Beyond Infinity: The Convergence

A Symphony of Pain

They had some humanity left, as looking at the thing for what it actually was, the weight on their shoulders returned. It was not as beautiful as they had thought it to be, and as human as they were— some of them— they did not reserve such sympathy for those hung up on the walls like picture frames.

They sought to give their sympathy to an otherworldly being, an imitation of youth and innocence. I'd berate them to there and no more still, as I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel the slightest bit of sympathy for it.

It was laying on the floor, flat on its stomach, and with crayons in its hand, it drew on the parchment it had been given. A young girl, a child, deathly pale with hair like fire and eyes like a foggy mirror.

It hummed to itself as it drew, as for what it was drawing, pictures of people and animals. It wasn't that simple still, because even though she knew of the outside, her drawings were crooked.

The dogs she had drew, mimicked the body types of men, but with fur and many faces. As for the rest of the animals, they were amalgamations of all different types, having hooves, claws, faces and even no faces at all. There were some with wings and some without, birds with beaks and some with snouts. It meant nothing to her I suppose.

There was a realization for all who were present though, the place was a prison. It seemed to make sense a floor up, but it was just a misunderstanding.

The rift in space hovered above the little girl, stories tall, and as she moved, it moved with her. The hovering impossibility would prove itself otherworldly, as looking at it from any angle, it looked the exact same.

It seemed as if they had lost their ability to articulate their thoughts once again, because all they did was stare, and there was a lot to look at.

The place she was in was a pure white padded room, and it was just as tall as the rest of the structure. Yet, as small as she was, her drawings were all over the walls, even on the ceiling.

She'd finish her drawing, that of a golden man, pulling a monster into the deep, and then she'd find somewhere to put it. She seemed to miss the on lookers, even as her eyes glossed over them, and looking at the ceiling, she'd measure it, her drawing.

She'd hoist it above her head, and closing one of her strange eyes, she smiled realizing that it would fit.

They'd then watch as the girl floated up into the room, as if gravity was no more, the anomaly shifting in relation to her, turning upside down. She would then place the drawing on an empty space, and without any reason, it stayed.

She would then return to the ground, an tip toeing around her drawings, she found new parchment and started drawing once again. She was genuinely happy and content doing what she was, what monsters humans still were.

"...They... w-why would they do this...?" Bob would be the one to break the silence, a pain in his chest and a tear in his eye.

As he spoke, he'd almost touch the glass, as if reaching for the girl.

"Don't... Uncle Jack says touching the glass is off limits..." The girl spoke, and she was British, and her accent was old, real old, from before the modern world, old.

They did understand her though, for some odd reason. The understanding didn't help them much still, and it did not put any of them at ease. She knew they were there the whole time, yet she had said nothing, and they did not know why.

"You can see us...?" May would back away from the enclosure, even as she sought conversation.

"I can hear you too... loud! Sooo loud! What were you even doing out there...? The place was shaking soo much...! I thought it was going to keel over and fall on top me..." Her face shifted to pointed brows and crumpled lips, yet she never looked at them.