There is a door in front of me

It appears to be old, yet somehow new

It wasn't here before, but I feel as though that isn't true

I reach for the handle and as I get close I begin to hear whispering

The sounds are not coming from behind it, rather they are around it

They want me to open it, to see what lies behind

I do

There is nothing, a wall of nothing, shrouded in black

The whispers stop, I am cold

The door slams shut and disappears

I am cold, very cold

I am nothing