Fear Itself

I'm not sure where I was going with this.

“...Then what are you?” I asked.

After a lengthy silence, the darkness called back in a hoarse whisper, and it said simply, “Everything. And nothing.”

“Something cannot be all things and no thing.”

The darkness made a throaty laugh, “I can.

I trembled more now, but for some reason I became curious and began to dispute it. “You refer to yourself as ‘I’ yet you do not consider yourself—

“And I can speak through yours or your lovers’ lips, though I have no tongue. I am everywhere and nowhere, and come to some more than others.”

“So… you are a like the aether? Without substance… matter. Not truly here or there, but you abide. You exist. Manifesting and appearing as you please, inside and out of time. Always and never.”

“Think of me as that which one cannot put a finger on, but you can embrace. An idea if you like.”

“And what idea is that?

“The very idea, Jane. As we speak, its grasp upon you becomes tighter and tighter. My grasp. And I must say I am flattered. Flattered that you should choose my current state. To contend with me as I am now personified. However I cannot decide if you are a genius or fool for doing so.”

And in that moment I realised, that without trying, my bravery had pitted me against fear itself.”

The End

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