They say you can’t feel darkness. They are wrong. Darkness has a distinct texture. Fine like a silk cloth wrapped around your eyes and at the same time suffocating like a tightly wrapped plastic bag over your face. With every breath you need an extra. You have to get out. Have to find a way out.
Panic overcame Doyle. He squeezed his abs and ripped his back of the chilled platform. His heart is racing. Panting. He looks around only to see the darkness closing in. His muscles by now are so deprived of oxygen he begins to shake, squeezing his fingers tightly into his fists and rapidly letting them loose. He is still weak. Supporting himself with his right arm he felt out the floor and safely landed his foot. His arm gave in. He crashed to the cold floor and felt a jolt of nerve pain from his right elbow right to his spine. Frail in comparison to what his head felt like. While on the floor he let his head down onto the cold floor just to ease the pain caused by whatever was scrambling his mind. At that moment his heart dropped to his gut. He saw heaven. A strip of white, holy light fighting its way through the darkness of evil. He crawled towards it slowly not taking his eyes of the only thing that kept him sane at this time. He reached for it. Light has a feel too. Warm. He could finally his own hand as the ray of light shone on this dirty skin.
He reached up and pushed open the door.