Dream

In a empty stone room I asked, "Is this the end?".
"This is only the beginning", the guard replied.
I started to turn and whispered, "I've got to get out, I have to leave", the walls were full of puzzles.
Someone spoke again,"This is only the beginning, you cannot escape the end. You cannot escape your end." Suddenly, I didn't want to leave, this place looked so wonderful. Look at that angel! She is called my mother's name. She sat wasting time in a small box... like me and I felt comforted.
I screamed, "Madness, where's the exit? NO! Get away! You're crazy, isn't there a way out? I heard myself whimpering, "There too much blood and so many faces! Why are they crying? Why am I here?" With tears streaming down my face I heard a voice, "Turning is useless, you turn from one Thing only to meet another Thing. Those are monsters and they have come to consume you... if you move".
I stood still in a room of stone, a stone box and there was only one man. Then the man who was the guard appeared and spoke to me again.
"You cannot leave this place of horror and bliss, you will be trapped in this place of nothing and see everything. Nothing is hidden from you, but you are blind.
Without moving I felt my back against the floor covered in blood, but it was silk and still tried to turn with no avail. I squinted confused. There was no ceiling... I turned my head... no walls. The floor! I was suspended in the darkness. I stiffened trying not to fall.
"Is this the end", I asked. I felt a breath on my back, it whispered, "This is only the beginning". Suddenly it became a laughing screech and then a tortured roar. Dark blue tendrils looking like fire wrapped around my form, twirling upwards and fading with my passing. I was falling. Screams jolted me out of my sleep. I looked to the flashing television. Images of blood and war seared my mind. The screen filled with the face of a crying baby. On the wall a clock ticked, it looked like a puzzle. On the wall also hung a canvas that depicted a savage image from Left4Dead. I had painted it last month. The room tilted, exhausted I fell weakly onto the softness of my pillow. The lamp on the stand next to my bed lit up a picture of my mother smiling at me while she held a young child. Her image blurred. Why is she in a box? ... the room went dark.