#playing along

SNIPPET-

The next time you open your eyes, you are floating.

A rip between your consciousness, soul, and body. Spliced into three separate entities. Overlapping in vivid hues.

Blurry edges of nothingness dance along the limits of your vision. Blotches of ink that clear into washes of color, painting your surroundings. The cheesy, eighties aesthetic of the mall. The bright, rainbow walls and floors of the SuperStar Daycare. The dark, dreary depths of the maintenance tunnels.

The walls of each location pulse. In a slow, steady tempo. As if breathing — moving — thousands of strands writhing and glowing with neon blood flow.

A blink.

It's all gone.

A void surrounds you.

You stand in a harsh spotlight that cuts through the infinite darkness. The circle of light means safety. A red light holding you hostage. Knuckles whitening, waiting for a flash of green that never comes.

Something crawls overtop your shoes. Intertwining with the laces, braiding together.

When you look down, cords slither. Shifting, never still for a second. Wrapping and winding up your legs like a sentient ivy. The cables slip beneath your flesh, peeling between sinew and bone. Filling in the space where veins should be, connecting your organs to form a circuit.

It doesn't hurt.

You wonder why it doesn't hurt. You can't see it, but you can feel it — wires wrapping the walls of your heart. Beginning to constrict, applying pressure, squeezing out the last pumps of blood.

It really, really, should—

Hurt.