The Darkroom

�Fear is that little darkroom where negatives are developed.�- Michael Pritchard

Danielle wasn’t Satanic. She was raised Catholic, but had an unmanageable curiosity. She was a good photographer, too, despite the things she liked to capture on film. When we were younger, we used to take pictures of everything we saw. I grew out of it, but her love of pictures developed into something stronger.

I went over to her house every day after school. We did our homework and gossiped and did things that teenagers liked to do. And even though we both just turned eighteen, we still liked to act as if we were children. I blew on my gloved hands and proceeded to knock on her door. Snow was coming soon. No one answered the door so I used the key Danielle gave me “just in case”.

She called in sick so I expected her to be suffering in bed, but I couldn’t find her anywhere. Her house was rather small, and added to its homey feeling. She lived with her single mother, who was too busy at work to clean the home. That was Danielle’s job, and she hated it. I sighed in frustration after I searched the entire house and dropped onto the living room couch. Looking over my shoulder, I spied a door that I was always curious about. The door was in the hallway that led to the bathroom. It almost seemed to blend in with the wallpaper. No one was home and I knew they wouldn’t catch me. I turned the knob and walked into the dark.

There was no light switch, and I understood why when I saw the pictures hanging on a clothesline that was strung across the small room. I looked at them, and soon looked away. Bloody objects and animals, fearful images of horrors unknown to my mind, and overall macabre depictions of things I didn’t understand hung from those brown clips. The door closed behind me and I knew I was in trouble.

“Do you like them?” Danielle asked, her voice oddly cool.

I didn’t say anything. What was I supposed to say? They weren’t very inviting and certainly not cheerful, but still…they held some sort of disturbing beauty. I just nodded.

“My pride and joy,” she murmured walking over to the tub. She dipped an undeveloped picture into the basin with her tongs, and looked at it lovingly. “This is art, Rach. This is my life.”

This was not Danielle. She was always eccentric, but this behavior was just odd. She turned to look at me, and I flinched unconsciously.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, truly concerned. “Did I frighten you?”

“Why…why do you take these pictures?”

Danielle smiled affectionately. That smile was grating my nerves. “The things I capture sow the ugly side of humanity. The imperfection you all constantly deny.”

The way she said it made me wonder. You all. As if she wasn’t a part of humanity. There was a change in the way she spoke. Her wording sounded more eloquent, and she spoke with an undertone of superiority. Her voice made me shiver, and I looked at the door she was blocking.

“You look nervous,” Danielle said smoothly. “Don’t worry. I’ll show you the reason soon.”

She opened the door and motioned for me to join her. I didn’t want to seem too eager to leave, so I walked deliberately slow. I sat on the couch as she got us soda. She hummed, and her voice was enough to make everything seem normal. But it wasn’t. With shaking hands, I turned on the television and pulled out my homework.

“Hey, can you believe Ms. Fuller? She thinks we can learn this stuff in two days.”

Danielle was back to her usual self. She set the cans on the coffee table and sat down next to me. I looked at her shining green eyes and her smile. Nothing on the outside had changed, and yet I glimpsed at something inside of her that perturbed me greatly.

“Yeah, she’s crazy,” I said half-heartedly.

She didn’t seem to notice my uneasiness and started on her English homework. I followed suit, but soon realized my normally scrupulous handwriting was shaky. I took a few slow breaths to calm me down, and tried not to look over at that door. Instead, I focused on Othello. I really didn’t like Shakespeare, so it did nothing to ease my concern. I put down my pencil, deciding to watch the T.V instead.

“Your parents will kill you if you don’t get this done,” Danielle said concernedly. “They’re so anal about your grades.”

I focused on Spongebob as he unknowingly tortured Squidward, but found the show somewhat less amusing than I usually did. I was afraid of being too conspicuous in my efforts to ignore that horrible door.

“Dani, where are your parents?” I asked, trying to make easy conversation.

Oh, they went away for some business or other,” she said, biting the tip of her pencil. “They expect me not to trash the house.”

She sent me a wicked smile, and I wanted to forget what I saw behind that door. So I just pretended to.

“Are you going to invite Justin?” I said, finally calm.

Danielle looked at me with innocence. “Where?”

I elbowed her lightly. “To the party you told your parents you weren’t going to have.”

“Nah, I don’t think I’m inviting him,” she said, taking a sip from her soda. That surprised me. She pined after him for five years like an obsessed schoolgirl. “But there are going to be some other people you don’t know.”

“Really?” I said. “How do you know these people?”

She shrugged. “I’ll tell you soon. But, be cool ‘cuz they’re kind of weird.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Weird how?”

“They talk funny,” Danielle stated simply.

