Spagghetified
Some people are black holes. There’s just a density and gravity to their humanity that you can’t help but feel drawn. But at the same time you dare not come so close. You feel this pressure, this danger, even from a distance. You feel that if you do get drawn in, that escape would be impossible. The closer you get, the faster you fall into them. You feel your own humanity being drawn out into strands. Your own being expanding and thinning to a breaking point. Until, almost instantaneously, it’s over. Nobody knows what happens when you, yourself become part of a black hole. Nothing with sentience or that could transmit data for sentient life has ever survived being dropped into one. But Hawking theorized that what goes in, eventually comes out. Albeit in infinitesimally acute parts. Merely echoes of a former self. Maybe that’s why we feel so empty after encountering one.
Enter The Nether 