The night sky above cocooned the man in a curtain of black. Microscopic shards of sand crept and crawled around and in between his toes. The cold drained into his throat and pierced through his chest as he took short, sharp breaths. Breaths only the spreading cancer infecting his lungs would allow. Hairs on his arms and nape of his neck rose to attention like a crowd of soldiers outside of the morning barracks. Frigid injections shot into his chattering teeth, feeling as if they’d crack and shatter with each rapid collision. Crashing waves of black rose and grew towards the void above like a burgeoning gate of wrought iron and ink, guarding the earth’s cemetery of sludge. The gate fell forward, diving into the muck asunder, sending thousands of liquid shards and splinters. Each fragment piercing through any doomed individual attempting to enter.
As the miasmic surf surged and swept everything in its wake, he began to ponder his own death. How he hoped it would be like the calm waters of a lake. Undisturbed. Peaceful. Neutral. Another wave rose towards the sky and plunged into the raven sea that reached down and snatched him from his fleeting dreams of peace. He feared his death would be like the raging waters of the onyx ocean before him. Unpredictable. Tumultuous. Fierce. The tide continued to break like a fist slamming into a wooden table. From the table came thousands of needles and slivers that began to morph together. The angry fist erupted into two open palms with fluid fingers beckoning to him.
Perhaps he didn’t fear these waters. Perhaps its fickle and erratic nature gave him a sense of lawless comfort. The poison inside him wouldn’t behave as a lake. Impending. Looming. Waiting. He took a step forward into a new patch of sand. It was soft. Gentle, but firm enough to keep his foot from sinking. The corruption inside raged within him. Another step. He was done lingering on gentle waters, waiting for something to take him on an unsuspecting night. The icy foam now enveloped his feet. He wouldn’t have to wait out there. Out in the anarchic swell before him. No more waiting. He would be in control of his fate. No more paralysis for his imminent oblivion.
He continued to step forward until liquid fingers of black ice coiled around his decaying body. The gates of the oceanic graveyard opened and he stepped inside.
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