In Darkness

Light - an all encompassing beacon, giving us the ability to interpret our surroundings. To understand them, visually, for what they truly are, what is truly there.

Darkness - the absence of light. It leaves us with four of our five primary senses, debilitating us visually. We are left only with what we can hear, smell, feel, and taste.

    This was a reality that Wendy knew all too well at the moment. Gusts from a blizzard caused power lines up the road from her house to fall. Now, she was left without one of her senses, something as simple as sight. Wendy, however, was not afraid of the dark. She was instead taught to fear the inability of sight. Her aunt, Meredith, would constantly tell Wendy stories of her youth, stories that were centered on her blindness. They were stories of the unknown world, the terrifying world that the inability to see had created for her.

    Wendy had nothing in her house to create light, so she moved around her house carefully, searching for a place to sit. Although she moved slowly, she still managed many collisions with things scattered around the house. Her memory failed her, and she was left to mindlessly stumble about a house that didn't even seem like her own, a foreign environment.

    Being encased in darkness meant her brain had an easier time listening for small sounds that she may have not noticed otherwise. The fridge running in the kitchen, the occasional sound of a pipe creaking, and- something else. A sound that could not be attributed to anything she could think of in her house. It was a faint, but constant scraping sound. Faint enough that she would never have notice it if she had not been in complete darkness and silence. Deciding not to dwell on what the sound might be, she began moving again. Her footsteps changed, and she could tell she was on the linoleum flooring in the kitchen. A scent filled her nose, that of rancid meat. Surely, the ground beef she left in the fridge to thaw couldn't have spoiled already? The smell was overwhelming, growing increasingly prevalent by as the time passed. She couldn't stay in the kitchen, else she threw up.
   
    Turning around and walking forward to leave, she was immediately met by a wall. Her hands roam across the gritty surface in front of her bit reach no escape. How could that be? She had not walked far into the kitchen, and had turned on her heel. How could she not find the exit? It must have been a fluke, she thought nothing of it. The smell was now gone, so she decided to look for a seat in the kitchen. Finding one, she sat down and rested her forehead in her hands. Her body was shivering, but not because of fear. The temperature in the house had dropped considerably since the power went out. Wendy had only had a nightgown on at the time of the outage, her legs and arms were not covered, and small bumps were many on her skin.

    Once again, the sound of scraping rang in her ears. This time more shrill. She deduced it was coming from her left, but knew not what was in that direction. The sound slowly, but noticeably started to increase in volume, and Wendy could do nothing about it, only sit, frozen in darkness with no sense of what was what. A loud smashing after the scraping had stopped, only for it to start once again at a considerably louder volume. Panic set in at this moment. She stood up and ran to her right, away from whatever was making the horrible noise. Her foot caught onto something. Being unable to see skewed her perception of distance, and her fall seemed to last an eternity. A harsh landing stopped her descent. The floor was wet, coated in a lukewarm and thick liquid. The same putrid smell filled her nose one again with much greater intensity than the prior incidence. She nearly vomited, but managed not to. The sound was still there, advancing toward her. She didn't want to stand. There wasn't a point to do so; whatever was in here with must know her location. She, on the other hand was lost in a world not of her own. She couldn't see, couldn't utilize her greatest weapon against the unknown. Silence for only a moment, a loud thump, and again the shrill scraping, powerful enough to force her to bring her hands to her ears. It didn't help; it was still as piercing as it was. Along with the scrape, the thumps returned, with a more deliberate and constant performance. What was this? Provided she could see she could at least know what the monster was, know what was to end her life. But no, a black-out had to keep her in the dark. Sound, scent, and touch alone was not enough ... but taste. Could she determine this mystery liquid with a sample? It sounded absurd even to her; though she believed her death was soon coming. Sticking out her tongue, she licked the floor under her, and regretted the decision immediately. The liquid had an unmistakably metallic taste, accompanied by undertones of rotten meat, sweat, and dirt. There were many hairs in her mouth afterwards. Sobbing, the unknown liquid and pure darkness all around her, she waited for death.



    Light, piercing her eyes with remarkable intensity. It didn't cease before she heard the voice of her father.

    "Wendy, oh Wendy. thank god you're awake," he sounded deeply relieved. She could now see, and was staring into the eyes of her father. "Don't speak, hun, you’re alright, just in shock. Once the power went out I went straight to your house. I know how you get when it's dark ... hallucinating sounds and smells and what not. You were passed out on the floor. What the hell happened?"

    Wendy said nothing for a moment; she just lay there, trying to recall the events that led to this situation. "I- I don't remember. I only remember darkness. No sounds, scents, nothing. It's all just a black memory of nothing."

    Her father looked down at her; a small smile graced his lips. "Well, you’re all right now, yeah? The powers back on, I'll drive you back to your house."

    And they did just that. Wendy went home, grateful to have her primary sense back.. Sitting on the chair in the kitchen she stopped, closed her eyes and listened for a moment. She opened them immediately after.

    The scraping sound, It was still present, as faint as when it was first heard it. She promptly turned her head toward the left, in the direction of the noise. What she saw immobilized her. The door to the basement was forcefully ripped off it hinges, destroyed and discarded on the floor. A bubbling, crimson sap covered the bottom of it, pooling about the floor below and dripping down the stairs. The liquid almost seemed to be seeping up the stairs, as if it had the ability to move of its own accord

Thump. Thump. Thump.