"Have you ever felt like falling? Like disappearing in time?"
The air seems to have gotten warmer. A slight notion of suffocation. You feel it as it has become part of you, as it swells inside, threatening to tare you apart. Still... The voice continues...
"Did you feel it?"
Sudden, your eyes shut. One split second of darkness and you are lurking inside your own dark corners. A perfect union of the body and the mind. Unaware of those hidden paths that led to it, you become conscious that you are looking, clearly now, inside yourself.
A settling intimacy. An opportunity to become acquainted with your own being. An open door into the roots of your existence. Delighted, you remain in that moment, counting heartbeats and breaths, as if there is nothing else worth your attention.
Time has stopped, so it seems.
Frozen in that moment of peace, the voice rises once again...
"Do you feel it now?"
In your sensei state of mind, your feel your entire body raging. A slashing pain on your chest, fierce and raw. Something strange, revolving inside of you, tearing your flesh, looking for the trophy. Agonized, you imagine your blood and guts splattered all over the floor, the sidewalk as your autopsy table. Except... You're alive.
Fire bursts inside your heart, spreads through you, floading out of your extremities. But the burning seems natural. A natural disaster, promised long time ago.
Suddenly, it stops revolving.
The fire is now still. Stopped rising as well.
What teared your body as found its goal.
"We're almost there, baby..."
Its shape becomes clear. From its touch, you can now picture it in your mind. Like a claw, sharp and hard, caressing your fragile heart. A soft torture, as it sinks into the muscle. An other one crawls into. It pierces on the other side. Blood falling, warm and gentle across its walls. More pressure. More and more. And then... The movement ceases again. The pressure hasn't stopped though. The pain is too much, as if it is about to explode.
Yet, the fire still hasn't rose again.
The pain loses consistence. The fire burns less. Slow motion. Time has compressed itself once more.
Another pinch. One more.
A single, small, last burst of fire. A seul, lonesome flame.
The hands spread in different directions, but they hadn't let go.
The flesh ripps open, very slowly... The fire is burning less and less.
As the last pieces of flesh separate, there is that last touch of warmth.
And it all goes cold.
You open your eyes to find only light and peace around you. At last.
There is no fire, no blood or pain.
As you walk away, you can still hear the voice, losing itself in the air...
"Have you ever felt your heart getting ripped apart?"
