With eyes wide open we can not see, for the lights are dim and the fog is thick, the voices echo like thunder in the dark recesses of the soul.
The thunder rolls over and over deafening till only the darkness remains.
A movement silent but yet so loud, freeze hold ever so still, do not move for if you should they will find you, the whispers , silent in the back of the mind, repeating over and over never stopping.
The darkness ever closing in never retreating, over welling hard to breathe, chocking never relenting cannot excape.
A Blinding light then the darkness souronds then silence.
