Nothingness. Or is everything compressed in a way that it seems like they aren't even there? Is everything in fact nothing, and that it's all in front of your eyes but they're all covered by your blind spot that all you see is a wide plain, as wide as the eye can see, until it reaches the horizon and maybe still continues to a point that your mind cannot decipher; as if you're looking at a galactic filament and realise how inferior you are in the world... Your mind refuses to accept that reality, you shut it all away and you see nothing. A delusion really, just a delusion.
You walk around, your shoes clicking and echoing (Do you even have shoes on? Are you even walking? Or just gliding?). Your eyes look at the emptiness, at the purity of it all, the white walls that stretch to no end, the walls... The walls are huge and towering, like mountains but at the same time meager, perishable, you shiver at the thought yet you know not why. You struggle and you quiver to try and make sense of this whole new depth of perception but you fail, it seems that the harder you try, the more complicated it seems.
So, there's a point when you stop thinking, stop trying, stop making things more complicated then it already fucking is. Everything starts to materialise, the walls crumble and fall, it's a horrific phase when everything is destroyed, everything disintegrates... And everything appears. No more blind spots, no more delusions. Just reality. Right to your face. You enter the World's End.
You scream out of terror at first, oh yes, you cry for Mommy, you close your eyes, trying in futile to shut the doors of your mind, to run, to ignore... Yet a part of you forces you to accept, telling you that once the gates are open, it can never be closed again, that the gatekeepers are fuckers to begin with, reckless too. You brought this upon yourself, you have to handle the consequence.
Slowly now. Slowly.
Worlds collide and fuse together, creating a plane of existence for beings foreign, cities appear; Necropolises, Empires, Fairy Land, Mars, Ryleh, Troy, Innsmouth... It all came out. Your dreams and nightmares. All laid out. You see gods and mortals, celebrities and beggars, all there in their outfits, all conversing, all oblivious to your presence. You see Zeus and Dream making a deal, Azatoth sleeping as usual, John Constantine and Loki having a cup of tea (Constantine has no idea what is in his tea and you find no reason to tell him.), Stephen King meeting his creations and in all this confusion, you failed to notice Cthulhu walking - Gliding? Or was he swimming, you couldn't tell - up to you.
"Got a fag?" he - or is it a she? Or an it? - inquired. You choke. The Great Old One asking you for a fucking cigarette. He had a blindfold over his eyes. You thank god for those little details He remembered to add. In all the time you were on the verge of having an anaphylactic shock, Cthulhu must have frowned - Or something, your brain wasn't exactly in perfect working conditions.
"You don't have to worry, it's not for me, it's for uh... Shoggoth... Really, I swore off cigarettes a millenia ago..." He/She/It seemed anxious. Right then you saw Thor sneering. Maybe it wasn't directed to you because Cthulhu quietly took his leave while muttering curses.
You tried to digest what happened but you can't. It's all too fucking absurd, too fucking far fetched that all this seems to be a dream.
"It's not." A voice chirped from behind. You turned around and came face to face with a fucking spider. A fucking spider. That can fucking talk.
"What?"
"All this, it's not a dream." All you can think of is where the fuck is the Spider's mouth.
"Then... what is it?"
"It's not what, you pathetic little mortal, it's where."
"So... Where am I."
"Glad you asked, been waiting for ages for someone stupid enough to walk in here without knowing jackshit about this place. I guess I should be the first one to welcome you to World's End."
"World's what?"
"End. World's fucking end. I'm Anansi if you really must know." Right then, he lit a cigar. You watch this with a fair amount of amusement and then you realised that you have no idea how it happened. "This is where we all wait for the storm to end."
"What storm? There wasn't even a fucking storm to begin with. And how the fuck can you even do that?" You stare at the orifice where smoke was pouring out. It was both disturbing and amazing at the same time.
"Of course there was. Storms come in millions of ways, from the sky, from the earth, in your dreams, and in your particular case, you created the storm in your mind. You triggered this. That's what made the Gatekeepers send you here. You know, for your own protection. Or so they say. Lazy son of a bitches all of them. I got sent here for no apparent reason. That being said, I've some urgent matters to attend to, hope you get comfy here mate, it's gonna be a long wait, I'll tell you that." He scuttled away, a trail of smoke following him like will-o-wisps.
Mouth gaping open, you start walking.
Prophets preached and sinners laughed. Tentacles and bubbles coexist, Lucifer and Gabriel had a couple of shots of whiskey and checked into a motel in a drunken stupor.
And all the while you're asking yourself what the fuck is happening.
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