DARKNESS re-post Darkness “When you get to the end of all the light you know and it's time to step into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things shall happen: either you will be given something solid to stand on, or you will be taught how to fly.” “You have to have the darkness for the dawn to come” Prologue 32 AD My sight faded and then regained focus. The heat caused a haze to shroud the land around me and sweat poured into my eyes to blur my vision further. The pain was becoming less piercing but now I was struggling to breathe. Why had I been deserted? Why betrayed? Seeping from my hands, the blood proved I was mortal but my mind knew otherwise. The hour had come. The sky above me grew dark; the sun had vanished, devoured by darkness. The ground violently shook underneath. Townspeople and soldiers muttered unheard words below and fled, leaving me alone. But I was not. Above me, stars momentarily filled the darkened sky. In the air, I heard soft words of wonder and hope that moved me to tears and now I was not afraid. “So shall it be at the end of the world: the angels shall come forth, and sever the wicked from among the just, and shall cast them into the furnace of fire.” 1978 AD As I wipe the condensation from my bedroom window, I can see him again. Like before, his visits are becoming more frequent. From my earliest memories, I could remember him being there, always stood on the other side of the street looking up at my window, features hidden by a long hooded raincoat. For the past seventeen years of my #life, I had grown up living in the shadow of this man. I could remember as a young boy seeing him illuminated by an orange street light which glowed like fire because of the heavy rain. Even at an early age, I knew that there was something unusual about him…but I wasn’t scared. A couple of years ago, his visits ceased. I would look for him every night. Strangely, the sight of him made me feel safe and during the time of his disappearance, I felt vulnerable. I held these feelings until a month ago. He returned while I was studying. I had read the school’s selected text twice and I was still struggling. A developing headache had made me open my bedroom window and take in the early spring air, hoping the freshness of the evening would soothe me. As cooler air poured into my room, I looked out and smiled. He had come back. I have never found out who he is or why he watches me, but as I look at him now, I am certain of one thing, he means me no harm. JUDGEMENT 1. The moss-covered gate swung in the strong wind in front of me as flashes of lightning illuminated the bell tower which stood guard over the grounds. I entered the church, leaving the unearthly weather behind. However, what I saw inside made the weather seem like a friendly companion. A #life-less figure, shrouded in darkness, hung from a cross at the old chapel end of the church. I walked towards it slowly, my eyes reluctant to look up. The empty sound of footsteps echoed throughout and reminded me that I was alone. Dimly lit through narrow grimy windows, the main body of the church seemed to stretch out endlessly in front of me. I forced myself forward until the silence was broken. A dripping sound focused my attention to the base of a large, wooden cross. I walked closer. Blood splashed on the grey stone floor beneath. I looked up. A sudden flash of lightning revealed a man, naked, with hands and feet nailed into splintered wood. I stared in horror, unaware of the darkness leaving the shadows behind. 2. I had composed myself as best I could by the time the police arrived. In the doorway of the church, I hastily explained my findings and escaped into what now seemed a welcome storm. Taking refuge on the nearest bench, I could see the extent of this investigation. Flashing blue lights now replaced the lightning above and countless police officers guarded the crime scene. Sitting with my head in my hands, the horrific images slowly, but vividly came back to me. The deep gashes across the chest. The shattered rib-cage. The thick blood draining from the open wounds in the victim’s side and blood-soaked grey hair clinging to a tortured face. I shook my head to bring me back to the present. My officers would need directing and organising in there and I couldn’t afford to let anything slip on this case. Standing up, I began to walk back through the church grounds. I passed the old oak by the edge of the graveyard; its knarled-fingered branches gripped at the collar of my jacket. A snapping sound behind made me turn. Nothing. I moved on, quickening my pace. A strange sensation had come over me. A shiver stealthily crept down my spine. I had become cold, but my skin felt hot and I was increasingly finding it hard to breathe. I became aware that I could see my weakened breath misting the air in front of me. Was it that cold? Suddenly, a loud, endless shriek came out of the darkness. A thousand tortured cries. The sound was all around me, ringing in my ears. It hurt. I staggered forward, slipping on the mud beneath. I tried to find my bearings but my head was spinning. I fell. As my eyes re-focused, I could see my hands stretched out in front of me, cuts spoiling my skin. The mud by my hands slowly began to move and a burning smell filled my senses. I shook my head in dismay, trying to make some sense of what was happening. No explanation came. I pulled my body away from the ground as the mud boiled beneath. The