"Emptiness... A deep, dark void. A fitting place for me. I am twisted, born of shallow desire. All I ever wanted was a life that held meaning. But I don't know who... or what I am. I once had a name, but it's lost to me."
"No, there were others. I was not alone. But now... there is only the cold abyss."
"I once sought much, yet what I sought, I always had. I just didn't know it. Now, I feel nothing."
"I want. I crave. I yearn..."
"But I don't know for what..."
"Will you give me what I seek, even when I know not what it is?"
A tall, handsome, and sophisticated middle-aged man adjusted his glasses with the pointer finger of his right hand. It was a smooth, practiced motion, something he did often when anxious. He didn't even realize he was doing it.
And who could blame him? He stood surrounded by an endless, inky black void, without even the faintest glimmer of light. He couldn't see his hands, his feet, or anything at all. Yet the gesture came naturally, a comforting reflex in the face of the unknowable.
Strange voices echoed around him. They spoke in words he could understand, but not truly comprehend. The voice was disembodied, scattered, as if spoken by many and yet somehow one. He had the uncanny sense that all the voices belonged to a single being, if such a thing could even be called that.
What an unsettling feeling, he thought. I don't think I'll ever get used to it.
"Very unexpected," he muttered aloud.
He hadn't expected his experiment to lead him here. The outcome had always been uncertain, but this place was beyond anything he had imagined. Was it even a place? If not for the sensation of breath filling his lungs and the awareness of his body, he might have thought himself dead.
Of course, it helped that he had already returned from this void once before. And now, he was making his second trip.
"Is there someone out there?" the man called.
"I want..."
The voice echoed the same cryptic words.
"What is it that you want?" the man asked, almost without thinking.
"Everything."
The man froze. He hadn't expected an answer, certainly not now. The voice had never responded before. Until now, he had assumed it either didn't notice him or didn't care. But something had changed. This time, something else was here.
A presence. He felt it approaching. He had no idea how he knew. He still couldn't see anything, but somehow he was sure.
"What are you?" he asked, unease creeping into his voice.
"I am the Void..."
________________________
Another day had come and gone. Work was always a drag, especially when it felt like no matter how hard you tried, nothing ever really changed. For Peter Wright, that was just normal. Ever since high school, life had been off, like a puzzle with a few pieces missing.
Peter was average. Average height, decent looks. Not in shape, but not out of it either. Just a tired adult trying to get by.
Ask anyone about him, and they wouldn't have much to say. He had a bit of stubble, and he liked it that way. He hated full beards and sideburns. Maybe his eyes stood out a little. They were hazel, shifting in color depending on the light. But that wasn't exactly unique.
"Well, once I finish up, I can head home and read that light novel I've been meaning to start," Peter muttered to himself.
He glanced at the clock.
Just a few more minutes. No one would notice if he slipped out early and made a break for the elevator.
Peter peeked over the cubicle wall. Phones rang in the background. Someone laughed a few desks down. These were his coworkers, but they might as well have been strangers.
He didn't hate people. He just didn't care anymore. Not after everything.
After the divorce. After losing custody of his daughter. He had given so much of himself, sacrificed so much, and still, it wasn't enough. He hadn't even seen his daughter in years. All he had were old baby pictures and fading memories of what she might look like now.
Peter slapped his cheeks lightly and shook off the gloom.
"Jeez... it's been almost ten years. I'm not even thirty and I already sound like a washed-up old man."
Without wasting time, he packed his bag, shut down his computer, and straightened his desk. Then, quietly, he made his way to the elevator on the twentieth floor.
The doors slid open with a loud ding. Peter stepped inside. A flicker of excitement sparked in him as he looked forward to his nightly routine. Reading, maybe a game or two, and then sleep. It wasn't glamorous, but it kept him going.
He pressed the button for the ground floor. Elevator music hummed softly. The ride was short, and the silence felt oddly peaceful.
Then the elevator slowed.
Peter frowned. Just his imagination?
Suddenly, it screeched to a halt. He lurched forward, slamming into the wall.
"What the hell!?"
Grabbing his briefcase, he jabbed at the buttons. Nothing. He pressed them all.
"This can't be happening…"
No response. No movement.
He banged on the door. Still nothing.
With a groan, Peter pulled out his phone.
No signal.
"Dammit! Ugh... fine. I'll wait. Someone'll notice. No need to panic…"
The elevator shuddered again.
"What was that?" he whispered.
It's fine. Elevators don't just drop. That never actually happens, right?
Another jolt.
Then, silence.
Then the lights went out.
Peter's breath caught in his throat. Complete darkness.
A third jolt followed. This one felt different.
Weightlessness.
The elevator screamed as it plunged into the black.
Peter screamed with it.
Everything vanished. He couldn't see, couldn't grasp what was happening. He was falling. And falling. And falling.
It didn't stop.
He screamed until he couldn't anymore. But still, he fell.
A primal fear clutched him, an ancient terror awakened in the endless abyss.
Time stretched. Or maybe it stopped.
Is this real? Am I dreaming? Am I even still alive?
No answers. Just falling.
Then, calm.
Time froze.
In the stillness, stars shimmered. A sun flared. The dark faded.
His life flickered before him. Regrets. Loss.
And then, a voice.
"I am you, and you are I..."
"We are..."
"I want. I crave. I yearn..."
"I shall be free."