Hello everyone I am thinking about spiral Jon this fine evening. Jon should look into the very embodiment of madness and one of his worst fears and it should embrace him, it should love him, it should whisper he was right to be afraid and now no one could ever hurt him again. It should unmake him and remake him and he should hate and love every moment. He should shatter under Helen’s loving hands. He should look into the concept of something he fears so so much and it should beckon to him. It should sing to him, in a way that purrs under his skin and wraps itself around his mind, and he should think about it late at night. He should remember Jane prentiss’ statement and laugh bitterly to himself at the fact he can suddenly understand it.
The door is right there in the tunnels. Helen would let him in. If he gave in, if he crumbled, Helen wouldn’t stop him. Maybe she’d encourage it. Maybe she’d shape him with her own two hands.
She leaves the door cracked open for him everytime she leaves. He stares at what’s behind it. It doesn’t make sense. It hurts his eyes. It’s beautiful, though. Confusing. He wants to understand it, wants to dissect this strange complicated thing and Know it. Or maybe, if there are no answers, it’ll twist him up with it. What would it feel like?
His hand hovers over the doorknob for longer and longer. He can hear helen walking behind the door. Waiting for him. Ready to welcome him in, if (when) he opens it.
The spiral sings to him much in the same way the eye does. He doesn’t like what it says about him. But the song is familiar and kind and the door is already half open. Waiting.