There once was a room filled with darkness. It was all enveloping, nestling down into every conceivable nook. The darkness was so copious it was almost physical. This was all the room held. That, and a single living creature.
This humanoid being had no concept of direction within the darkness. It didn't know where it was, or how it had gotten trapped in this inky stillness. Awareness about its surroundings struck the creature; it could feel the smooth, cold, unforgivingly hard surface beneath it. The darkness was so utterly absolute the creature didn't know whether its eyes were opened or closed.
In fact, for the first time, the being was aware of its own blinking. It was aware of its breathing. It was aware of its very existence. Groping about itself with a shaking hand, it tried to figure out where it was. It whimpered when upon reaching out it felt nothing.
The area could be vast, or it could be small. The creature's mind raced, terrified, not knowing what could be looming in the darkness. Bound by fear, it couldn't investigate further.
Abruptly the creature was not alone. In the darkness, two eyes opened. They were constant swirls of silver intermingled with red. Then, as though emerging from the darkness itself, a face formed. It wasn't just any face, either. This face was beautiful. It was androgynous, elongated with soft, prominent features. High cheekbones were framed in long silver hair—pure, shimmering silver. The visage smiled, revealing perfect teeth.
The smile, however, was not friendly. Furthermore, the mercurial eyes were somehow deeply, fundamentally disturbing. The creature whimpered again. Even with its limited understanding of everything, a perfervid intrinsic feeling told the creature an undeniably truth:
Faces weren't supposed to glow.
"You're awake," hummed the delicately androgynous voice from the faintly self-illuminated face.
The creature whimpered, comprehending what was being said but not knowing how, or why.
"I was beginning to think I had accidentally killed you," the face continued, looking almost bored.
"But no, I couldn't kill you. You need to pay for what you've done."
Suddenly a long, clawed hand shot out, grabbing the creature by the cheek. The sensation of pain was new and terrible. The glowing face twisted from beauty into pure malice. The helpless creature screamed unintelligibly, its voice echoing, quickly realizing it preferred the uncomfortable cold and unyielding darkness over pain.
"Oh my poor, misguided child," the face said. It was tinged with madness, and the creature sobbed in pure fright. "You have no idea what you've done."
A warm wetness dripped down the creature's face. It didn't understand the feeling, having no idea what blood was.
"But you will," the face whispered, laughing unhinged for a second. "You will bear witness to what you have done."
Without warning, the hand raked down the creature's face, causing it to howl in agony.
"And you shall suffer for it."
Just like that the darkness and the horrifying face were gone. Hyperventilating, the humanoid being looked around its new surroundings. The darkness had been replaced by a new darkness, a darkness that felt safer and was somehow lighter. The ground beneath it was just as hard but it was no longer smooth, and it was slightly warm.
It still didn't understand anything—not the rain that fell over its naked body, not the concrete it laid upon, not the glowing orb that sat above its head. It blinked against the harsh light—a light it knew vaguely as what we call the moon, but this light wasn't that. It was too close, too bright...Much too bright...
Everything was too much; the darkness, the face, and now the abrupt, new surroundings. So many sensations: cold, pain, wetness, hardness...Emotions: confusion, terror. Everything was so new and so bewildering.
Like a candle snuffed out, the creature slipped into unconsciousness, a sweet reprieve from the confusion and pain.
~
The eternal boy shifted in his sleep, perturbed, but not so much as to be awoken from his slumber. The winged man paused in his work for a moment, listening to the silence; he then shook his head, scribbling away at his desk. The beautiful woman in white murmured fitfully in her sleep. The old woman wrapped in a dark shawl openly wept.
The bearded man ran down a passage of pictures until he reached the last one, looked upon it, and collapsed to his knees, dissolving into hysterics. Simultaneously, a pair of green eyes snapped open from a slumber.
And—most importantly—the child awoke, the demon cackling into the night.
YOU ARE READING
Fate's Vinculum
Terrorvin·cu·lum Origin: mid 17th century (in the sense 'bond, tie'): from Latin, literally 'bond', from vincire 'bind'. "God is dead," philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche famously said. God isn't dead. However, when a cascade of situations reap catastroph...