The Dark

Jared’s new ship, the venarian swept through space at breakneck speeds, moving from one colony to the next. He was a spare part merchant scavenging for materials on dead planets long abandoned selling parts to whoever would buy. Times were tough, and those brave enough to traverse the dead rocks filled with various native beasts were lucky enough to enjoy the spoils.

Jared stared out the Grand front window of the cockpit, where his son snuck up behind, wondering what was in their view.

“Daddy, what’s that?” His son Michael asked. He was the age of eight, barely four feet tall with hair fire red as Jared’s was. His point led to a massive circle of total darkness, with a bright fire swirling around it’s side, seeping into the middle.

“That’s a black hole, son. It’s sucked a star into it’s pull.” Black holes were eerily beautiful, total black nothingness, crushing all that came within its grasp.

“Why does it do that? It looks like nothing’s even there.” Michael said curiously.

“That’s because it’s centre is so dense, it pulls everything toward it, using it’s gravity. Isn’t that neat?” Jared looked back to see his son confused. “What I mean is, it’s something so heavy that nothing exists around it.” Michael’s head tilted.

The space around it seemed warped, bent and twisted. Relativity rang true near it, time passing years by the minute. He loved gazing into them, it was fascinating, he wished to get slightly closer. He stared into the dark, hypnotized by it’s allure. The bright star swinging round slowly, moving into it’s mighty centre, disappearing. The space bent so wildly that it dragged around it it seemed. Jared couldn’t look away.

Abyss, grand sphere of a single point, a singularity. Bending all to it’s will, time, space, energy, the wills of men. Many have flown into it and disappeared, theorized to have been crushed, or ascended to a higher dimension. Where gravity travels, where time has no meaning, all there is are gods and energies. The essence of gods sat within, Jared knew it. He was set into a trance, unable to move his hands, his limbs, his eyes. All he could see now was the black. Muffled yells and tugging on his shirt came from the periphery, Michael could be heard but not seen, only one thing could be viewed by Jared forever more, as the venarian passed beyond the horizon into the truth beyond.

           The dark.

Blood and Shadow

Round and round they circled, long blades swirling overhead under the moonlight. Ash crept low to the ground in armor black, while Mal, armor of crimson stood tall and mighty. Brothers, one born of shadow, the other of blood. The two fought constantly, training one another to be stronger, to be better, but hatred ran deep within the souls of both.

“You are foolish, brother.” Ash said in a hallowed voice. “You defy orders, and for what? Improvements?” He snarled, running in, crashing his blade against the other, high then low, left then right, swishing round with the sound of scraping metal before backing off once more.

“I make improvements. I set traps for your foolish victims, those blasted rebels, and you dare question my methods?” Mal replied gruffly. He outstretched his hand, leading a crimson mist from his brother’s chest to his fingertips. “Hah, you fool. What can you do against me? Your soul is weak.”

Ash laughed, barely standing as his life was being taken at a glacial pace. “Fool. You see what’s in front of you, nothing more!” Ash yelled, disappearing into nothing.

The light around Mal faded slowly, hair standing up on the back of his neck. “Where are you, you coward!” he yelled.

“Here.” Ash’s voice came from behind, as he moved like lightning, slicing Mal’s back to spill first blood.

Mal grunted in pain, gripping his back. He outstretched his hands, the mist gathered from his brother absorbed into it, closing the wound. “You bolster with confidence, yet you know nothing of my power, brother.”

“So you think!” Ash yelled as he backed into the dark forest, disappearing once more.

The sound of blade slicing through steel rang throughout the clearing, Mal’s screams followed as Ash shot from shadow to shadow, slicing his brother with innumerable strokes.

Mal dropped to the ground, bleeding profusely upon the lush grass. “Ha ha...seems you’re not totally incompetent. Fool!” Mal jumped up, catching his brother’s helm as he passed, draining the life force directly from his soul. Ash felt his energy stolen, slowly losing consciousness and all thought became impossible.

With his last ounce of strength, Ash stabbed his sword through his brother’s chest through a weakened spot, as his life was drained from his body. It was too late for him, for either of them. No power could save Mal from his mortal wound, not even the stolen life of his brother. Each collapsed, one bleeding to death, the other, now an empty shell.