Thoughts of our conversation in the dark room arose, and I tried to quell them with Shakespeare. I filled in the answers on the line and glanced up to see the yellow sponge a few times. After we finished, we went outside to meet our friends at the park. I didn’t tell any of them about the darkroom or the photographs.

Things continued as normal. I almost thought that what I saw was just a figment of my imagination. But whenever I looked at the door, I remembered the gruesome pictures hanging beyond it. I then began to scold myself. They were just pictures. So what if Danielle had a morbid curiosity, it didn’t mean she was mentally unstable or anything. I remembered her behavior, though, and knew I was only in denial.

Danielle was not the person I thought I knew.

-

The second time I saw the darkroom was on purpose. Danielle brought me in to show me her new pictures. She spoke of them with that erudite drawl of hers that disappeared as soon as we walked out of that door. She spoke of how she found the grotesque sacrifices and showed me the scars of the places she cut herself.

“Why do you do that?” I said, staring at the criss-cross of wounds on her arms.

“Blood is just amazing,” she replied, tracing the lines on her skin. “It’s our life force. We can’t live without it.”

“Then keep it in your body.”

She laughs. “I just want to see the miracle liquid that fuels my entire existence. Don’t you?”

“No, not really,” I said, pulling down her shirt sleeve. I didn’t want to look at her arms anymore.

I walked out of the room, not wanting to hear another disgusting description of her escapades. We did our normal routine, and she returned to her usual self. The visits became a ritual. She’d take new pictures and show them to me. I’d nod nervously and leave soon after. It continued like that until the party. I helped her set up. I chose the music, food, and rearranged the furniture. She ran around like a rabbit on speed and fixed the minutest things.

“Dani, calm down!” I said, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“I know, I know,” she replied, still bouncing in my grip. “It’s just…I want my friends to be happy. Ya know, the weird ones.”

I snorted. “If they’re that weird, I’m sure they’ll enjoy anything.”

We continued preparations until seven, when the guests began arriving. I greeted them at the door as the hostess set all of the food out. A few times, a clearly drunk friend tried to get me to dance with them, but I faithfully remained at the door. The guests were soon jumping on couches and tearing off their cheap clothes. I rolled my eyes.

I knew it when the weirdoes arrived. They were all wearing white clothes and weird pendants around their necks. They seemed to be around my age, if not older. The first thing that came to mind was ‘cult’. No one else cared -or noticed, for that matter- and continued to wreak havoc.

“Welcome to the evening’s blow-out,” I said monotonously. “Food’s on the table, music’s on the stereo, and sex’s on the bed.”

Damn Danielle for that horrible slogan. At least most people laughed. The weirdoes didn’t.

“I didn’t make that up,” I said defensively.

They ignored me and walked in. However, one stopped, bent down, and kissed my hand. Weird then became an understatement.

“I’m guessing you’re Rachel,” he said, standing straight. “Dani told me a lot about you.”

“Really,” I said suspiciously, resisting the urge to wipe my hand on my jeans. “Like what?”

He just smiled and walked away. I went to find Danielle, and saw her speaking to Justin. His smile was oozing with false of course. I pulled her away and ignored her protests.

“Who the hell are those people?” I almost yelled.

“What people?” she asked with a whining tone.

“The weirdoes in white,” I said.

“Oh, those are the people I was telling you about,” she said cheerfully. “Let me introduce you properly.”

Danielle waved to Justin and led me to the strange group. They hugged and kissed and I just stood back behind her.

“Guys, this is who I was telling you about. Rachel,” she said, grabbing my arm and pulling me next to her. “She is the funniest person you’ll ever meet.” I looked at her cynically. “Okay,” Danielle continued,” this is Amarie.”

She pointed to a blonde girl with a nose piercing. She was exceptionally skinny, but it suited her angular face. Amarie smiled affectionately; I smiled somewhat back.

“Matthew.”

Matthew was thin too, and looked a lot like Amarie. They were most likely siblings. They both had blonde hair and green eyes. He didn’t smile, only nodded. He seemed like the silent sort.

“Vito.”

He was plump, but not exceptionally overweight, and very tall. He had green eyes that were red-rimmed from lack of sleep. He smiled exhaustedly, and I nodded with a half-smile. I was afraid he’d collapse right in front of me.

“Last and least, Liam.”

He rolled his eyes at Danielle’s jab. I noticed for the first time that he had green tints in his blonde hair, most likely from dye. They matched his eerily green eyes. Come to think of it, all of them had green eyes and blonde hair. Even Danielle. It was eerie, and I almost felt like an outcast with my red hair and brown eyes. However, they were kind enough when she left. I wasn’t good with meeting little people, and I preferred the friends I already managed to obtain with my lack of social adroitness.

