Drifting to a void on every side

Ryan Hooper
Nov 6 · 3 min read

An ambient loop of a short story about the birth of the Toska and the creation and destruction of the world

Old growth, gnarled trees; a holloway.
Old growth, gnarled trees; a holloway.
Image by the author
Hit play and let the loop soundtrack your journey

It was one, who once asked, what was the beginning, or how did it began, what was before? And it was another, who answered, when told by a third.

There once was an age when there was nothing before it. No land to stand on, no sea to swim in. Nothing as much as grass or corn, or man or beast, bird or fish.

Earth and the other planets were yet to be born. Not thought of, or even imaginable. No heaven, no hell. No middle. Everything just was. Nothing and everything, simultaneously present, and not present.


A giant void.


A yawning gap.


One, which over millions of years, gradually filled with a mist in the north, which grew heavy with ice, which birthed drizzle and breeze.

While, the southern part of the void, lit by stars and magic, created heat and desire.

As they grew, the two halves met as one; the catalyst for chemical change. So of course, they fought, and then transformed.

Out from their mutual blood, a third state flew, becoming Earth and man. Kin came next, animals too, and plants were formed.


Peace followed by war, followed by peace, followed by war.

This became the norm and after a while the yawning void befell to a part of something significantly bigger, slowly marginalised to cracks and crevices in rock faces and caves, inside mountains and down wells, hidden springs, lost rivers, and walled states, dark spaces below ground, under staircases, laying low beneath mulched leaves, attracted to damp and mould, the dirty and cold.


The Toska was born from the abundance of sickness and pain, sins and death, birthed by man.

The Toska grew stronger as man learned no lessons from their wandering ways.

Sickness and pain, sins and death, only grew and grew and grew.

The Toska feasted and widened the yawning void.


But Earth could not take this for infinity. It fought back with times of peace. This harmony had the effect of diminishing the void, and the Toska started to lose its conduit to crossover to the other side. The Toska found their power slowly fade.

But with man being man, this peace could not be sustained for long, before war returned with all its suffering. As more battles broke out between man and man, rising conflicts soon extended between man and Earth, too.

A breaking apart

of the whole

began to happen.


A shake-up.


Feathers soon scattered across the ether.

Bones crumbled.

Blood, spilled.


In these times of horror, the Toska was able to grow again. It mutated and evolved, feeding on man’s wandering whim.

The Toska had so many more moments to call out to tempt man. To sing their songs, from deep inside the shadows.

As man’s patience with one another crossed over the line of no return, Earth kept being stretched, edging towards breaking point.

But the Toska kept calling, leading, luring man and their negative energy back down into the dank soil. Regurgitating this matter, forming fuel for the great yawn to heal.

So the void grew again. Sharpening its bite. So much sharper than before. Until it was enormous enough, strong enough, to devour all of man whole.

Creating nothing out of everything.


Once more, there was nothing but the void.

Man’s mind and body, nothing but tiny blue orbs, dancing and dying in the darkness of time’s tide.


One, then asked another, what was the beginning, or how did it began, what was before?And a third answers with a sigh and spins the axis again.

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