The Darkroom

Footsteps. I could hear them echoing faintly, but somehow also quite clearly, in a way that was not possible. My heartbeat quickened and my breathing became short and ragged as I whipped around. There was no one there. I stopped walking, and the quiet, yet distinct, footfalls stopped too. I exhaled loudly, releasing the breath that I had not realised I was holding. It was just me in the darkroom, me and my own slow, steady steps. There was no one else in here. I repeated this over and over in my head, a silent, calming mantra to reassure myself.

Breathing deeply, I reached for my red lamp, switched it on and looked around, allowing my eyes to adjust to the sudden, dim light of my lamp. The room was now bathed in a deep blood-red; not bright, just enough for me to see my work. I sat down and set to work. It was my first time using the darkroom and I was slightly nervous. I took out my notebook, within which my instructions were written, when –

My head jerked up; I could have sworn I’d heard a squeal, a tiny sound, barely there. I looked around, searching the dark room for the source of the noise. Nothing. Closing my eyes, I chanted to myself, there is nothing here, there is nothing here. There couldn’t be anything here. I was alone in the room, had entered alone and no one else could have entered without me noticing. With these calming thoughts, I settled down again, taking slow, deep breaths relax myself.

But there it was again, that sharp, piercing screech that I could scarcely hear. It was most definitely not my imagination this time. Heart thumping, I jumped to my feet, my notebook and pen clattering loudly to the floor, echoing as the footsteps had done. My gaze travelled around the room frantically, hoping to find a plausible explanation for the ominous sounds. They were growing rapidly in volume now, louder and louder, flooding the room until it all merged into one deafening, unbearable sound. Then –

Silence. The only sound that accompanied me now was my own raggedy breathing, short gasps for air as I attempted to recover. Regaining control of myself, I staggered over to my workspace and froze. Was it my overactive imagination? I did not know. I was sure that my little red lamp had been four feet from my desk just a mere second ago. Now it was right over my workspace, illuminating the small strips of photographic film lying on my table. My pulse quickened rapidly. Calm down, Lucy! Think rationally, I told myself firmly. I must have accidently moved it closer, in my lapse of consciousness just then, I decided. It was the only logical explanation. Gingerly, I moved the light backwards and then slowly backed away. Nothing happened. Relieved, I picked up my equipment and resumed the process of developing my film. It was all over.

Or was it? I caught a little movement out of the corner of my eye. Determinedly, I ignored it, focussing my attention of my little strip of film. I bit back a scream. This could not be possible! I looked around wildly. How could my film have been developed already? I had done nothing to them yet! The negatives were staring at me with bright white eyes, strangely distorted. I looked through all of my strips of film. All of them, disfigured! Enlarged heads, shrunken torsos, warped images in every photo. And the eyes! Blindingly white, almost glowing, they glared at me, from each and every ghastly, mangled picture. I stifled my scream with great difficulty and stood up, panicking. Now the lamp! The beam of light was, strangely, focussing on me now, getting brighter with every second I stood there, transfixed. The footsteps, the screeching, it all started again, an unearthly orchestra torturing my ringing ears and pounding head with every step, every squeal, every terrible sound. I whirled around, again and again, faster and faster, hands clasped tightly over my ears. Even then, I could not block out the piercing noises. I could not stand it! I was spinning round and round now, increasing in speed, unable to stop, forced by ghostly arms. The room became a blood-red blur, the lamp an evil red eye, boring into me, the only object I could see clearly. Shrill laughs now joined the mess of sounds I was hearing and finally, I lost all restraint and opened my mouth to scream –

***

A high, terrified scream pierced the calm evening air. A short, sharp, bloodcurdling scream, followed by a deadly silence. Mina ran worriedly into the darkroom to Lucy’s aid. Unnoticed, the heavy doors slammed silently behind the frantic girl as she examined her unconscious friend, desperately trying to staunch the flow of blood leaking from Lucy’s neck, trying to ignore the steady drip drip drip of the dark blood splattered on the walls. Then she heard it. Soft, echoing footsteps, quiet, yet distinct. Alarmed, Mina looked up, and as she did, the red lamp began to glow…