The unseen things... or TUT

Walking down a dark hallway with but with candle in hand, you begin to understand why silence is such a beautiful thing. You stop and stand listening to the black nothingness that surrounds you. If you blow out the candle, and let the black void of space swallow you whole, then you will understand the reason of the light. For darkness is the absents of light, not the other way: no, never the other way. Every breathe, every beat of your heart, every little thing that lives in the four wall around you; no matter where the origin of the noise might have came from, they are different and yet somehow all the same. Somehow, somewhere, Meht came to be, Meht will watch and Meht will wait for us to fall and Meht will beat us while we curl up into a ball and cry over are things which matter not in the long run. But listen now even harder, a door ever so s-l-o-w-l-y opening up. The creaking of it is a sharp sword cutting down the silence in one swift stroke. Simple distance footsteps echo like a loin roar, and they grow louder with each moment you sit and listen: as you just sit and listen. From the sounds it seems like, there are more than just two legs walking to you, there is more pair of legs walking. You grab the matches from your pocket and striking the box, you relight the candle you see a single figure, it is man like, and there are two legs walking, but where are the other step coming from? Are they coming from behind the man-like creature, or behind your very self? Conjuring up all the courage inside you turn around to see-to your relief-no one. Your relief only lasts a moment though, for the silence you once found refuge in is now back, but you don’t feel any comfort from it. Turning around again you then see the man ascend it the air and begins come closer again with phantom footsteps being heard, but what makes the noise is not seen. Your mouth opens as you try to scream, but nothing comes out but silence as you start step backwards. Backing away you can’t unfix your eyes off the man as your candle light begins to reveal the truth of what he really is. The light has now showed you the truth, but you can’t expect what you see, it’s Meht. You keep repeating to yourself, “It’s not possible!” “No, no it can’t be Meht!” As you run there is an overwhelming sense of evil being projected from behind you. The steps speed up catching up to your own, and you push your body to it’s very limit to even try to escape from this, this evil, this fear, this thing which can’t be explained. Turning your head you see six large legs behind the man thick as pillars crushing the floor underneath them. Running faster down the black empty hallway Meht is now right behind you, a sharp pain begins to spread across your back, feeling with your hand and only to see your hand soak in blood. Wanting, longing, crying to just stop this endless pain of running you cry out. Again you feel the pain across your legs which now give out; tripping, falling, lying Meht stands over you now, the man sets himself on to the floor again and opens his eye. From his back two more arms appear and pull out a Zweihänder. As he raises it into air to perform the finishing move on your life, you feel a sense of hopelessness, and you close your eyes and now wait the blade to pierce your flesh. Again there is nothing but silence again, but out of the silence a voice speaks with a commanding tongue, “This is not the end!”