Steps

Another step.

I continue to climb. Another step passes my blurred vision as my legs grow heavier. A feeling of inevitability grows and compresses the air around me. A thick smell of something, something I knew but I couldn’t place embraced me, against my will and held me.

Another step passed and my vision was still blurred. Every attempt to raise my hands to my face to try and clear my eyes was in vain. As if made of concrete, my arms fell by my side un moved, unflinching at my ever-pressing ascent. I still climbed, without reason, without protest, my legs took each step as my head remained fixed on the next step ahead.

A glow, the only disruption to the darkness in which the steps were bathed, almost orange, gave me only the sight of steps. Still, my vision was blurred, still my arms were un moved and still, I climbed.

With each 10th step came a momentary respite from climbing, my body turned to the right and walked across a flat surface, still kissed by an orange glow and embalmed with that smell. That smell that I knew but couldn’t place.

Another right turn and another step, the first of ten in the same sequence. I struggled against the climb, but it was worthless, my legs felt detached, almost purposeful on their own journey, my body was merely a companion on their route.

I tried to focus on the steps ahead. Why am I here? For what purpose am I climbing?

As my vision began to obey me, the purr of the orange glow highlighted the stairwell. A flash ran down my spine, almost as if instructing me to repent against this continual climb. Dread filled me but still, I climbed.

The 10th step. Another right turn and another flat surface. The smell, the smell I knew but couldn’t place, grew thicker. Grew stronger. It enveloped my senses, I couldn’t understand it and I couldn’t place it, but I knew it.

Across the flat surface, A door. The frame was clear, but my head was unmoving. With all my might I tried to pull my head up from its fixation to the ground, but I couldn’t. I was a prisoner within my own motion. The door is now behind me, escape isn’t possible. And I begin to climb.

Another step, my legs purposefully pull me forwards. The orange glow, humming from above, continues. Another step, my arms held firmly by my side, against my will. Another step, without flinching, my head held firmly, looking just ahead. Another step. My fate was sealed. Would I forever climb, being given a hint of what is ahead, without the ability to change my course or focus further ahead? Would I be enslaved to this ever-continuing climb? Why am I here? How do I escape?

Another step.

I look to my right. It is fragmented in the deep orange glow but it’s a door. The same frame that I have just passed. Another step, it decays into the darkness.

I try to scream. Nothing. My mind urges me to make a noise, any noise, and break the deafening silence surrounding me. Still, nothing. Another step. My heart is racing. I urge my body to do something, anything to break this continuous cycle. Through every intention, I try to pull myself away, to stop my legs, to raise my arms. Nothing.

Another step.

The smell. That lingering smell in the stairwell. It was growing stronger. It was sour, it struck through me as if a knife to my chest. A strained breath entered my lungs, my nostrils tingled as they drew in the smell. I wanted to choke. My throat, my nose, my lungs, all in unison protested the air with which they were engulfed. Nothing. I had no control.

Another step.

As I reached the 10th, a sound. My only company prior had been the warm orange glow, that smell, the steps.

A harsh sound, as if two bodies of metal had embraced above me. Dread filled me. I tried to raise my head, but its aim remained true. It remained on those steps, unwavering and unchanged.

Another step.

On the flat surface. A moment’s respite. My legs stopped. My head raised, ever so slightly. I was greeted by a wall, nothing more, nothing less. A wall, bathed in the orange glow, bathed in the sour smell around me and accompanied by the sound above me.

I tried to sob. My tears betrayed me, even as my anxiety grew. My heart continued to race as my cycle began again. My body turned to the right and my legs continued their journey across the surface. Another door faced me. Only this time, my head was higher. Glass. An insert of glass in the door welcomed my body as it came into the reflection, surrounded by the orange glow.

I focussed on the reflection. It was me, the body I knew but it was charred and twisted. The body that had betrayed me in this never-ending cycle. My eyes raced across the familiar, yet bloodied silhouette, dancing momentarily across the arms, fixed by my side. My chest, still racing, was bare. Imbued with abrasions and rendered, blackened flesh.

