You are walking down a lonely, endlessly straight road. It is deep, moonless night. Either side of the road is bordered by thick, dark, impenetrable forest. So thick, dark, and impenetrable indeed the forest is, that the edge of the road equals to the end of the world when your sphere of influence is concerned. There is no shortcut. No detour. No other way. Your concept of having a will has been eliminated in its very essence. There are no possibilities for you to choose from. There is only one absolute necessity. You have to walk down the lonely road.
You have no idea where the road leads to – of course you don’t. Nor can you fathom whether it leads someplace or not. Your intuition suggests the second, but perpetually walking down the same straight road doesn’t seem scary for a prospect. You could keep striding down the same road for a period of time longer than any time and still be very happy about it.
A huge, black, sinister wild dog is then appearing, standing close behind you. You don’t turn back to look at him and he doesn’t make any sound. But you know he is there, behind you. You know he is standing there surveying you quietly through the fog, a fierce grin on his face, saliva trickling down his protruding dagger-sharp canines. Nothing about it bothers you much. ‘Just a dog’ you think and you keep walking straight.
The dog never makes a step but is always standing behind you, the contemptuous grin on his face remaining unchanged. ‘Let him be’ you think as you keep walking, ‘let him attack if he dares’. You’ve always counted on your ability to fight – and beat the shit out of – any bad-natured dog you may confront, no matter how huge and black.
But then he attacks in an astonishing style! He doesn’t release any cry, any warning. He doesn’t run. He doesn’t even make a step. No sound, no movement, just as like an intervening piece of time was snipped off the time, or the dog jumped out to and in again from some other set of dimensions… first thing you know: his canines are halfway through your calf muscle. You didn’t have any time to react. That wasn’t fair.
You are infuriated. Now he’s gonna pay for it. You are justified to destroy him. You fight back relentlessly. You release all your rage unto him. But after having overstretched your stamina to heroic levels delivering him a savage outburst of blows, you realize that it’s in total vain. Your fists only fly through him like through air. Though he looks perfectly real – he’s not transparent or hologram-like or something – he is not composed of some sort of substance you are accustomed to interact with.
But it’s quite different the other way around. The truth is that you do not feel pain or any sensation of contact whatsoever. But his grip holds you back. You are immobilized. And your calf is turned into a blood-gushing rasped bone wrapped with bands of sliced flesh. His substance does definitely interact with yours.
You completely lose it. How can it be that you cannot give that sneaky mutt a good whacking? You throw yourself into a rampant exertion against him. But it’s pointless. He remains as ghost-like as ever. You can only see him. And there is no way you know of to restrain him with your gaze.
And his attack gets fiercer. Before you know it, he’s left your calf ripped-apart and his massive jaws are clenching your arm. And without something as an instance intervening, he’s moved on to your throat. In a sequence of comic-strips-like maneuvering, he’s getting over your whole body. Without even moving his jaws, he gradually munches you down piece after piece. Your whole body is going soon to be dissolved into mere organic molecules and waste somewhere deep inside his bowels. To watch is the only thing you can do. You are engulfed in desperation. Not that it hurts; nor that it affects your consciousness and self-awareness – your mind – anyhow… but you need the body to keep walking down the road.