He blinks.


But... Nothing.


Jolt blinks again.


Slowly, but surely, an unnerving urge overcame him. It was a new feeling. Panic.


It was odd. He had never felt such an emotion. In fact, Jolt didn't remember feeling anything at all.


That's what made it even more uncomfortable for him. How was there supposed to be any reference for hysteria, if there was no previous point to remember?


As he came to, groggy pain seeped into his face. The young man reached for his forehead, but saw nothing. The notion of a hand gently caressing his temples was there; but no sight of a hand accompanied it.


Increasingly alarmed, he scrambled to find familiarity. He found his body and pinched. Wincing, Jolt looked down in direction of the source. Yet still, there was... Nothing.


Feeling his head turn, his eyes jostled around, hoping that he could find at least something to focus on. Densely, his mind mulled over the possibilities. Think, Jolt. Think.

Reluctantly, he stopped on the explanation of being blind. That was the breaking point. A rush of terror and trepidation flowed through his veins. Blind. That couldn't be it. Or could it? Blind.


At this point, confused horror brought him to a complete halt.  A new sense of thinking tried to hammer its way into his head. Where was he? Why couldn't he remember anything? What in the world was going on?


See, it's hard to explain blindness. What exactly is it? Perhaps it's an overwhelming darkness. Perhaps there's literally nothing to see. For Jolt, a stark landscape of pure white stretched for as far as he could imagine seeing. Even if he wasn't, for all intents and purposes, he was as visionless as a bat.


Still shocked from the revelation, Jolt made increasingly desperate attempts to rub his eyes and blink, in the hopeless effort that something would eventually show itself in the blank void. His fingertips frantically searched for surface and substance, and found nothing but the smooth "ground".


Training himself to think in a forward manner, Jolt got on his invisible knees and began to crawl. His fingers grazed every inch of covering, but came away from each grasp empty-handed. Yet, he continued to fumble his way across the seemingly vast expanse.


This continued for what should as well have been hours. Jolt just carried on. However, he eventually grew tired. There was nothing to see. What goal had he even set out for, anyway? As far as he knew, there was naught. Oblivion had showed itself to him, and he wept in dismay. He closed his eyes - well, thought he did, he honestly couldn't tell anymore - and waited to fall asleep.


Waking up only brought more woe upon him. Nothing had improved. The same empty white sprawled across all of his conceived vision, and did not end. There were only two options: sit around and wait to die, or continue onward and die trying. Jolt chose the latter.


Pangs of pain pierced through him as the days went on. By now, there wasn't even any conceivable reason for Jolt to still be alive. He questioned his own mortality. Was he in heaven? No, that would be too easy. Some deep, bizarre punishment in hell was the only answer he could come up with.


Losing any will to continue on for the day, Jolt quickly passed out.


It wasn't until nearly twenty-four hours later that he came to, and mindlessly droned forward, as he had for so long already. An indiscernible period of time crawled by, and unwittingly the first thing he had seen in nearly a week presented itself. It had been so long before Jolt had seen anything, that he didn't even recognize it at first glance. But there it was, in all of its glory - A shaded point of light color. It was only the slightest contrast to the rest of the landscape, but it was something, nonetheless.



New hope crashed into his heart. His arms and legs shuffled with reason now, guiding his body to the first sight he had seen since waking in this confounded hell-hole. Minutes passed by, and then hours. As had come to be the norm, time became yet another enemy, and his goal stayed put. The point of contrast was his one sight of reference, and it had not bothered to even budge.


 That was the last straw for him.


The realization... The revelation that he had absolutely no chance to find a way out, and this new speck of faith held no relevance - He had lost all aspiration.


After all, what else was there to live for, but to be lost in a void of nothing?



With that, an efflux of sensation assuaged his body. Starting at the tips, he could slowly feel the loss of what was really no feeling at all. The fact that he had just experienced an oxymoron brought an imaginary smirk to himself, as his unseen arms and legs continued to vanish.


It was all too much for his fragile and tentative body. His smirk grew to a grin. The void engulfed his torso. His grin expanded to a smile. Oblivion wiped away his chest. His smile opened, and Jolt laughed. The white nothing slowly crept over his shoulders, neck, and face, and Jolt continued to laugh the entire time. It was the last thing he could hold on to.


Finally, with his body gone, his laugh faded away, and all signs of his existence completely engulfed and hidden, the expanse continued on its cursed existence. All the while, the last speck of color and civilization loomed on in the distance, mourning for its loss.



*Final Note: This was based on the upcoming game, The Unfinished Swan. In it, the player is placed in a stark white world, where the only tool you have is black paint, which you place in order to see your surroundings. I simply took that away for the setting and drive of the story.




~ GoldvsSilver