Afraid of the Dark

Ç̵h̶ä̶p̵t̸ę̸r̸ ̵T̴w̴ə̸n̴t̵y̷-̵Ə̶į̴g̶h̶ť̸:̸ ̴Ț̷h̴ĕ̸ ̴F̵į̴n̵ā̸l̸ë̵

The buzzing increased as the panels began to spark, before each one lit up with a bright display of a static snow screen, forming an bright white canopy above the group.

At first, nothing terrible seemed to happen. The white noise which they saw above them seemed to move sporadically in a completely randomised movement, like some sort of disjointed crowd. However, clumps of brighter areas and clumps of darker areas were beginning to form, and they all started to converge around a single spot. After a few moments of the this, they began to disperse.

The whole ceiling was forming one, repeating pattern over and over again: ripples. It was as if a drop of water was splashing into a still pond, sending small waves across its surface at regular and rhythmic intervals. The circular waves moved across the whole sky-dome, it's epicentre concentrated at one single point.

As each new rippling wave formed, the soft crackling noise droned with a slightly louder intensity. The pattern which was forming meant that two waves would be quickly sent out, followed by a short break, then two more waves would be sent, and the cycle would repeat. So, the increasing and decreasing sound of the static seemed to form something similar to a slow, steady heartbeat.

The American men in the room, because that was really what it was, stared at that point in confusion. Were the waves moving outwards, reaching out towards the spot where they stood? Or were they going inwards, as if trying to pull them all in? And was the pattern twisting around? Like it was rotating around that single point?

It was a rather... interesting sight... they kept looking at it for a while, letting their vision take in as much of the moving pulses as they could while they keenly listened to the beat of the static. It was sort of... nice... to look... relaxing...

Ethan remained where he was behind the tree, looking between the three humanoid figures that stood unmoving in front of him, their forms blurry and dark. He didn't understand why the sky had become brighter, but the increased light aided his vision. He could see further, even though it wasn't any clearer. Why have you all gone quiet? Ethan thought to himself nervously. Why have you all stopped?

For a minute or so, there was silence, as everyone who could see what was happening simply stared with content at the rippling static, feeling themselves sink deeper and deeper into a pacified state. They listened with keen ears as they heard a soft, sweet sound call out to them. It encouraged them to remain calm, and to be still.

But then its tone changed very suddenly.

"Oh, f***..." Tyler whispered shaking his head quickly as he realised what was happening to him, roughly rubbing at his eyes as if he could physically remove the sight of the static from out his brain, still hearing the echoes of voices within his head. He couldn't remember what they had told him, he just remembered that he didn't like what they had said at all. The words had been a shock to his system, enough to pull him from his trance.

He turned away from the source that seemed to be so desperate to catch his attention again, glancing towards his American friend with relief. He too had broken his trance, rubbing at his head with a groan.

But someone hadn't recovered.

"Seán, don't look! Close your eyes!" he shouted, as he looked towards the Irish man with panic. His arms had dropped limply to his sides, his shoulders slumping while his jaw had gone slack, an expression of awe and wonder cemented on his face. "Seán, stop!" Tyler exclaimed, getting to his feet.

"Huh...?" the Irish man mumbled, not wanting to look away from the sight before him. His eyes were open as wide as he could possibly make them, his pupils expanding rapidly, staying like that for a few moments before shrinking again, then expanding once more. Tyler glanced towards the epicentre of the rippling white noise, and then back towards Seán. A tight knot of dread built inside of his stomach as realisation dawned on him: Seán's eyes were in perfect sync with the waves.