Perspective
He stumbled forward a bit, ears ringing as the blow he just took rattled his mind and blurred his vision. He needed someplace to hide from this relentless assault and he needed to find it quick. With the enemy momentarily distracted by their partner, he took this as his one chance to go for cover. Spotting a hole, though more like a crack, in an otherwise solid wall, he crawled into the dark and ominous space. He had to regain composure, evaluate his wounds and form a plan if he was going to survive. Expecting to be enveloped in a secure spot, he was shocked to find himself sliding down a smooth, curved surface to be deposited in what seemed to be a vast and dark room. It’s a trick, his instincts told him. It was yet another trap set by the enemy to capture him, quite possibly torture him and leave him for dead. I will not lose this fight. Curling up next to the wall, he began to assess his injuries. Besides the pounding headache, his vision was coming back and with a little time, he thought he would be one hundred percent again. He silently chastised himself for allowing the enemy to get that close. Never again, he thought, I will be more diligent from now on. My cockiness almost got me killed.
Letting his legs sink him to the floor, he closed his eyes to think. I’ll just rest for a bit. I’ll rest and regain my strength and be good as new in just a bit. He seemed to shrink and melt into his surroundings as fatigue took over his body and he fell to the sleep of the dead.
When he opened his eyes again he saw only black. How long was I out? Looking around his hidey-hole, he saw only more darkness, vast and black. Not wanting panic to set in, he tried to calm himself with steady breathing and think once more. What am I going to do? I have no way of knowing if they are still out there. I have nothing to defend myself and no way to signal for help. Granted, I’m usually better at fleeing than fighting, but I can’t even see where I’m going. Rubbing his face slowly, hesitantly because of the slight pain still lingering, he began to form a plan. As he did so, he noticed the rancid smell of decaying flesh and hoped it wasn’t close by. He knew that smell. It was such a sickly sweet stench there was no mistaking it. It wasn’t some animal corpse rotting as he wished it to be, it was flesh, like his own and this made him uneasy.
Without warning, from out of the blackness came the sound of someone approaching. He held his breath as he listened closely so that he could discern something, anything, about what was coming his way. The battle of life had taught him to always be prepared, especially in times like these. Loud, heavy footsteps echoed in the darkness before stopping somewhere near, somewhere close to where he had secreted himself away. Must. Not. Be. Detected. Of course, if this is one of their traps, they already know I’m here. He tried to remain motionless; his breath held and mind going eighty miles an hour. Suddenly, a clicking noise followed by the sound of a strong hum, backed up by a weak buzzing. Then, a bright white light, a white light as intense as a nuclear explosion flashed into existence, so intense in fact that it rendered him blind. The light encompassed everything and anything. It was brighter than anything he had ever seen. Fear surged through his body with electrical speed. What is going on? The strange and unfamiliar surroundings held him rigid with alarm. It was becoming hard for him to keep his wits about him. He wiped his arm across his face where sweat had begun to bead. Is it getting warmer? Or is it my fear causing my temperature to rise? I have got to keep it together.
The buzzing noise he had heard moments earlier began to get a little louder. It is getting hotter, he thought. More sweat beaded on his body and he took notice that the footsteps had stopped. His quick assessment left him with two things; either they were drowned out by the hum and buzzing or the enemy wasn’t moving. If the temperature keeps rising at this rate, I’m going to burn up. The thought caused a chill to run the gamut of his body despite the encroaching heat. I have to get out of here even if it means blowing my cover, I have to run. Running is a hard thing to do when blind and he ran straight into a wall. Is this infernal light ever going to go away? Falling hard to the ground beneath him, he quickly picked himself up and took off again. Seconds later, he smacked into another wall of similar hardness. Taking a few moments longer this time as the blow had rendered him momentarily stunned; he picked himself up again and began to move forward. I’ve got to regain control, this place, this light, is causing me to act irrationally. He knew that was a sure way to die. Feeling his way along the wall, still blind and the temperature rising rapidly, he began to lose hope, if only for a moment. I will not give up. I will not die so easily. “Do you hear me? I will not let you win without a fight!” he shouted to his nemesis in the blindness of this bright, ever hotter world.
As the heat began to sap his strength, he ran full force towards nothing in particular and in a strange twist of fate, ran into someone. Fear prickled his being again as he realized this was the source of that horrid stench. A body lay face up beneath him. Since he no longer possessed the luxury of sight, he felt the corpse and realized from its state of decomposition it had been dead for at least a week. He also noticed that it was burned, cooked almost, and he knew at that moment if he didn’t get out of there, his body would be dealt a similar fate. Fumbling around, he detected another body, a fresher one that had most recently just given up its fight for life. What kind of people are these? And what kind of trap… what kind of torture prison did I fall into? Pulling himself up onto unsteady legs, the heat ever more intense, he moved slowly feeling for a way out. The high temperature was pulling him down. He wanted to give up. This was too much, too big a battle for someone who can’t see. His skin began to burn and singe a little making him nauseous. He ran blindly, anywhere and everywhere. Hitting walls, falling, getting up again, he kept on fighting for his life. Bruised, broken and panicking as his skin began to peel, his will to live gave him a little adrenaline. With one last surge of energy, he flung himself up and forward in the hopes of breaking through the walls that held him. In the fuzzy semi coma the impact and rising heat had put him in; he thought he heard voices below him somewhere in the radiant white killing brightness. Is it the angels come to take me away, I am dying aren’t I? Though blind, he could see the dark outline, shadows, of his captors who held him prisoner in this death trap. His world began to slowly spin counterclockwise as he lost consciousness.
“It’s about time you cleaned those dead bugs outta the light, they’re gross,” the woman said to the man as he unscrewed the glass cover from the light fixture, “and hang some fly strips or something,” she continued, “I’m getting tired of swatting them all the time.”
“I wanted to wait ‘til they were all dead,” the man replied, “Look, there’s still one buzzing around in there. Oh, wait, no, he just keeled over.”
“What amazes me is how they get in there in the first place, I mean, I never see them go in, there’s nowhere for them to go in. I only ever see their dead bodies silhouetted between the light bulb and light cover. And why don’t they go out the same way they got in?” the woman puzzled to her mate.
“Insects are stupid babe, otherwise, why would they let themselves die in the light like that? I mean, c’mon, why they would even go in there in the first place is a mystery to me,” replied the man.
