The Darkness, the spreading pool of impossible blackness, nothingness, the state of non-existence, non-life, anti-life, the self-aware void of being, reached out for her, claimed her, washed over Gale and chilled her down to her very soul. A cold that somehow was not a physical sensation, yet so deep, so profound, she could not imagine anything ever feeling colder. This is what it means to not exist, she said to herself. This is what it means to die, to truly die, to utterly cease to be. This is entropy. This is ruin. This si the corruption of the grave.
Her body went numb. All sight and sound were lost, all others senses gone. Just the cold remained. Gale knew then, all too well, what death must be like. But she wasn’t dead. She felt herself sinking into hopeless, endless horror, grief, fear. Yet there came no oblivion to offer her release, no termination of her being to end her torment. No, Gale now understood that something existed far worse than simple death, far worse than anyone’s most dire conceptions of death. For the first time, Gale experienced the Darkness. Hope abandoned her, and she surrendered herself over to absolute despair.
Until she heard, somewhere in the void, Brian’s voice.