Why do we fear the dark? Are we afraid of dark things? No, it isn’t the color or form of darkness that is unsettling to us. It is what darkness represents that terrifies us. The Darkness is everything unknown.
When something can be seen, it can be understood, it can be classified, it exists. But where there is Darkness, not just anything, but everything we don’t know is within. Every conceivable manifestation of evil that dare not reveal itself for fear of becoming known, and therefore losing it’s power. Every unspeakable future. Every mistake, every unconscious sin. Every demon, ghoul, ghost, or other monster is RIGHT THERE, waiting to take you, just out of sight.
It’s just out of reach, but while you can’t see it, it can see you. And without the light, you are powerless to stop it.
* * *
“Time for bed, sweetheart!” called The Mother from the stairwell. The Child did not look up from his game. He had been pulled too deeply into the haunting world within. The monsters were coming for his character, who had bravely stayed to fight them while his platoon escaped.
“Aw, can’t I stay up, mommy?” Although The Child was in sixth grade, and by his reckoning far too old to be calling his mom “mommy”, he knew it helped portray him as endearing and innocent, and that usually played in his favor. “Just one more chapter! Pleeeeease?”
The Mother considered it. She found it so touching when he called her mommy. It brought up memories of the years that had past by. Her little boy was growing up so fast. At least he wasn't playing any of those dreadful games like that Grand Theft Auto that she'd heard about. “Alright, but don’t stay up too late, a turn the lights off when you come to bed.”
No response. “Did you hear me?? she called.
“Yeah, I will. Goodnight.” “Love you, sweetheart.” She returned to her room, Two hours and 3 lives later, The Child finished, mortified. He’d never been more terrified to turn a corner in all his life, and that fear kept returning over and over again. He'd never seen entrails before, and if he never did again, he'd be the happiest bot in the world.
The monsters had done terrible things, and the game had ended the story without a satisfying conclusion. The hero ended it by saying something about how they would never escape, and how death finds everyone in the end. Then it had shown a dark corridor, zooming slowly in, and then a hulking shadow had flashed by in the darkness.
And then it was just...over. The Child shuddered and turned off the console. He could imagine what it would be like to have one of the monsters come up behind him, to wrap it’s hands around his neck and squeeze...
He spun around, terrified, and fell off the couch. The only light in the room was the tall, reading lamp, which spread long shadows across the room. He then realized that if he were to make it to his room alive, he’d need a strategy. Directly in front of him were the stairs, but the kitchen was to his right, and just past the stairs, the den, where The Father kept all the books. Everywhere else in the house was Dark. There was no light coming from the top of the stairs, meaning the upstairs hall lights were off as well.
Every second he was in that Darkness was another second closer to those hands grasping his wrist and pulling, or those teeth burrowing themselves into his neck, or that tendril wrapping itself around his ankle and dragging him. Dragging him to the basement, where all evil resides, and slamming the door shut. Forever.
“Oh please, don’t hurt me, please, please, please...” he whispered at The Darkness. It’s answer came in the form of abject nothingness, which The Child took to mean, “Your soul is as good as ours. We shall feast on you for eternity.” The Child began to cry. It was all too much for him to bear. It seemed like mere minutes ago he was talking to his mommy, and now he was sure he would never hear her voice again. If only he had gone to bed when she had told him, he wouldn’t be alone down here with The Darkness.
She would have protected him, walking him to his room and tucking him in. There she would have prayed with him and kissed him on the forehead, and left his night light on for him...the night light! That was what he needed. It was his only chance.
Getting there was the only problem. “Strategy, I need strategy.” he murmured to himself. He could most likely reach the light in the kitchen with a reasonable degree of safety. That way he would have a light to his back as he flicked the switch for the upstairs hall light. Once he illuminated the upstairs hall, he would turn off the kitchen light, leaving only the living room light. Once that was off, it would be a mad dash to the stairs. It was risky, but it was his only chance.
