The rhythmic beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor had been the soundtrack to his lonely life, a constant reminder of the sterile box he inhabited. Then, a long, mournful BEEEEEEEEEP replaced it. He remembered a cold rush, the panicked murmurs of nurses, and a crushing wave of regret. Not for a life unlived, perhaps, but for something far simpler, far more poignant: he hadn't seen the sun in weeks. The fluorescent hum of the hospital ceiling had been his sky, the peeling paint his horizon. That thought, a searing pang in his chest, was the last thing he truly remembered before the darkness consumed him. He'd been alone then, as he had been for most of his life within those antiseptic walls. His parents, who had left him there years ago after his chronic illness became apparent, were just fading memories now, distant figures swallowed by his sickness and the cold, clinical reality of his existence.
But darkness, he quickly learned, wasn't empty. It was a vast, suffocating canvas, devoid of up or down, forward or back. There was no sensation of a body, no feeling of breath, just an encompassing, silent void. Panic, a frantic bird, beat against the cage of his non-existence. He tried to call out, but no sound escaped. He tried to move, but there was nowhere to go. This was it, then. The endless night he'd ironically craved during his sleepless hospital nights had finally arrived, and it was infinitely more terrifying than he'd imagined.
Then, they appeared. Two points of light, crimson and intense, piercing the absolute blackness. They weren't just glowing; they were watching. A chill that had no physical source snaked through his formless being. These were not stars, nor reflections. These were eyes. Enormous, ancient, and filled with an unsettling intelligence that seemed to plumb the very depths of his non-existent soul. He couldn't discern a face, a shape, anything but those two burning orbs, vast as distant suns.
The red eyes remained fixed on him, unblinking, unmoving. He felt no warmth from them, only a profound, almost crushing, sense of scrutiny. Was this judgment? Purgatory? Or something far stranger? The regret about the sun faded, replaced by a new, chilling fear. He had wished for light, for warmth, for the world beyond the hospital walls. But this… this was not what he had envisioned. This was a gaze from beyond, a silent question in a place where no answers seemed to exist.
As the crimson gaze held him, an impossible sensation began. Not pain, but a deep, resonant hum, originating from… nowhere, and yet everywhere at once. It vibrated through the very essence of his being, a low, ancient song that spoke of impossible distances and forgotten times. He felt something stirring, not within him, but around him, a latent potential in the very fabric of the void. It was as if the space itself was being prepared, stretched, waiting for an unseen catalyst.
The immense red eyes across the void did not change, did not react, yet he sensed… a shift. A subtle acknowledgment, perhaps. The overwhelming scrutiny lessened, replaced by something akin to a silent, profound understanding. It was as if they had merely been waiting, assessing, and now, a decision had been made.
The void around him began to shimmer, not with light, but with an unfurling of unseen energy. It twisted, pulled, and stretched. The silent hum intensified, becoming a rising crescendo that filled the non-space. He felt a dizzying, accelerating sensation, as if he were being compressed and then flung through an unseen tunnel, faster than thought, faster than light. The immense red eyes remained, burning bright, until the very last moment, before the darkness finally dissolved into a blinding, overwhelmin of pure, raw light.
And then, nothing. Not darkness, but an absolute, serene cessation of all sensation, all thought, all being.