heat was unbearable. I wanted to move further away, but I was being held. I tried to look up but my head would not move. I was paralysed. My eyes began to stream, and through them, I now noticed flames that roared in front of me. The tears blurred my vision, but then my eyes saw what they should never have seen. A figure, flames dancing from its skin towered above me. Its body, riddled with dark veins, lowered and shuffled forward. Transparent skin stretched across its face, with eyes and a gaping mouth visible underneath. It leered down at me with the darkest eyes. Terror forced me to watch as huge fangs grew from its chest splitting its skin, leaving a dark hole where terrified screams escaped. Its breath hissed against my face as saliva steamed off its own blazing skin. I began to wretch. The stench in the air engulfed me. I needed to escape, but why would my body not respond? What was this evil? Before I could find any answers, flames shot towards me. The hairs on my arms singed in the heat. The smell of my own burning skin filled the air as it tightened and cracked. I screamed! Then there was darkness. “Destruction cometh; and they shall seek peace, and there shall be none.” I. He watched the apparition torment its prey. Yes. Only an apparition. To unleash a real demon into this world, this early, would have ended #life too quickly. No. He wOuld play with him first. He had to. It was the only way. He would take him to the edge of sanity and reason. That would be the only way to upset the balance. Turn the remaining light into dark. Total darkness. his own race would THEN be free. 3. “Mr Wallis…Christopher Wallis. Can you hear me?” I jumped up at the sound of my name, immediately looking in all directions afraid of what I might see. It wasn’t what I was expecting. Darkness had turned to light. Shining white walls surrounded me and as my eyes adjusted to their new found light, I began to realise where I was. I rested my head back down on the pillow and tried to make some sense of why I was here. Before I could recall what had happened, the doctor interrupted. He explained that I had been rushed into hospital last night after being found unconscious by a police officer in the grounds of St Michael's church. I had received minor facial injuries possibly from a fall and apart from this, in his opinion, I was fit and well. I could leave hospital later in the afternoon after final checks had been made. I stared at the ceiling, with the smell of the hospital bringing back vivid memories. It had been five years now. Five years since darkness had crept into my #life. Five years since I had found my wife clinging to the wall of a cave; Jessica screaming our child’s name. Five years since our daughter had drowned. Five years since Erin disappeared. Five years since our lives had changed forever. I closed my eyes. Distant memories and images were now clear. Jessica lay on the hospital bed in front of me, shaking. Still in shock. Concealing my own grief, I stroked my wife’s hair. As tears filled my eyes, Jessica repeated our daughter’s name, over and over. I re-opened my eyes and wiped away the tears that had once more escaped from inside. 4. As Jessica entered the main entrance to the hospital, she immediately saw me sat in a chair by the tea shop. She hugged me tightly and in doing so, I felt the tension loosening from my body. As our bodies parted, I held Jessica’s hands in mine. Leaving the main entrance of the hospital, we made our way across the car park. It was a fresh summer’s day after last night’s storm and the late afternoon sun shone down as we reached our blue Peugeot. Jessica removed the steering lock and started the engine. I smiled and began to relax, welcoming the familiarity. Twenty minutes and we would be home. 5. A soft beeping noise welcomed us as we entered our house. The answer machine in the hallway displayed an awaiting message. Jessica pressed the play button as I went to the kitchen. While reaching up to grab two mugs from the cupboard above my head, I could just hear the faint replaying of the answer-phone message, but could not place the voice. As the kettle began to boil, a scratching sound came from the utility room. I had forgotten about Daisy, our golden retriever. Usually, letting her into the house would be the first thing that I would do because of the warm welcome she always gave, but I knew the need for tea was greater than usual. After opening the door, the dog went through her usual routine of licking me to death, spinning round a number of times and then searching the house for any other people that may have entered her territory. We had bought the dog for Erin when she was six. Daisy used to follow her everywhere she went. They would play for hours in the garden and also in the park that was outside our house. When on long family walks in the woods, Daisy would trot beside Erin, impatiently waiting for crisps or sweets that Erin would sneakily let fall. When Erin routinely fell asleep on the living-room sofa at night, Daisy would carefully climb up and snuggle up beside her. They were happy in each others company and it seemed nothing could ever break their friendship. The kettle clicked and re-focussed my thoughts from the painful memories that were slowly seeping back into my mind. Daisy was now sat at my feet and I hugged her, hoping to make myself feel better. Since losing our daughter, Daisy had slowly become my loyal companion. Maybe