He ran to the kitchen light, little feet pounding the hard wood floor. He turned on the light just as the shadow figure emerging from the cabinet stood to it’s feet. As the brilliance of the light illuminated the room, it shrunk back, retreating to it’s home underneath the sink. Feeling confident, he went towards the front door, where the light switch for the upstairs light sat in the wall next to the switch for the porch light.
When he flicked on the light on the upper floor, and it’s brilliance cascaded down towards him. He glanced out the glass window on the door, and saw shadows moving across the lawn. He flicked the porch light, and they scattered across the street, where he could see eyes looking back at him with hatred.
Another wave of fear hit him, and he decided it might be better to leave that light on after all. Now that he had upper defenses, it was time to do as his mother had asked, and turn off the lights. He slowly made his way towards the living room.
The light seemed much less bright now. There was a small spot of Darkness in the far corner, underneath the end table of the adjacent couch. It seemed like The Darkness as encroaching upon the light from the lamp, reaching out and absorbing all the happiness and mirth that the light might bring.
Just then, the kitchen light winked out. He whirled on the spot, staring into the blackness that moments ago had been safe and welcoming. What could have turned off the light? Whatever it was, it had come from the darkest corner of the universe to this house, for no other purpose than to feast on his flesh. In his mind, that was a fact.
He turned and sprinted up the stairs, his entire being focused on one goal: reaching his room and the safety of his night light. He ran up the stairs on all fours, like a mad dog, kicking his legs out behind him blindly at whomever or whatever may have been there.
His mother’s request that he turn out the lights was forgotten, and if he had remembered, he most likely would have raged at her for asking him to do something so dangerous. Against his better judgement, when he reached the top of the stairs, he turned and glanced back at The Darkness. It stared back at him, leering and licking it’s unseen lips.
Then, to his abject horror, one of the shapes emerged from the gloom. It was a pale corpse, covered in the rot and rancid decay of one hundred thousand years. It was the monster from the game he had been playing! It had come to life to get him one last time!
The abomination grinned up at him, revealing gleaming white tombstones, which ironically reflected light back up at him. The Child stared at this creature from The Darkness for what seemed like an eternity. He was so gripped by panic, he dared not even twitch for fear of being taken.
This ghoul was a manifestation of the horror of every generation since the beginning of man. Just as the hero in his game had lamented, the boy knew all life inevitably led to death. The body would become nothing more than a grotesque shell, mocking that God which had made people in His image.
In this moment, the boy started to question whether or not this apparition was real, or if perhaps he was in a nightmare, soon to be awoken by his father, who would gently shake him awake. He was just beginning to hope that this was not a reality when the spectre slowly raised one arm, and pointed it’s bony finger at him and spoke.
It’s voice was like old wood, cracking from being bent out of shape by some never ending storm, yet it boomed out, and The Child was sure it would awaken his parents. “Flee. Run back to your room, with your lights and your covers. Sleep, if you can. But know this: while you cannot see us, we reign beneath you.
"We never sleep, we only wait. You cannot escape us. We will devour you and all who live in the light. The universe is ever spiraling closer and closer to the eternal darkness of non-existence. WE SHALL RULE IN...”
But it's message or horror fell on deaf ears, for the child was gone. When he reached his room, he slammed his door, flicked on his light, and lept into his bed. His room was instantly aglow, and he flung himself into his pillow and sighed with relief.
After a time, he pulled himself together and began preparing himself for bed. While changing into his pajamas, he kept staring at the crack under his door, praying the hall light did not go out. It didn't. He left his room, surrounded by the fluorescence that came from the hall, bathroom, and bedroom bulbs. After brushing his teeth, he returned to his room, turned on his night light, and turned off the main light.
His room was illuminated by a cheery orange glow. Satisfied that there were no shadows large enough to hide the monsters he had seen on the lower level, he crawled into bed. He knew he would never forget the horrors he had witnessed that night, but he knew they were, for now, over. The Darkness may be inherently evil, but it was easily vanquished.
He rolled over, smiling. Suddenly, he was thrust into a murky blackness. He yelped and say up. What could this trickery possibly be? The dim aurora of his night light returned, but weaker. With horror, The Child remembered that the bulb was dying, like the one in the kitchen, and his father was planning on going out and getting new bulbs the next day. The dull illumination continued for a minute, before slowly fading to nothingness.
