The Crack in the Sky

Dim soft white and amber bulbs hang from structures unknown, their light splashing onto the tops of human silhouettes. These shadows, whose features are barely illuminated, mill around aimlessly sedate and happy. Their whims and whispers pass harmlessly through the air and vanish just as quickly as they were uttered. The floor is moist black stone, and as I walk I feel as if this place has been this way and always will be. For a few moments I lose my bearings and I am lost in their tidings. I begin to worry that I will start milling about, and then I start to wonder why would that be so horrible? Why would this almost nirvana like state be so detestable?

Before I can ponder this topic something changes. I feel it first, and so does everyone else. It's in the shine of their eyes, but they only whisper louder. As the feeling gets more intense, this dread this worrisome force unknown, they just whisper louder. There is a boom and everything ceases to be as it was. The backs of the people face the uncertainty, and the soft amber and white bulbs flicker and wave. I try to fall into the lines they've made, but I find myself pushing through them and walking towards this indeterminable blackness. Most of those I brush past stay in place, but I feel some follow me. As I go my left foot almost takes one step too far before I quickly realize there is no where else to walk, just a straight drop into an area I have not foreseen. My eyes look for the specter in the distance but I can see nothing. A large flash emits behind thick puffs of dark gray, the light scrawling electric veins upon the clouds. As this happens there are audible gasps from directly behind me. I am not alone.