it was the fact that I always fed and walked her. Whatever the reason, she would do anything for me. She was my dog. I joined Jessica in the living room and placed the tea on the wooden table in the middle of the room. As I passed the window, light from the sun caught my eye. The sun was slowly setting below the open fields to the west and a warm glow was blanketing the land. The trees by the house stood tall, branches reaching high to caress the last, gentle light of the day. The water sparkled off the meandering river that ran alongside our house and the silhouettes of the trees in the far-off woods were the only shadow on a colourful horizon that offered such a warm feeling to me. What an amazing sight! I had always appreciated nature, and after the twenty-four hours that I had just experienced, it meant even more. Feeling refreshed, I sat down next to Jessica and drank my tea. She told me that the answer message was from Ben Edwards, a colleague at work. He had sent his best wishes and said he would speak to me tomorrow about the case. I would have returned the call if it was not for the lateness of the day. Instead, I settled for a relaxing evening with my wife in front of the television. 6. I lay on the bed as Jessica set the alarm on her bed-side table and kissed me goodnight. As I rested my head on the pillow, images of the murder at the church tried to penetrate my thoughts but I did not let them through. All that I could think of was how lucky I was to have somebody that cared for me. I lay facing Jessica, who was already asleep, and watched her. My eyes slowly closed. 7. A piercing shriek startled me. A jolt threw me from my bed and I landed hard on my back. I had heard that sound before. It filled my body with dread in the graveyard and it was having the same effect now. I opened my eyes searching for some familiarity, but what I saw was foreign to me. The ceiling of the bedroom had been replaced by an angry coloured sky and the shrieking had turned into a thunderous pulsating boom. I stood. Where was I? I scanned what was now a bleak horizon of black steaming rocks and burning trees. Separating the ground, white hot cracks spoiled the land and from these, tormented screams erupted. The very air was polluted and it burnt my lungs as I struggled to breathe. Nature was extinct here. It was everything that I hated. I was not supposed to be here. Footsteps sounded behind me and I spun around. Through the haze of heat, a figure stood in front of me, its features clouded. The dark figure looked in my direction, letting out a terrible scream which pierced through me. My thoughts were telling me to hide, to find somewhere where I could not be seen, but there wasn’t any such place. I turned to run, only to see a second dark featureless figure now barring my way. Anxiously, I changed direction only to now see dark shapes that surrounded me in all directions, all of them facing towards me. I began to realise that their screams were a call to someone, or something, and they wanted to reveal my presence. The sky above started to grow dark and lightning flashed across the sky. A storm was coming. With the ever increasing darkness, the black figures encircled me and were getting closer. The wind blew hard, and above, a swirl of cloud like a tornado ripped horizontally through the sky. Drops of rain began to fall, but it was not water. Blood was falling from the sky and I was being covered by it. It drenched my hair and ran into my mouth. The taste made me vomit. I dropped to the floor and screamed, but the strength of the wind cut my voice short. I felt for the ground, but it wasn’t there. I looked down. I was being picked up by some force and though struggling with all of my strength, I was powerless. I was being taken up into the sky and even though terror was waiting for me on the ground, a new nightmare was with me now. A voice growled words at me that I could not translate and even though I held my hands to my ears, I could still hear it. The same words kept repeating themselves to me, over and over again, louder each time until it hurt. Just as I was giving up hope, I spat out the blood from my mouth and took a deep breath to attempt one final scream. From somewhere, as I emptied my lungs, a power surged from within me and with this new found strength, a light, the brightest I had ever seen filled the sky and extinguished the darkness. I fell. 8. I awoke, huddled on the floor with my head in my hands. Shaking, I peered through tightly clenched fingers. I then realised where I was. Jessica was sat upright in our bed, her confused expression slowly being overtaken once again by tiredness. As she lay back down, I returned to bed next to my wife. 9. Jessica slept silently beside me as I sat upright. I could not get back to sleep. I walked into the bathroom and switched on the light. With my eyes adjusting to the brightness, I looked into the mirror to see a face that was troubled. I noticed that the grey flecks in my short, black hair had spread and there were dark circles under my eyes. I felt old and weary. It wasn’t the dream that was bothering me because throughout my youth, I had so many that they now had little effect. My first investigation at the local church was where my thoughts were. 10. I sat at my desk. I still had much sorting to do in my new office. The chief had given me the morning to complete any tasks that were still out-standing and after already missing a day’s work, I was keen to get things done. By lunch, I felt tired, but I didn’t want it to show. I decided to work quickly after lunch to ensure that I finished early and completed my report concerning the already locally labelled, ‘village crucifixion.’ I had made it clear that I was notified by an officer at 95pm about a disturbance at St Michael’s church in the middle of the village. A local resident, a Mrs D Arkshaw, had heard shouting and screaming coming from the church or surrounding area and telephoned the police immediately. I described the crime scene in detail and also that I had let officers and forensics take over while I went outside for fresh air. I ended the report by saying that it was at this point that I felt unwell. I obviously went into no further detail. On handing in my report, I was stopped in the corridor by Ben. I had spent a number of weeks working alongside him during my trial period for this new position and I immediately saw Ben as a valuable and essential member of the team. He grasped me by the shoulder. “How are you feeling now, Sir?” “Good. Thanks for your call last night. I really appreciate it!” Seeming urgent, Ben pointed towards the far end of the corridor. “Sir. I need you to come with me.” “Where to?” “The morgue.” 11. Pushing the double doors aside, I entered a room to see the coroner washing his hands in the stainless-steel sink in front of me. Without stopping, Ben took me into a side room on the left wing of the morgue. The corridors that we walked through were, as expected, very clean. The walls and floors sparkled in the sunlight that gleamed through the long, slim windows on either side and the smell of disinfectant was strong. On sitting down, I took a deep sigh of relief, as I was half expecting to see a corpse in front of me. Instead, a number of photographs and a transparent plastic bag covered the square-shaped table that was in the middle of the room. Before sifting through what was in front of us, the door opened. The chief coroner, David Morton walked in, still drying his hands. He sat down to our right and began to explain his findings. After hearing the autopsy report, various polaroids were handed out, each one showing either a different angle of the crime scene or detailed images of the deceased, who was now identified as the local priest, Reverend Anthony Williams. I uneasily fingered through the photographs. Why would somebody crucify a priest? I was finding it difficult to understand this one. During the day, the church and its grounds had been carefully searched, but no evidence had been found. I turned towards my colleague. “Ben, we’ll continue the investigation first thing in the morning.” I stood up from my chair. I was alone in doing so. Morton beckoned me to sit back down again. A small plastic bag was handed to me by the coroner. Inside the bag was a scorched and crumpled piece of paper. On one side, blood stained its surface. I looked back at Morton somewhat confused as to why this piece of evidence was important for me to see. I turned the paper over and then I realised. Blood drenched letters spelt out my name. 12. The front door slammed in front of me, making the glass rattle in its frame. Why had Jessica reacted like that? I came home needing a voice of reason, a shoulder to burden, instead I got suspicious questions. I sat down. Daisy sat on the sofa next to me with her head resting on my lap. She momentarily gave me a sense of ease, but that didn’t last for long. I tried to make some sense of it all. My mind raced through various images, all upsetting. Illusions of a flaming body, ghostly black figures, a terrifying voice of words that I did not know and finally that scream. Loud shrieks filled my head and nothing I could do would stop them. Then suddenly there was silence, only to reveal in my mind the piece of paper…my name smeared in congealed blood. I hugged Daisy tight. Why was this happening? 13. “A Week? You can’t take me off this case so soon!” I argued. The Chief Inspector, sat behind his desk. “You are not being taken off the investigation. I suggest to you that you take a week off, paid of course, to give us time to find out more.” The CI stood and walked towards me. “The evidence that was found connects you in some way to this crime. We need to cover ourselves here. I have no choice Chris. Take the week.” I angrily left the building. I felt numb. How could I be connected to the crime? I opened the car door, sat inside and slammed it shut with frustration. Closing my eyes, I gripped the steering wheel in front of me. As my eyes re-opened, I felt a new feeling of determination within myself. I wasn’t going to just sit there and do nothing while others around me questioned my integrity. I took the notebook out from my breast pocket and turned the pages towards the middle of the book. My finger traced the last entry that I had made. I immediately found the information I was looking for. The key in the ignition turned and the engine rumbled to #life. I steered the car onto the main road and drove towards the village church. Mrs Arkshaw had reported the crime and I wanted to know more. II. He watched him leave and smiled. This had taken years. But He had been patient. He knew it would work when the time came. And Now it was time. People had already started to doubt his name. It would not be long before he himself lost faith. Then it would happen. The end for them. The beginning of the darkness.