• There is no light, no warmth, only blackness. The wind blowing from every direction feels like ice on my skin. I can feel the eyes of thousands of demons upon me, waiting for a moment to strike at me. Is this death? Is this before life? I do not know. The only thing I do know is I am trapped within this ice cold darkness unable to move. The slightest move makes all the demons attack at once; each one pierces my skin with a blade colder than the air around me. This cannot be death. Death would is welcoming in a place like this. This is not before life either. Before life would be much warmer, gentler. This is nothingness. No warmth and no light may enter this place, only blackness, cold and demons. This is a place of fears. Afraid of what lurks in the shadows. Afraid of being left alone. Afraid of being hurt by others. This is a world created by my own fears. A world I can never escape. A world within my own mind.