Darkness of the Unknown

December 20, 2010

O death, where is thy sting? O grave where is thy victory?
(1 Corinthians 15:55)

Men fear Death, as children fear to go in the dark; and as that natural fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other. ~Francis Bacon, Essays

“I wont ever be what you want me to be.”
“You’re not human. You will never be a human. Lord of the Darkness. Destroyer of Worlds.”
“No. I am human. You know why? I may not be able to dream and you can say I don’t have a soul. But I that’s not what makes someone human.”
“Oh,” says the darkness that haunts me “What makes you a human?”
“The ability to look back at things in life, the ability to see situations and wonder. Wonder, what if? What if you’d hadn’t said or done something. Regret. That’s how I know I’m human, how I know I have a soul. And you can say I’m not a human. That I’m this monster, this lord of the darkness. But I will never, NEVER be what you want me to be!”
“Hmm.” The stitched faced being says to me. Scratching his face.
We stand in the centre of tar road. Willow trees line the streets side. There are no stars, no moon, it is complete darkness but some soft light from a lamp post.
“What is a monster?” asks the being. “Humans are close. They kill for fun. Butcher innocents. But you. You are less then they. You cannot dream. You are my son. Born in darkness. Others are born in the light. Or some at night. You see, some say that darkness doesn’t exist. That there is light. And absence of light. This isn’t true. There is light. Absence of light, and us. And you can feel it. Feel it grow.”
I feel it.
I feel an evil overcoming power inside me. I feel the intense darkness. I feel it grow inside me.
“No!” I scream. “I will NEVER be what you want me to be!”
The creature moves towards me, truly not of this world.
His face is close to me, I feel his breathing, like death had turned into air. I feel the cold of it touch my skin, I feel it’s cold sting, I feel death. I stare into the white pits of his eyes. Though they are complete white I feel the dark. I can see it. Unexplainable the darkness within his soul. This creature. My creator. My father…
“I. Will not. I wont.”
He smiles. I feel his grin in my heart. I feel it like a dagger.
“You cannot outrun fate.” He whispers. The cold stench of death on his breath stings my face. “You cannot out run death,” he hisses. “You cannot outrun ME.” He groans.
His rough charcoal burnt arm reaches out. Entering my stomach I feel a squeeze. My eyes widen in fear and pain.
“You were right.” He chuckles. “You did have a soul. But, I destroyed it. I’m very disappointed in you son.” He says.
He removes his arm. I feel my life fleeing from me like air escaping from a balloon.
He begins to walk away, up the road. Into the thickest of the dark. Tears drain from my eyes, I try to scream, try to beg, the life dies, and all I feel is fear.
He turns his neck, I cannot see his face.
“You could… always change your mind?”
“Fuck… you.” I whisper.
“Hmm, so be it.” He says and walks off, vanishing from my view.
I feel the last of my life existing my body, I feel cold and lose all feeling. The thoughts from my mind become muddled. I lose focus and feel my face plough into the pavement. It doesn’t hurt. And slowly all becomes fuzzy. The last thing I hear is the slow, rhythmic breathing of the creature from the darkness. Death.