My eyes continued to rise, until, my face. My heart continued to race. Anxiety gripped me firmly and my voice refused my urgency to scream, to cry, to call for help. I was terrified. I tried to run but I stood, staring at myself in that reflection. I had never been so scared. It was my face. The only one I had ever worn. I smiled. I couldn’t stop. My cheeks were raised, my teeth bearing. My brow lifted. I tried to look away, but I couldn’t. There was only a smile, staring back at me, unflinching.

I panicked and tried to pull my fingers to a fist, but it was in vain. My arms were unmoved.

That sound again. The metal sound. My smile fell. My head dropped to the bottom of the door and my left leg fell forward, my right met it. And I turned to the right.

Another step. And my climb continued.

The sound again. As I climbed, it became clearer, louder. It was not metal on metal. It was the sound of a light switch. As it beckoned through the stair well, I could sense it. I was getting closer.

The smell grew stronger. Sourer, turning bitter and continuing to strangle me. With each light switch, with each step, my dread built, and the stench grew.

Another step.

I reached the 10th. My body continued its motion to the right, across the flat surface and to the next flight of stairs.

Another step.

I frantically searched my mind for any tether of memory as to why I was in this stair well. There was nothing. No explanation of this continuous torture. Only stairs, only that smell and only that noise.

Another step.

The darkness above me was descending, that was clear. With each light switch, the noise grew louder. The cacophony became distinct. The switch on the floor above me had turned off. Darkness was reaching out it’s ominous tendrils towards me. My mind was thick with thoughts. Of the smell, of the stairs and of the darkness. Why was I here? What is that smell? Is that twisted, charred body really mine?

Another step.

With each step, my gut wrenched. Another noise, this time to my right. A faint, strained breath. A breath that resounded with pain.

Another step.

The flat surface across which I walked would be my last. This was clear. I tried to cry. Nothing. I was exhausted but still my motion continued. I tried to think of my family, of the ones I must have left behind. My mind was blank. In death, I wouldn’t even be given the courtesy of warm memories. No respite to this torture, no place for my mind to wander as my crippled body rose these stairs to its doom.

Another step. I climbed into the darkness.

The strained breathing from above became clearer. Hoarser. The pain was more audible than before. Each breath seemed to last an eternity.

Another step.

My head still slumped forwards. My arms still un respondent to my commands. My legs. My heavy legs still climbed. My mind still fixated on why I was here. Still trying to gather any semblance of reason to this cycle. Nothing. I knew only what I could see and what I could not stop.

Another step. The 9th.

My body halted. The darkness danced around me. I tried to scream. Again, nothing. I tried to sob but my eyes were dry, my body was unmoving, yet my mind raced.

I waited on the step.

Another strained breath. Directly above me. It wheezed and whirred to its destination before being spewed forth, in stages back into the air around me. The smell was ashen and sour. It was the smell that I knew.

I still waited.

Then, I felt it. A burst of cold on my scalp. It spread across my head in a wave and fell around me. The sensation shot down my spine and through my arms and legs. My head wouldn’t move. My eyes wouldn’t close. I stared ahead as the cold feeling moved down my forehead.

My eyes were engulfed in pain. I tried again, in vain, to raise my arms so I could wipe them. Nothing. I was un moved.

A flickering light. An orange glow accompanied by an abrasive scrape. It flirted with the stairwell before the darkness returned. Again, another scrape, another flicker. More darkness.

Then, the third scrape. The glow was constant. Through my blurred eyes, I could see the stair well beneath me. My head was still slumped, one step ahead.

I waited on the step.

Atop the 10th, where the flat surface began, a pair of feet. My mind reeled with the pain in my eyes, but I could see them. Black, twisted flesh. Congealed blood contrasted what remained of the distorted legs in front of me.

There was nothing. No movement. I tried to scream again, nothing. A deep, strained breath filled my lungs as an intense pain engulfed me.

Another step.