The descent

I wake up. Did I really wake up? I don't see anything, no outlines of anything, no forms; it's just pitch black. I rub my eyes; not sunlight, moonlight, or even starlight has ever reached this place. I scramble around on the floor and find a flashlight in the darkness. As I fumble with the flashlight and finally get it on, I scan the room I find myself in. I must have fallen asleep down here, or passed out. I also find my notebook next to me. I look at the last entry.

“It corrodes and eats my true inner self, and I welcome it.”

What has gotten into me? As I gather all the items in my surroundings: the flashlight, my notebook, and a water bottle, I decide to try to find my way out of the structure. I look around at the walls. I know this room, the inscriptions, the mural on the far left wall. I know it very well. The way out should just be a couple of right turns after exiting the room. Luckily enough, I didn't end up too far deep in. I exit the room and turn left. I go straight down the hall for a while. I want to leave; I want to get out of this place and never come back. So why am I not going towards the exit?

After about three hours, I make it to the third level. I find myself hungry, my stomach hurts, my mouth is dry, and I have finished all the water in my bottle, yet I keep going. The world seems to go nowhere but down. The eyes of the people on the walls follow me. I swear they are watching. I swear they are; I really can, but are they really? Mumbling to myself, I scream out for help to no one. As I walk on and on, my flashlight flickers and turns off. I stumble through the dark in silence that is reminiscent of that in an empty church. The only sounds are my footsteps and my breath and the beating of my heart. Everything is gone; it is just me. The feeling of being swallowed up by a megastructure, a place so big and inescapable that just the thought sends a shiver down my spine. The familiar feeling of being eaten alive, corroded, seeps through my flesh.

I think I am on the 7th floor. I feel my lungs full of the powder from the gray plant. I cough and clear my throat, but it is the only thing keeping me from suffocating. I don't know how I got so far down here. I can't see. I'm hearing my own thoughts. The powdery substance of the thing growing down here is all over. My hands are dry, covered in this flour-like textured substance, like I rolled around in chalk. My limbs feel heavy, like wading through water, and I walk on; I walk on without a destination in mind.

At level 10 I find myself in a large open room. In the center of the room I feel a staircase leading down; no more winding paths, no more tunnels. I don't see the staircase, I just know the staircase is there. I can feel it; the orb is calling to me. I hear a faint voice, as if spoken from underwater. A voice that sounds familiar, a voice that I know so very well.

“Why are you here? What are you doing?”

I ignore it, it must be my imagination, like the eyes, still following me. The voice repeats itself.

“Why are you here? What are you doing?”

I continue down into the staircase. I can't stand the voice. Who is speaking?

“Who are you? What are you?”

I call out into the darkness. The voice doesn't answer. I feel the staircase, I feel the eyes on me, I feel the lack of all things familiar, like I have stumbled into another world. My eyes play tricks on me; I see the shadows of figures, like humans but slightly too tall, with arms slightly too long, walking alongside me. But I can't see shadows; there is no light to cast one.

I march on for a long time, an indefinite length of time. It could have been hours, minutes, days, or months. The voice calls out to me.

“Are you alone? Did you bring anyone with you?”

I walk down the spiral staircase deeper.

“Are you by yourself? Do you feel lonely? Or do you feel like others are with you?”

He asks me a question, but his voice seems to be telling me something, rather than just asking a question.

“Who are you?”

I ask. The voice doesn't answer for a second.

“I have been with you for a long time; how can I answer your questions if you don't answer mine?”

The voice replies to me, mocking me. I hate it. I hate its way of speaking.

“I hate you, what do you want from me?”

I don't know why I ask the question. I already know the answer. The voice wants nothing, it doesn't need anything. It already has me. The voice of the structure speaking to me makes my heart beat faster.

“Are you looking for the orb? Is that why you are here?”

Each time it speaks it sends a shiver down my spine.

“You know your companions came too for the orb”

“What companions? I came by myself”

My voice stutters.

“Only me, I'm the only one.”

“Why do you lie to yourself? Or do you truly believe…”

The voice trails off. Once again left in silence. The staircase winds down. My stomach hurts, aching for food. My mouth is dry, lips bleeding and cracked. I think only of going further down. I want to get to the bottom, I need to get to the bottom. I cough and I wheeze, trying to grasp every last fading breath, for breathable air is scarce. I cry, but no tears roll down my cheeks. I see nothing, but I feel each step; I feel the walls and the straight, perfect descent of the staircase down into the void. The staircase is like one with me, the stone chiseled and shaped one with my flesh. The staircase, as I descend, is the only thing with me. I am alone; no one, no thing will keep me company besides the voice. With every step I take, I feel my limbs getting weaker, I can feel my skin drying up, corroding and falling off. I wonder if I am corroding, being eaten by the structure, just like the structure depicted. I imagine my limbs, one by one, falling off to reveal my core as it gets swallowed by the structure.

“Who are you?”

As I ask the voice, I dread the answer, yet I get none. The staircase ends in a chamber. I can see in this chamber. The chamber is round and empty, besides for a table or pedestal in the middle. The walls have no carvings, the floor has no marks, the entire room is free of the thing growing on the other levels. As I approach the pedestal, I see an orb. The orb is glowing slightly, which is probably the reason I can see. My eyes see something for the first time in so long. I draw near to the orb. The glowing light draws me into a trance. As I hold the orb in my hands and stare into my reflection, I see the reflection of my peeling, dying skin, my corroded face, covered in a black rust, and my cold, lifeless eyes on the shiny surface. I ask once more.

“Who are you?”

The voice, my voice, answers me.

“I am you”

I watch as the reflection of my mouth moves on the surface of the orb.