Alan #1

The Sound

Alan noticed a sound at the edge of his perception, no, a presence. This presence grew. Or was it a sound? He wasn’t sure. He looked around, trying to identify the source of this sound. Yes, it’s a sound, he thought.

The sound seemed to be coming from all directions, subtle yet pervasive. It almost sounded like it was coming from within. Alan thought that he must be hallucinating. The odd thing is, it appeared as though the things around him were also being affected by this sound. Everything had a slight vibration. It was very subtle; Alan would have missed it if he wasn’t already trying to focus on this sound.

The sound was getting more intense, or maybe Alan was just becoming more aware of the sound. Alan was sure he was getting closer to it. Or perhaps, it was getting closer to him. It was as though the sound had wrapped around him like a snake, constricting its victim with each breath. Alan felt unsettled, and any attempt at avoiding the sound only made it constrict tighter.

Alan found himself alone in a dark, damp room. The sound had completely consumed all of his senses at this point. He was sure he could even smell it. Alan thought to himself that if he were to shout, his voice would surely echo. Alan shouted; his voice echoed. The odd thing was, the sound didn’t. Alan tried hard to ignore it, but each attempt made it more intense, driving him closer to the edge of insanity.

Days had blurred together, and the sound had only grown louder, relentless in its pursuit.

The room was all he had left. Each attempt to ignore the sound tightened its grip, while focusing on it kept it bearable, as though it were aware of his every thought.

Alan noticed a bucket of water at his feet, he wondered how it got there. The brief distraction sent his mind reeling as the sound surged, as if punishing him for letting his focus slip.

Alan felt the sound pound in his skull, like a drumbeat about to break bone. He found the bucket again but didn’t recall picking it up. Its water rippled in sync with the sound, a fleeting moment of calm in his madness.

The water flew up, slamming into Alan's face and evaporating instantly. Pain radiated through every bone, every cell, vibrating as if something was tearing him apart from the inside.

Alan stared down at the gun in his hand. Where did it come from? Was the sound messing with him, leading him to this twisted end?

Alan had a final, desperate idea and decided to go through with it. There was a flash, and suddenly, he was floating above himself, watching as his brain matter sprayed out from his left temple in a sickening bloom. He felt nothing—not the explosion, not the shudder of his body. Only the sound remained, quieter now, as if muffled by the ruin below. His body was already decaying, the flesh melting into itself, but the sound lingered, weaving through the fragments. Alan realized that his body no longer held him, yet the sound was as relentless as ever.

Alan thought it had been seconds, but in an instant, he watched his body go from death to decay to nothingness. Time fractured, rushing past him faster than he could grasp. The sound kept growing, but it no longer affected him in the way it once did—now it pulsed through him, endless, as if he’d merged with it. The ability to focus or ignore it was gone, and Alan realized he could no longer sense his own thoughts or feelings. Moments ago, he could simply will himself to pick up an object, to feel his body respond. But now, Alan just… was.

Time felt stretched and stagnant, like a frozen stream somehow still flowing. Moments bled into each other, yet they were no longer moments as Alan had known them; time itself seemed unbound, detached from the world he once understood. Freed from the confines of his mortal body, he could no longer perceive its passing, nor did it have meaning in this endless, pulsing void.

He could no longer imagine his life without the sound—because he was the sound, stretched thin and empty in the dark, a presence echoing through nothingness that would never end.