2 where?

The young boy's eyes open, unlike before not welcomed by the bright hospital light but rather by pitch black darkness. The darkness is to the extent that it's impossible to distinguish even the faintest of shapes. It is everything and everywhere, deeper than any dark he had experienced. It was as if it has always been dark and forever will be. Immediately the boy begins to panic unable to distinguish this from real life or a vivid nightmare. He feels his chest rapidly go up and down, his heart pumping faster than it ever has before.

Everything was dark, everything was unfamiliar... Everything had changed. His breath, the feeling of clenching his hands... This was more than a vivid nightmare. Instinctually a feeling of dread and inevitably came over the boy. A feeling matching that of when the doctors told him the news. The feeling of fate grabbing a hold of his life and squeezing it with no mercy.

"What's going on?" The young near formless boy asks, his body mixing with the surrounding darkness as his voice does not carry any distance, dispersing before it even left his mouth. Pure unfiltered stillness replies whilst he rapidly blinks his eyes. Trying to find anything at all, anything that does not resemble the pure darkness he has woken up in.

'No, no, no, no, no, no." He mutters, again his voice not carrying any weight. Words barely leave his lips as they immediately disappear.

"HELLO!!!!!!"

"Anyone there!!!!"

"Please…."

"I don't want to be alone anymore."

"MOM, DAD!!"

"ANYONE!!!!!"

"…" The boy's attempted yells filled with emotion still unable to leave his mouth. Nothing coming out as nothing responds.

The boy thrown in the pitch black dark goes to bite his nails, bringing his hands closer to his lips. They touch as he tries to bite, his hand seemed longer or perhaps his mouth and tongue became shorter, he couldn't tell. The unfamiliarity making him refrain from continuing to attempt to bite his nails.

'What is this? What is this?' He continues to ask himself as he simply stands there. Unable to move and nearly unable to breathe. Even the most simple of survival instincts feel estranged and hostile toward his existence.

'Is this another one... But I begged... I begged so many times to you.' He thinks as he looks up, the same all-consuming dark before him. 'Am I dead… Was I a bad person? Is that why?' Unable to even remotely understand he continues to look up, the amount of thoughts running through his head should hurt but it doesn't. even his panic becoming something strange and distant, something alien.

"I refuse... I refuse! I've done enough! I'm not a toy, not some sick experiment... I will decide my fate for myself! So if you're listening or watching then get lost! I'll be just fine without you as I've always been!" The recently turned adult stands up and walks in a random direction. Each step is the same as the other, weird and unusual. there was no change in vision, no change in sound. There was no change.

He continues to walk. Unwilling to stop, only moving forward. Taking another step, the desire to scream returns. With another step, the feeling of fear returns, a willingness to cry nearly forming tears in his eyes. At some point, he wished to slam his fist against the ground… Sometime later he wanted to laugh at the absurdity. Everything came and went, and it stayed away.

He knew more than a day had passed but yet there was no thirst, no hunger. Only the wish to leave this place remained. Only that sheer will remained, the rest was taken. He did not see it or feel it but he knew... "It" is taking him, he is losing himself to "it."

The longer he stayed in the dark, the more "it" took. He knew but was unable to realize. When would the madness kick in? "It" already did, but "it" was seeped from his essence.

When would he tire? He always had but "it" was taken.

The feeling of this new life, the harsh breaths, and the beating heart had grown quiet. He knew... So why not resist? Ah, that had gone a little while ago.

What was a while ago? He didn't know anymore. A week had passed some time ago but how long ago exactly?

'I won't stop, I will not stop.' The shaded figure thinks whilst its own body morphs beyond what it once was. He never slept, never wished, never prayed, and never stopped tracking this endless oblivion.

What was once a body of familiar sickly flesh had transformed. Instead of being apart from the dark some parts of his became one with "it." A walking near non-existence, fused with the surrounding whilst more parts form a combination the dark and the sickly flesh. Unnatural looking and transformed, a figure more resembling a nightmarish abstract painting than a human. Only the green eyes resembling pure emeralds remain cleansed from this abomination as they never close. Even in their hollow state the beautiful jewellike eyes seem to be the only humane aspect remaining of the walking figure.

In this illusion, this surreal landscape of nothingness the recently turned adult continues to walk. The concept of time, mortality, and even the most basic desires "taken" from his being. Driven forward by emotions that no longer matter to him, only repeating a sole sentence in his head. 'I won't stop.'

Another, another, another, another, another and another step.

Unaware, a broken vessel of the frail spirit it once possessed he continued on. Did another day pass? Maybe a week… Perhaps longer. Does it really matter when one can no longer conceive it?

Edwin Gwayne or whatever it was that remained, continued forward. Not once has he looked back, not once had he prayed for forgiveness, not once had he spoken. His idle diverse thoughts turning into a parrot, as if a second consciousness is begging him to continue this endless trip in this forsaken place.

As wonder turned into mindless wander, he continued walking in nothing, wanting nothing and wishing for nothing.

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