. To the darkness. He must go back. The sand begins to sink. He must go back. His legs are stuck. His eyes can’t see. He must go back. The mist turns white, then red. The sand turns wet. He must go back.

The room is darker than before, redder than before. 2:07. He lies still, afraid to go back, afraid to move on, stuck on the edge of both. He can’t move. He doesn’t want to; he just wants it to end. The light in the corner beckons, brighter than before. He needs it. But how? Two fierce, piercing red dots stare, haunting and inviting.

He reaches towards the spider.

Sounds of madness scream through the cave, webs dripping from the sides. Red dots everywhere. He feels his chest. In. Out. In. Out. He sees red. In. Out. In. Out. Blinding red. In. Out. In. Out. He turns.

And runs.