The Infinite Doorway

The Infinite Doorway

I entered the dark passage and felt melancholy choke my mind. The air tasted like chalk dust, and the cement walls took on the presence of a tomb. I tried to turn back, but could not. Not when I've already begun. I felt my heart beat faster and my blood run slower. There only existed one thought to hold my mind from spilling into the abyss, and that was of the slim, blazing, vertical line of white that stretched from the floor to the heavens. It, like the walls beside me, rose to eternity, leaving no way out but onward. The white line at the end of the blackness. The veil. It's brilliance imprinted itself into my vision, as if I were staring at the sun. The sun that I wished with all my heart to be beyond that white line, but somehow I knew that it was not.

I took one scraping step.
          Nothing was there.
I took a second.
          Everything.
The dry breeze ran over my naked skin. Pushing me forward.
          I felt the world turn on its axis.
My fingers ran along the cold cement wall. They caught and bounced over the smallest irregularities.
          But I didn't know which world it was.
The sound of my breathing was muted by a great ominous humming. The air buzzed as if I was in the presence of a grand machine. It was numbing, like time was drowning.
          What do you fear, David? What do you fear?
My eyes fixated on that holy line.
          What do you fear, David? What DO you fear?
This passage felt so tight. So inevitable. My throat felt like a fish left in the beating sun; my hands like wax. Every step was a battle, my leg trembled and scuffed the hard ground, but it was a battle I was somehow not a part of. I was a spectator trapped inside of myself.
          What do you fear?
I closed my eyes and spread my arms to follow the walls. My skin glistened with cold sweat. Drawn back inside of myself, I felt safe only for a moment. I soon realized that there was no escape. Even with closed eyes, that pillar of white hung like a stigmata behind my eyelids. I was terrified.
          But of what?
I stopped. Hands at my sides. The light was brighter now. I decided to call it an infinite doorway, which seemed not far from the truth. I envisioned passing through it, a cold, tingling sensation, and my stomach twisted like a wrung towel. I heaved twice, eyes wide and glassy.
“The, the doorway.” I grunted, resuming my grueling approach. “I fear the – infinite doorway.”
          Do you fear the doorway?
“Yes!” I cried into the morbid hall. My voice was sucked up into eternity, which floated dangerously above my head. Or was I already a part of eternity?

Naked, frightened, and trapped, I approached the infinite doorway. The brighter it became, the more difficult it was to see the walls beside me. It was so bright. Never did I look behind me. It would seem I could not; not physically, nor did I desire to. The past was gone. There was only the light. And, oh, how I hated it. The humming was now of such ferocity that I feared it would rend my skin from my flesh. My terror spiraled through my consciousness until even my own name was gone. Tears ran unfettered. I was no longer man, but a bug, with no mind remaining but that of dread and dreadful obsession.
          Do you fear the doorway?
“Yes,” I whispered to the light.
I drew close, so close now, my eyes saw nothing else. The doorway, better described as a veil, hung an arm's length away. Beautiful – morbid. Brighter than the sun – taller than eternity.
          Do you fear the doorway?
I fell forward.
          Or do you fear what lies beyond it?