As his last eye closes and he drifts off, the obelisk fills his vision completely. It is all there is to focus on, it is all that exists in this world. The world is colorless, as it should be, and he feels more at home here than he ever has in the swamp. The obelisk glows gloriously, echoing his insides, his mind. Slightly luminescent fluid drips from his open jaw as he eagerly approaches the monolith, eager to see what secrets it holds, if it's from Home. He gets closer, a sinister, savage giddiness building up inside him as he circles it, looking up, stretching out his mandibles, trying to take in as much of it as possible. He's only ever felt like this in dreams, never in the swamp.
Unfortunately, in his excitement, he trips over his own legs. He touches it. He wasn't ready for that yet. He wasn't done taking it in. An explosion of pleasure wracks his body, and he falls. And he falls. It's all too familiar to him, this feeling of falling, and after the initial pleasure wears off he knows exactly where he'll find himself- the swamp. His body is filled with a sense of sickness, disappointment. He hears the familiar cicadas, sees the comforting fireflies, who glow like him. The moon is in the sky now, but the obelisk remains, echoing that glow still. His heart speeds up, he's been given another chance, then comes the overwhelming feeling of rot. His innards visibly and audibly churn with it, but it is not an uncomfortable feeling. Eyes locked on the obelisk, the feeling takes over his whole body. He wants to move, to go back to it, to fall asleep at it's feet and dream a real dream in it's presence, surely he must be awake, surely it must really be here?
He finds himself unable to move, his guts still wrenching and fluid dripping uncontrollably from his jaws and from his side. He may as well be paralyzed. His vision is once again filled with the obelisk, but this time it's real. It has to be. Soon the swamp around it comes to life, colors that have never been seen, plants that have never existed bloom out from the structure and overtake the swamp. Strange, formless beings fill the air. He wants nothing more than to jump, to be free to explore this new landscape, so very unlike the one he was born into. He is filled with a great sadness as this new world takes shape around him, without him, and now the feeling of rot has fully consumed his body, he is now fodder for this world. He has served his purpose.
From Beyond jerks awake, curled up on his pile of plants, half digested, in his home cave. He is filled with many feelings as usual, but more intense than usual. He feels a lingering sense of homesickness, of sadness. The visions of the flora from his dream still fill his mind, and he can't bring himself to get up. Not yet.
Unfortunately, in his excitement, he trips over his own legs. He touches it. He wasn't ready for that yet. He wasn't done taking it in. An explosion of pleasure wracks his body, and he falls. And he falls. It's all too familiar to him, this feeling of falling, and after the initial pleasure wears off he knows exactly where he'll find himself- the swamp. His body is filled with a sense of sickness, disappointment. He hears the familiar cicadas, sees the comforting fireflies, who glow like him. The moon is in the sky now, but the obelisk remains, echoing that glow still. His heart speeds up, he's been given another chance, then comes the overwhelming feeling of rot. His innards visibly and audibly churn with it, but it is not an uncomfortable feeling. Eyes locked on the obelisk, the feeling takes over his whole body. He wants to move, to go back to it, to fall asleep at it's feet and dream a real dream in it's presence, surely he must be awake, surely it must really be here?
He finds himself unable to move, his guts still wrenching and fluid dripping uncontrollably from his jaws and from his side. He may as well be paralyzed. His vision is once again filled with the obelisk, but this time it's real. It has to be. Soon the swamp around it comes to life, colors that have never been seen, plants that have never existed bloom out from the structure and overtake the swamp. Strange, formless beings fill the air. He wants nothing more than to jump, to be free to explore this new landscape, so very unlike the one he was born into. He is filled with a great sadness as this new world takes shape around him, without him, and now the feeling of rot has fully consumed his body, he is now fodder for this world. He has served his purpose.
From Beyond jerks awake, curled up on his pile of plants, half digested, in his home cave. He is filled with many feelings as usual, but more intense than usual. He feels a lingering sense of homesickness, of sadness. The visions of the flora from his dream still fill his mind, and he can't bring himself to get up. Not yet.