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Only Blackness

Pain. He could feel pain, in his knees. He was sitting on them, he realized. For how long? He tried to move one hand — it responded weakly, dragging over a cool, rough substance. Dirt. It dug beneath his fingernails, which had grown so long he had trouble touching the pads of his fingers to the ground. The pain in his legs grew now that he was aware of it. He took a sharp breath and heaved himself sideways. His side hit the ground with a dull thud, pain shooting into his eyes. They’re open, he realized. A bit of dirt must have flown into his face as he fell. He blinked, straining to see ahead of him.
There was only blackness.
He fumbled in his pocket, too-long fingernails hindering him. After a few moments of labour, his fingers grasped something smooth and uneven. He struggled to fish it out from the loose fabric of his trousers. With a grunt, he pulled it free and flipped over onto his back, panting and feeling weak from the effort. A dim white glow emanated from the piece of quartz in his hand.

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