Skrawling

In the beginning there was nothing, but cold and darkness. By cold, it was the utter lack of any warmth and by dark, a total lack of light. There was no movement, and no sound that would register in any conscious thought. There was only stillness and a deafening silence that would render any sentient being numb. There was no way of telling orientation, up and down were concepts of no consequence. There was only a void, where life was tenaciously clinging, suspended as if it were temporarily to be forgotten. Time passed, moments lost without record kept. Hours, days, weeks, eons... no one will ever really know, as no one was there to observe the passing. Yet time did pass, and the life clinging in the cold and dark grew. It's senses despite the lack of stimuli, developed within the void. Suspended therin it grew larger with nothing to impede its expansion. That which suspended it within the void, was absorbed to accommodate it's growth. It took on a form, skin with which to feel the cold, covered it's limbs and body. Thus it was that it eventually felt the edge of the void... hard, smooth, and perceptibly colder than what was contained within.