Follow the Path of
And from the Darkness Springs the
World of Dreams
HIS HAND PROBED the
surrounding darkness and found
searing heat, the flesh on his
fingers scorched beyond salvation.
But he could not see. Shrieks of
agony invaded his senses; the
obvious pain and torment permeated
his being, once again coloring his
world in despair.
He struggled to wake, near breathless,
determined to leave this world of
eternal darkness. By the simple act of
waking, he would be exerting control,
thus striking out against the
malevolence without a name. But in
leaving, he would be unable to put a
face on his enemy― abruptly, he received
a thought, a thought that slavered
You may not explore this world.
A pause, then apprehension. Why do I
deign to answer?
A self-doubt, a sign of weakness? Beads of sweat began to diffuse,
his body trying to follow his mind into
semi-consciousness. The sheets were
moist, this moisture too beginning to
dissipate. Still he did not wake, where
others would have screamed into
wakefulness. Instead, he fell deeper
into sleep. Where are you? Who are
you? WHAT are you? You who foment such
pain; the thoughts stabbed at
An answer? No, just a feeling sent.
Who are YOU to ask?
The pain almost unbearable, he asked
again, WHAT are you?
Laughing − no not laughing − an
arrogance born of eons, the defining
quality of evil, I am the Beast.
And there it was again, a different
voice, the faint whisper of hope. Paul,
wake up. WAKE UP PAUL, you're dreaming.