I See Black Light

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
EDIT: I know there is a discrepancy in the story when It comes to the car scene. I am just too lazy to fix it, ignore it please.
A man awakes in a location unknown to him, and as he wanders this mysterious place, peculiar things follow him. Only to at the end of his walk does he discover the meaning behind these events, and where it is that he wanders.

Submitted: August 26, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 26, 2016



I See Black Light

A man awoke from a slumber. His eyes fluttered open and he gasped as if waking from a horrible nightmare, like a cliche from a mediocre horror movie. He lay on a bus bench in the open, covered in worn-out clothes and a blanket. The cold creeped over his body and he knew not where he woke or how he got there. He remained surprisingly placid and unmoved by his current predicament. He arose from the bus bench to his feet. With blood rushing to his brain he put his hands to his temples and grunted.

He stumbled forward as if he was in a heavy hangover. He removed his hands from his head and blinked, the bright colors protruded into his eyes, nearly blinding him and his ears began to ring with tinnitus. He regained his balance and stepped forward, regaining his senses slowly.

The man stood at the edge of a sidewalk, and he looked out in front of him at the empty and quiet street. Gazing, up and down the street, he saw no cars, no people, no traffic, no energy nor excitement. Just an empty street of a once booming city that has fallen from it’s glory days. The atmosphere was eerie and cold, and some of the buildings were falling victim to mother nature herself. The street lights were off, either burned out or shattered. The sun was beginning its nightly routine of disappearing over the horizon, inching closer to the edge. The fading light consumed the dilapidated city, the only noticeable thing that illuminated the asphalt was the ever-changing glow of green, red, and yellow of the traffic lights.

Suddenly, the man heard a quiet shuffle behind him. He turned around and saw a young looking woman wearing in a little black dress, leaning against the side of an apartment building. She was not there before, and the man wondered how she got there so quietly and how he did not notice her. There was bile that lay in a puddle in front of the woman. So the man approached her with gentility, knowing not this woman and her story.

As he got closer to this woman, he noticed she trembled, from the cold or other reasons. She held her elbow with the other arm across her midsection. He could hear the short gasps for breath and the soft whimpers of the woman as she softly cried. Her unkempt hair dangled in front of her face, tangled and lack-luster. There was little to this woman, no muscle or fat to the arms or legs that showed, and her trembling continued. She was nothing more but a walking ghost of her former self.

“Miss, are you okay?” said the man. There was a pause, her breathing seized.

“You’re just like me, aren’t you? I can feel it. I can see it in your soul, little boy.” She replied. As she spoke her hair moved with her breath. She had a grit to her voice that didn’t fit her nimbleness. Looking up at him, she parted her hair to reveal her face, the face of an elderly woman.

“AREN’T YOU?” Screamed the woman, “All this and that on the outside. But what’s on the inside, huh?” She cackled. Her laugh filled the streets and her cackle sent tremors down the man’s spine. She moved her legs and the man could hear the clicking of her frail bones in her legs as she stepped forward to the man. Click. Click. Click.

“You’re just like me! Hehe! Always walking around with a pep in your step and broad shoulders like you’re on your way to a king’s feast, right?”

She talked quickly and stuttering, sounding of someone who belonged in the lowest level rooms in a mental ward.

“You’re just like me! Hiding a secret, yes? Hiding a shameful little white lie inside! Oh, yes. I can smell it, smell it right on you. You don’t fool me. We’re the same, you and I.”

Frightened, he jumped back as she inched closer to him, she grabbed his face by the cheeks and gazed into his eyes.

“You’re just like me! AREN’T YOU LITTLE BOY!”  

She stuck her middle and index fingers down her throat. No bile came out, only she disintegrated in front of him, into a cloud of dust that fell to the ground in front of him. It started to whisk away in the breeze, and there was silence. The sound of silence crowded the entire vicinity as the remains of the woman washed away.

Alarmed, but with a surprising lack of shock, the man turned around. The traffic light changed from green to yellow, then to red. He wondered about his absence of feeling to the event.

He looked down the empty road and saw the sun beginning to set over the hill. The sky turned a hue of orange and red. A fire was ignited in the sky, and the small clouds danced around it, like an ancient ritual.

The man began to hear a sound of an engine getting closer, as it got louder and louder. Soon, he saw a car coming down the street, opposite of the source of the sky’s fire. The headlights became brighter and brighter as it approached the curb of the sidewalk, and it screeched to a halt right in front of the man as he walked to the curb. The vehicle was a red sedan, luxurious in style but poor in it’s paint job and upkeep.

No one drove the car, no driver or machine operating it. No one was in the passenger seat, either. The driver door then opened on the other side of the car with a click, opening wider and wider, beckoning him to get in.

“Excuse me sir,” The man nearly jumped out of his shoes. “Could you please drive us to my apartment, I seemed to have misplaced my driver. He’s always running around these days. I have money!” Said a woman in the back of the car, with a slight chuckle.

She was a middle aged woman with shorter, dark hair. The quite noticeable speckles and bumps on her face told a story of an insatiable desire to stay young and beautiful, and still unable to cover up the dark eye circles that naturally come with age.

Accompanying her was a man who looked about the same age He wore a gray suit and tie completed with a head of white hair, slicked over to the side and an upright posture at all times told a story of complete and utter narcissism. Made of money, he was. Something that anybody can love with a little bit of convincing.

Something compelled the man forward and he walked to the other side of the car, where he then got into the driver's seat of the limo car. He wasn’t entirely sure why he got in the car, but he did, and she started to drive down the abandoned road. The hum of the engine was the only sound in the streets.

Silence came from the back of the car. There was no whispering or shuffling with every bump in the road as he drove. He looked in the rearview mirror only to see the two people staring straight in front of them, expressionless and motionless. Blank in the eye, they were. This put out a general sense of unease.

