I want you to smell it.
Breathe it in deep, so it touches the very hollows of your lungs.
I want it to seep through the walls of your lungs into your pumping blue veins and warm blood.
I hope you like it.
I want you to smell my fear.
This black thing inside of me that expands each time I shine a light on it.
I want you to breathe it in.
Sadistic? You must be kidding.
Try it first.
There you go...
Do you feel it now, starting near your heart?
Do you feel the abyss growing, grabbing, stabbing, systematically shutting down every cell it touches?
Suck it in deeper.
Take a long draw.
Your lungs are feeling a little tight now, aren't they?
Squeezing, crushing the fresh April air into pulp.
But wait, it's not over.
How does it taste?
Can you feel it crawling back up your pathway?
My fear, it left a taste on my tongue, a black mark.
It never goes away.
You feel it now, don't you?
Don't panic now. It's normal.
I felt that way too, a while ago.
That screaming sensation within my chest, it wouldn't leave me.
It just came up my throat, onto my tongue, and it burned.
The fear burns, my dear.
Did you not know that?
It burns furiously into your tongue, the flame licking up your insides.
Fire and darkness.
Then the all-consuming fear.
There you lie slumped.
But I'm warning you.
You'll feel it every second of your life.
It never goes away.
That dark black fear deep inside your cavernous self.
It will stick to your bones and marrow, cling to your heartstrings and lean.
It will drive you to the edge of insanity and to the seat of the Merciful.
And always you will want what I wanted.
I wanted you to smell it.
I still want you to smell it.
Smell my dark hollow fear into the deep of your soul.