“When did you meet Dani?” Amerie inquired, sitting on top of a table.

It was hard to hear her soft voice over the clamor of voices and music.

“I knew her since we were little,” I almost shouted.

“Was she just as eccentric?” Vito, the fatigued giant, asked with a grin.

“No,” I replied. “She was even more eccentric.”

They laughed, clearly knowing Danielle as well as I did. That was our first connection. Our second connection was our humor which mostly pertained to the wacky things Danielle did (such as jumping off a bridge, stripping, and threatening to send her teacher to the principal’s office). The way they talked about her, it was almost as if she was amazing. Sure, she was pretty damn great, but the way they spoke of her made it seem as if she was the Messiah.

After a while, they roamed away and only Liam remained. We talked nonchalantly about the weather and such until he stood and opened the door to the darkroom. I was surprised by such an action; I knew that room wasn’t a place Danielle introduced to most people. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the darkroom. I heard the click of a lock and drew back in fear. He seemed harmless when I first met him, but I was beginning to wonder if I was good at judging people. The images taunted me as they hung from their pins.

“You don’t know yet, do you?” he said, walking closer.

I knew I couldn’t avoid him in the tiny room. “Know what?”

“What Danielle really is,” he replied, his voice low.

In the dark, his emerald eyes gave off a sort of glow. They reminded me of a cat’s. I backed away a bit more, but he still followed.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sure you’re aware of her mood swings,” he said. I was about to reply, but he spoke again before I could, moving a bit closer. “Aren’t you curious about what causes them?”

He was only centimeters away now and I tried not to breathe. What was he talking about? Danielle was always eccentric, what with all of her photographs, and I was never the least bit curious about her constant PMS.

“Liam, what are you doing?”

Danielle was standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. Smiling, he turned around and walked up to her.

“We have to do it sometime,” he told her and walked out.

She closed the door and sighed. Her eyes were red and her body was hunched slightly. I was about to tell her to lay down when she said he strangest thing.

“Don’t ever speak to him.”

Danielle didn’t sound angry or annoyed, only reluctant.

“You won’t have to worry about that,” I said. “He’s freaky.”

She smiled a bit and opened the door. After she left to attend to her wild guests, I stood in the vacant room. At the time, I thought it was strange. I hated that room. It was filled with ghastly images and horrifying things. There was a small chair, and I sat on it for the rest of the party, finally looking at the hanging prints.

That room would soon become my refuge.

Author's Note

I'm a little iffy on this chapter, so con-crit is greatly appreciated. The atmosphere seems a little off and I think some things go too fast. So, any suggestions are welcomed.

Reviews

[tayzer--]

I'll start by saying this chapter was good, like your others. And very intriguing. (sp?)
I agree that this chapter was a bit rushed. Not bad quality of writing or anything, the scene just seemed to go really fast. You could maybe describe some of the other people at the party, as well. Say something like, "the usual partiers were there. Dressed up--or down--I guess you could say. For them, less was clearly more." Just to not focus the whole party-scene on the strange guests.
Other than that, it's pretty awesome. Great job, again. I'm excited to read on.

[veronica.voodoo]

Okay so i have just read your previous chapters and dumping all my critiques into this single one. First off, great plot; it's so unique amongst all vampire/werewolf/zombie themes going around today with supernatural and occult novels. Second of all, it's clear you have the talent to spin words into an amazing world that seems just as believable and unbelievable as our world. And third, i love the feel of this; it's so dark and rich, it is just so fascinating!
Now on to critiques. i can't complain much. As for things going to fast, i agree. It jumps from seeing the room, to party, to weirdos. Maybe this is just me, but when you mentioned 'cult' all i could picture was people in robes and (for some random reason) spiky hair on the guys. Maybe instead of throwing everything into this, you could have separated it into two chapters and the focused more closely on each. yeahhh...that's. great job and i hope to read more.

[nostal]

Awesome, again, again, again. Although there is just a small feeling that it is rushed as you've mentioned. Other than that this is good.
:)

[EliLies]

I can't complain much on this chapter.
The only thing I'd like to say, and agree with both of you, is that it was in fact a bit rushed.
I found two little mistakes. (I'm pretty much a perfectionist, despite the fact that my writing is anything but perfect :])

"No, not really," I said, pulling down her shirt sleeve. I didn't want to [look] at her arms anymore.
They were all wearing white clothes [and] weird pendants around their necks.

They're obviously just simple mistakes, but remember to proof read.
But, other than that, it was very good.
You had me thinking, "Oh my God" at the end of the chapter.

I'm dying for more ;]