As some time passed, suddenly there was an outburst of rage from the woman.

“What are you talking about? I gave you everything! You would be nowhere without me!” There was no response from the man in the back seat. He continued to stare ahead with no expression, just a blank face.

“Is it because I’m getting old? Is it because I’m gaining weight? Tell me, you coward! Tell me! I’ll do anything. Liposuction if you want, surgery to rid my wrinkles! I love you Jon!”

The man looked in the rearview mirror at the man in the back seat, Jon as was his name. The woman looked at him, tears running down her face, smearing the mascara. There was pure desire in her eyes. The man pulled over to the curd, where a junk car laid in a pile of rubble, burned and nothing more.

“Is everything alright back there?” Said the man.

Suddenly. The woman stopped crying. And became a statue once again with her blank expressions. Now the man named Jon began to move out of his statue like state.

“I’ve moved on, Clara. Your time is up, you’re done. Out. Game over.” said the man named Jon in an evil whisper, something wicked came out with his voice. A low and scratchy voice. She did not move from her catatonic state.

Jon reached down into his pocket, only to pull out a pistol. With no hesitation, pointed the gun at her, and he shot Clara point blank.

The man’s primal instinct kicked in and he slammed the brakes of the car. It screeched to a halt in the middle of the road and he jumped and rolled into the street, in complete and utter shock as he crawled away from the car, and then there was another shot fired that light up the car for a split second.

Catching his breath and in some form of shock and terror, the man stood up and walked over to the car with caution, trembling as he approached it. He gazed inside through the glass. He saw no blood, no man or no woman. It was an empty sedan.

None of this truly scared the man. Alarmed, on edge, yes, but not horrified. He just looked away from the car and began to walk down the road. Again, he wondered why he had such a lack of feeling. How would a murder-suicide not frighten the man, he thought. He wondered why he truly did not feel the adrenaline that was supposed to be rushing through him. The lights once again changed from green to yellow to red, and there was yet to be another vehicle to be found, and the streetlights were still out.

The man continued down the road, looking up at the skyscrapers above him, shooting themselves into the heavens. A feeling of inadequacy took over his body and he felt small, he felt like nothing. The world did not need him there. No one was around, so why should he be?

He looked down from the buildings and saw a figure at the end of the road, where the asphalt met the horizon. So the man approached it, and walked down the quiet road. His shoes echoed across the buildings and came back to his ears, it was the only sound there was.

As he got closer to the figure, he began to make out what looked to be a boy in a suit and tie standing at the end of the road. The boy looked right at the man, motionless. The man stared at this boyish figure in the distance until the figure beckoned for him to approach him, using his fingers to draw him closer. The same force that told him to tell him to approach the woman in the black dress and to get in the car and drive told him to walk over to the figure as it instructed the man to do, so he did.

He approached the boy, and noticed nothing peculiar about him. He was small, looking about six or seven, but well dressed. Not a boy if say twelve or thirteen, as he might have thought. The man felt a bit intimidated by the boy, he gave off an aura that told of importance, a strange vibe that he was not of this world, but something else. Almost like the man was imagining this boy.

“Hello.” Said the boy.

“Hey there.” Said the man.

“I find it fascinating, really,” he spoke with an english accent. He sounded proper, like he was raised to be that way.“How little one can feel when they look up at the heavens. Do you not agree?”

“I agree. But my question is, what is this place?”

The boy looked up at the man, gazed at him, and returned his stare to the skyline  of the never ending cityscape.

“Worry not about where you are, but why you are here. For things are never as they seem, correct? I’ll tell you one thing, you are nowhere, you have not moved from the spot from which you started.”

“What do you mean?” the man replied. “Who are you?”

“Oh dear, you’re silly, truly! I’m you of course! Don’t you know what this place is?”

The man shook his head.

“You’re here!” He shouted as he pointed a dainty finger straight between my eyes. The boy seemed excited to have told him where the man is. “You're in your own mind, in your own body. I said before, isn't it fascinating how small you can feel, even in your own head?”

“Then why am I here? ”

The little boy looked at him and grinned, like he had a secret that he was just dying to tell.

“Would you like to find out?”

The man hesitated. He knew is his heart what was going to happen next as he heard the cocking of a gun next to him, and he continued to look out at the never ending plane of skyscrapers. It went on for miles, beyond the Earth’s curvature. An endless array of buildings falling apart. A canvas of red, green, and yellow speckles in the sea of gray. Trees grew in between the cities network of streets. He felt calm.

“I want to go home. This is not home.”

“I'm afraid you’re already there.”

A gunshot sounded, and everything went black for a few seconds. The man felt the ground hit him, and he wondered why he was still consciously aware of his surroundings. He could not move, and he felt a rush of wind come over his motionless body. Somehow, he knew what was going to happen next.

The man opened his eyes slowly to find himself blinded by white light. Slow beeping from a machine next to him sounded and there was that sound and nothing else.

“Oh my god, oh my god. You’re awake. Brody, Brody? Can you hear me?” said a woman’s voice next to him.

He nodded his head slowly, which took all of the energy out of his body and caused his vision to blur and the world to spin around him.

“Wh...what...what happened?” The man named Brody mustered.

“Oh dear, you don’t remember, do you? It’s 2016, sweety.”

He could barely understand what she said, it sounded like her voice was being pushed through a tank of water. Brody once again shook his head. Which again drained his body of all his energy.

The woman continued to talk to him until her voice began to clear out and he began to understand the majority of her words. He was finally able to make out one of the things that she had said.

“Honey, you drank a bottle of sleeping pills back in two thousand fourteen.”

© Copyright 2020 N.E. Lucke. All rights reserved.

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