The Child was once more frozen in terror. The enemy from below had penetrated his sanctuary, and he was powerless. He knew where they resided during the night: In the closet, under his bed, and outside the window. However, without the protection of his night light, the monsters and demons were free to enter his room at their leisure!
He threw himself under his blanket, wishing them away. All around him, The Darkness silently bellowed in triumph. The stillness was deafening. Peeking from under his covers, he peered into the inky nothingness. The faint glow of the city shone through his window, offering just enough phosphorescence to make out the certain...things.
His closet was now open, but nothing moved. The Beast from The Darkness could be anywhere. But the most unsettling sight, what seized him with trepidation, was his window. Ever so slowly it raised, as if by it’s own volition, creeping upwards in defiance of the natural laws of gravity.
The Child crawled back under his sheets, praying fervently to God. He’d never done so before, not without some adult making him do it. But the only thing in the whole universe with more concentrated power than the fear of a child is the One who created that child. The Child prayed for deliverance, and he heard a voice whisper to him.
“The lamp. Use the lamp.”
The Child knew this to be folly. More likely than not, this was the voice of one of the things under his bed. If he were to extend any part of his body past the edge of his bed, he knew they would grab him and pull the rest of him off and under into their lair. No, that was a lost cause. Only he could stop them.
The one fortress he had was his bed. He scrunched in his body tight, and pulled in the blanket around him, creating a practically air-tight space for him to hide. He hoped that The Darkness would not be strong enough to remove these sheets. If it was, then he would be laying there helpless, with no veil between him and the jaws of death.
Again the voice came to him, “Trust me. Use your lamp. I will protect you.” While The Child knew this to be pointless, he could not stand the suspense. Once more he peaked over the top of his covers. From the end of his bed, something was peeking back. Even in the near pitch black of his room, he could still make out the pasty white skin and ghastly glow of that pasty, pearly plaque.
The creature that had assaulted his eyes from the bottom of the stairs was now at the edge of his bed. It grabbed the edge of his sheet, and began to tug. Try as he might, he knew it was too strong. Inch by inch, his castle began to disappear around him.
“The lamp! Turn it one now!” The voice called, clearer than ever. Moved by desperation, the child extended his arm across the abyss that separated the edge of his bed from his bedside table. In what seemed like slow motion, his hand reached over to the lamp. It was a touch-sensitive lamp, which could be activated by a brush of the fingers. Looking down, he saw more tentacles reach up from under the bed, grasping blindly for his arm.
He closed his eyes and strained his fingers, groping blindly for the base of the lamp. Success! The Child’s hand made contact, and the room exploded into brilliance. The tentacles retreated, and the closet door slammed. The disgusting wretch at the end of his bed threw back it’s head and let loose a moan more haunting than any noise The Child had ever heard, or would likely ever hear again.
Burned by the light from the lamp, the thing lept out the window, and it fell shut in it's wake with a loud thud. And just like that, his room was still. Peace washed over him, and he closed his eyes, finally accepting the soft embrace of sleep.
A few hours later, he awoke to a soft rapping on his door. The Father called out, “Time to get up. Get ready for school!” a pause. “Can I come in?”
“Sure, dad, sure.” The Child sat up, rubbing his eyes. As The Father stepped in, The Child let out a yawn. His dad grinned and said, “Up and at ‘em, big man.”
“Sorry dad, I had a bad dream last night.”
His dad snorted. “Is that what that racket was all about? We heard the window shut really loud. Were you sleep walking again?” The Child looked away.
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” He scanned the room. The window was shut, and so was the closet. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and planted his feet on the floor. Nothing grabbed his ankle. He looked up at his father. “I’m ok now.”
“Good. But son, when you come upstairs, please don’t run. Your mother and I are trying to sleep, and it’s very loud. And remember to turn of the lights next time, alright? You keep leaving them on all the time, and then we have to replace them."
The Child sighed, "Yeah, I will."
The End
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