The Lost One
Horror Stories
Raymond's Stories
[This story was very closely based on a nightmare I had, and introduces a theme which recurs in various later stories.]

In a dark rectangular void under the surface of the dead ground we exist. We know not how we came, when we came, nor do we care. The place is dark but our eyes can see through the darkness; they can see the damp earth that forms the perfectly smooth roof, which we never touch; they can see the damp earthen floor, which we also never touch. And the four walls of fear, standing all around us, beckoning to us, daring us to approach them and fall into the terrifying abyss of the unknown. The walls also we cannot see through, but they are not solid like the floor and ceiling, between which we float from eternity to eternity. The dark enclosure in which we exist is safe and warm compared to the deep horror outside those cold boundaries. We float for a timeless time, in our place, the only place, the only existing entity. There is no outside, only the thing which is neither outside nor inside, the place of danger, the final infinity, the bottomless pit which reaches out imaginary hands to grasp our souls and pull them through the boundary into an unbearable agony from which there is no return.

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Waking from a phase of unconsciousness I realised I was dangerously close to the edge-plane. My ghastly companions were watching, uncaring for a moment, and then breaking into hideous laughter. I was caught between the two fields. I was in the midway area and it would need all my strength and power to resist the grasp of infinity and pull myself through, back to the safe barrier which was now visible as a box-shape of glaring light. I struggled, but fell, letting out a piercing scream as I plunged into the place of the damned, the endless space of eternal agony.

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In a dark rectangular void under the surface of the dead ground we exist. We know not how we came, when we came, or when we will go. Another of us has fallen into the waiting wilderness. We will see him no more. But we must not mourn. Each of us must beware that we do not fall victim to the cruel fate of he who will no longer drift with us on our endless journey to the end of time.
Horror Stories
Raymond's Stories