Finding the Mark

by Plucky-the-Pony

When the Light Fades to Gray

... Floating... Light... Weightless... Bright... Empty... Vibrant... Sensations were limited. All around the being of "self" was nothing but light, and the only sensation of "self" there was was the feeling of weightlessness, floating in the void of bright white light. There was no sounds, no smells, no taste, no touch, but the feeling of floating, no sight but the vibrancy that was all around, above and below. Identity of self was also limited. Who am I? Where am I? Those were constant in a world of consistency. They seemed to prove that nothing changes, at least, not here, but one day, change did come, and it came in thought. Am I the Light? Am I the Weightless? These questions, the ones with no answers, drifted like fog, yet fog-less. Spiraling. Down, down, down. Weightless became weighted. Light began to fade until all was a muted gray...

It was so dark, yet not really dark. Darker then I had expected, as I couldn't see anything clearly, but then again, I couldn't see much in a place brilliantly white. Everything was gray, but I can start to see the differences in the shades of gray. There was depth to this grayness, and the longer I looked, studying the tiniest, fuzziest muted detail, the objects of my seeing automatically filtered itself. A sudden and minutest second of darkness then gray again. I froze. Daring not to move. The grayness was okay, but the darkness was scary... Yet not... In the darkness it was similar to the Light in that there was nothing to see, nothing to differentiate from one to the other. The grayness was a new thing, and an equally scary thing, but it was an intriguing thing.

Filtering again. These sudden flashes of darkness eased the ache of the entity of sight, and with each passing I could see clearer. Fuzzy things began to sharpen. Textures began to appear where once it was all haze. That is when I noticed a new sensation. I could feel. The softness underneath, the warm skin-like sheath on top, the way the dust ticked my nose as I breathed... And smell! Dust had the faintest earthy tone, but above the smell of dust was the pungent smell of anti-septic, the warmer smell of fresh laundry, and the soft smell of cotton. None of these things I recognized, but as I moved, so painstakingly slow, I could spot the sources of these smells. Each slow motion brought with it a wave of pain and discomfort. I didn't like it, and despite my curiosity of this new world around me, I shut my eyes to it. Seeking the safety of the darkness and its solitude, and, embracing it, I slept...

Author's Note:

Just want to add that this story doesn't start with gore, that'll happen in later chapters. For now it'll be short, pleasant chapters.

Comments

[Dark Nightshade]

Wow, interesting start.

[Plucky-the-Pony]

6887650 Thanks. I wanted to try to bring a fresh perspective to this old "cliche"