“Well...played…” Mal croaked. “Gods...help...us…”

Heaven or Hell

I think I’m God.

I sat in my heavens, watching over the land. I brought light to all those that needed it, all those that deserved it. Fred, who opened the door for everyone. Sherry, who offered money to the homeless. Terry, who was polite to all that he meets. So many kind people, with dark, dark sides.

Sometimes I question what I did, Why I helped these people. they seemed so kind, so lovely, so polite, and yet, they were so dark.

Fred, you silly thing. He seemed like such a modest man, opening doors, yet he coveted every woman that passed. He has assaulted many, silently, in the dark of night, in the alleyways of night. Why would be deserve light, any forgiveness at all? Because he attended church, feels bad for what he does? I felt he did not deserve the forgiveness he desired, so I lured him into more darkness, more evil, so that he may burn with the rest.

Sherry, you fool of a woman. You offered money to them, but you stole from your company, you stole from your parents, jabbed them for money, yet giving nothing. Just because the homeless needed it does not bring forgiveness. I am those homeless people, watching you daily in your ways.

Terry, you horrid beast of a man. You were polite to all, yes. You said please and thank you, you asked questions nicely, you gave answers in the light of day. Yet when you arrived home, hated your family, yelled, abused and destroyed their lives. Did you believe I would save you from your sins? Did you think I would save your soul, shed light and forgive all that you really are, because you were sorry? No, I pushed you to more, so that you burn with them in the home I now reside.

Once I thought I was god, me, Lucifer, the lord of light. No, my friends. I do not believe I am God any longer.

I think I’m Satan.

Room of Darkness

Thomas awoke as he felt strong pulses from the world around him. He felt the pain of his connected one. Is it my fault? He thought. At least, he thought he was male. He had heard knocks on his room walls echoing a name, “Thomas”. He assumed it was his, as it was repeated many times, correlated with the knock. He was imprisoned in this room, he knew not for how long.

His I.V. gave him energy, unable to disconnect himself as he knew no other way to eat. What laid outside his room? It was dark, but he knew the surrounding area. He lived for what seemed like an eternity, dragging his hands and feet against each wall, each crevice, attempting to find a way out. He just knew of the I.V. he was connected to helped him live. What was out there? He wondered. The voices outside his walls talked of food, nature, water, countries, trinkets, all forms of things Thomas did not recognize, did not know. He only knew his room of darkness, his thoughts which gave him comfort, his thoughts that proved he was alive.

He felt he existed for a purpose. His purpose was to escape. He knew a way out, but could not get through; he was too weak. What am I supposed to do? Thomas thought.

Any time, I think, the female voice outside his walls said.

The female voice spoke of places, foods, extravagant things. Detailed descriptions would calm him, he could almost picture them in his head. He knew of texture, but not colour; they spoke of yellows, blues, greens, and reds, sometimes even violets and oranges. They intrigued him, he wondered what they would be. He only knew darkness, feelings, textures, and sounds. He dreamed of the outside world, wondering when his home would free him, when he could become a person of the outside as the voices were. Who were they? Where did they come from? Are they god? Thomas would think. He could feel their caress of the wall, he felt their feelings even in the darkness.
    It’s happening! The female yelled.

What was happening? His walls slowly closed in on him, slowly but surely. Then rapidly. He felt pain, squeezed by the walls of his prison. Is this the end? He thought. Surely, it was over. Only his imagination comforted him now, as he felt the room of darkness betrayed him. The exit he predicted showed an opening, he was drawn to it. He ran to it, barely escaping. His eyes opened, barely able to handle what came next. Intense white came after the blackness of night, a light he saw more powerful than anything he had ever experienced; the light of day, colours flew through his eyes, now in agony. He escaped his prison of darkness to view the colours of the world. Whites, greens, greys, blues and yellows and oranges and more. He could not breathe; a swift smack upon his back caused him to split up his breath, breathing air now, not liquid.
    “Congratulations, Mrs. Lown. It’s a boy!”

Thomas wondered what his new purpose would be, now that he had escaped his prison.