Prologue
The man's shadow sweeped the streets, seemingly unaffected by the sheer icy winds. The shadow walked across Scath Street bearing no will, no prejudice, no hope. It glided to the 23rd house, a fragment of a teeming mansion that once lived. The shadow's arm stretched out to the barely-functioning doorknob. The façade offered no resistance; the door fell across to the ground. The shadow entered.
Dust violently littered the floor, and dried blood was plastered over the walls. The shadow was indifferent in its chosen direction; it flew up the broken staircase and hovered near the grand chandelier, basking in the darkness. The chandelier was monstrously large. The shadow did not postulate its lighting capabilities, but it seemed somewhat attracted to the chandelier's presence. In the centre of the chandelier, something lay. Whatever it was, it most certainly was not alive. The only likely life in the mansion were cockroaches and perhaps rats. However, the object was longing... wanting... needing. Life had once surged through it. The shadow gazed into it and trembled.
No, wait. A round tear flowed onto the shadow's face. The shadow was not trembling... The shadow was weeping.
But... shadows don't weep.
YOU ARE READING
Ray of Light
Spiritual'Ray of Light' is a tragic tale about a seemingly ordinary forensic scientist living in New York. He lives with his mother. He goes to work every morning. He talks with his colleagues. He's normal, right? Wrong. Join Leon in a quest packed with weir...
