Time Seemed To Have Lost All Meaning.

Dean struggled against an unseen force, his body immobilized as if bound by invisible chains. Panic surged through him when the glowing eyes transformed into gaping maws, descending rapidly towards him.

"Aaargh!!!" His voice cracked under the strain of sheer terror. Instinctively, he raised his arms in an attempt to shield himself.

MUNCH!!!

MUNCH!!!!

His body convulsed with each sickening bite. His eyes bulged, bloodshot veins tracing their way across his sclera, his mouth wide in an endless scream.

"AAAAAAAAGHHHHH!" Yet, this wasn't the end, if nothing, it had only started. The pain only continued to grow, it grew unceasingly. The maws gnawed faster, faster and faster. And all Dean could do was scream and scream continuously.

AAAAAGGHHHH!!! It reached a point where his surroundings were covered in blood, and he couldn't even identify or feel himself again. How many parts of his body had been torn or ripped off his body? How many organs? Livers? Tendons?

At this point, he could no longer keep count. Yet somehow he was still alive. Somehow he was still kicking and breathing. Then, just as suddenly, the gnawing stopped.

What if this is all an illusion? The thoughts crept into his tortured mind, a way of salvation amidst this endless torment. Maybe none of this was real. Perhaps it only existed in some twisted corner of his subconsciousness.

With a surge of desperate hope, Dean shut his eyes, willing himself to believe it wasn't real. His heart raced, the drumbeat of fear overpowering his senses, but he clung to the idea. He clung desperately, holding onto it with everything he had got.

"It's all in your head," he whispered to himself. "Just an illusion."

But the pain refused to fade. Each stab, each drill into his psyche was as real as the cold water crawling over his skin.

Stay calm Dean. Just stay calm.

He repeated the mantra until it was the only tether holding him to reality. He descended deeper into himself, into a space that was numb to the horror outside. The torment stretched on, minutes feeling like hours.

When the water stilled, he dared not move. The unseen predators were gone, but the dread lingered like a shadow.

Eyes still closed, he remained in that fragile cocoon of consciousness. He couldn't trust his senses, and he also couldn't yet trust that the horror had passed either.

Time slipped through his fingers. Seconds? Hours? He couldn't say. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, he breathed a sigh of relief before opening his eyes.

He now stood at the entrance of a door. When did I get here? He thought, dread and confusion creeping in.

Scratching the the back of his head, he thought hard on it, yet he wasn't able to come up with a logical explanation.

Well, except for a fact that chilled his bones to the core. Everything he had seen, felt and touched so far had been nothing more than mere illusions.

At the thought of this, his heart thumped violently, dread creeping in. He took in a gulp of saliva, feeling a cold wind running down his spine. Taking one final look at the building, he hesitated slightly before opening the door.

The moment he closed it behind him, he bolted.

He didn't care where he was running to- only that he needed to get away.

As he fled, the world warped behind him. The house, its looming presence, receded into the ground, swallowed by an unseen force.

His eyes widened, but he didn't stop. He ran, the cobblestone streets echoing his frantic steps.

RUUUN!!! He kept running, his lungs hurts like hell. Yet he still kept going. He had finally had enough of all these illusions and stuff. It was already taking over his mind, slowly but surely.

He needed to run away from all this and be as far away as possible. And most importantly, he needed to find other humans.

Or…no no…. definitely no. Despair and desperation flashed within the depths of his eyes for a second there. He tried to convince himself that they are certainly other people around here.

I can't be the only one… right? At the thought of this, cold chilling winds ran down his spine, as he ran along the cobblestone in search of the so-called nearby humans.

He ran with every ounce of strength contained within him; slowly, he lost sense of time; slowly, he lost the sense of feeling, and slowly, he lost the sense of life itself.

He couldn't feel the passage of time, the sense of emotions, nor the sense of life itself. He couldn't hear his heartbeat, his frantic footsteps, the despair flashing within his eyes every single moment. He could feel them no longer.

He had no idea how long he had been running for exactly. What he was running from. Where he was running to. Where exactly is this place?

"Please someone anyone!!" Dean called out, he yelled and screamed. Every fiber of his muscles giving in. Soon, he started to lose hope, he started to cry, and eventually, he cried no more.

He continued running, his pants weaving into the sullen atmosphere, every intake of air as precious as gold is to a nobleman, women to a flirtatious prince and power to a power hunger.

His eyes turned red until they became inferno-like, his blood boiled, akin to a rampaging tsunami. And with the passage of time, even his rampaging blood ceased to flow. His blood had slown down incredulously, every step he took felt like he was stretching himself, his body… his being beyond its very limits.

His eyes grew blurry, his legs grew chaotic, his hands the very extension of feebleness. At a point in time, he lost sense of the world around him. All he could see around him were chaotic faces, worms writhing in and out of their dark crimson faces, eyes that told stories of untold horrors, and bodies that screamed of the extremity of monstrosity. Their shapes wrapping into something… Things unknown, their morphology wrapping into something indescribable and indiscernible. His mind screamed in horror and despair, fear settling within him. His eyes flashing with a slight tinge of flickering hope.

But strangely enough, they seemed to be an invisible force that protected him from all these various supernatural forces that encompass the very aspects of life itself.

How long has it been? He had no idea. His mind seemed to be keeping records of his surroundings, yet it seemed his body…no, it seems he was too weak to accept them. He was too fragile and feeble to accept what he truly is.

Time. Time seemed to have lost all meaning.

Time seemed to have been lost in this never-ending darkness of abyssal torment.

His very being screamed to be saved, screamed to be out of this weird place.

He wanted to survive… he wanted to see the outside world. With no memory whatsoever, he still had to figure out who he is. Who are my parents? Where do I come from? Who am I?

Various chaotic thoughts ran into his subconsciousness, hitting hard and fast.

Brutal and unforgiving!

In this never-ending world of sullenness and desolation… Time seemed to have lost all meaning as Dean slowly descended into profanity.