Literature
Anniversary.
Darkness. It pressed down on him. Thick and viscous like tar, heavy like a rock.
"Is this how it felt, huh, Obito?"
It pushed him down, the darkness blacker than black. If it had hands, it would've strangled him. If it had feet, it would've trampled him. But it was just an abyss of eternal night, engulfing him until he was but a part of that black void, melted to almost a nothingness that's easily swept up, forced back, swirled down, spun around.
Fight. It was a whisper. Not really a voice but a feeling resonating from afar. He felt it come at him, reach him and cling to him.
Fight. That was the whis