I. The Peculiarities

 

Darkness; noun; the absence of light.

 

   In the dark things become dangerous and different.  A city street becomes a war zone.  An alley becomes a murder scene.  And worst of all, a human mind becomes a quagmire.

 

   If a threat is made visible, will it terminate itself? 

 

   There is a city where the nights are never dark, no back alley is ever unlit, and no window is ever black.  Does that make it safe?  If you shine a light on a monstrosity, will it just go away?  Do the people of this city still fear, still harm, and still sin?  Does a young child's blue glow protect her from the pain and suffering that comes with life?  Does an elderly gentlemen's feeble orange glow protect him? 

 

   Let's call this the city of the light, or City A.

 

   In an attempt to eradicate the darkness the void in City A was filled with light.  The citizens of City A have a genetic code designed to cause light to radiate from the body.  Whether or not this was a man-engineered feat or a natural anomaly is unknown.  But what good does this constant light accomplish?

 

   It takes away the cover of darkness.  Every time a thief enters a home he is seen.  Every time a rapist approaches a woman he is seen.  Every action, every motive, in City A is seen.

 

 Isn’t it silly, how vast the difference is between the bright blue luminosity of youth and the feeble orange flicker of old age? When the people of City A walk about the streets at night the city looks like a shimmering bauble of blue, white, yellow, and orange.

 

   Isn’t it chilling to think that when a citizen of City A looks at their sister, their father, their neighbor, their lover they know long that person has before they burn out. To look in the mirror and know exactly how long they, themselves, have left before they burn out.

 

Let’s take a look at Case Study 3136.

 

            A single white light stands on a roof top against the jet black night sky. Below him the city is glowing, throbbing, pulsating with life. People see his light and think he is just that, a light. (I was only ever a light, he thought.) He is shaking violently and muttering an incoherent apology. A lone bead of perspiration slides down his right cheek. In the smallest conceivable fraction of time, he becomes nothing more that a streak of light plummeting downwards. He flashes on impact showering the empty street in white. Blood trickles out of his hungry open mouth, but no one sees it, no one is even looking.

 

Case Study 3136 is a prime example of the odd way the people of City A flash just before imminent death. Why this occurs is still unknown.

 

   Another curious peculiarity of City A’s inhabitants is the variation among the intensities of their glows as discussed in Case Study 4962.

 

Here’s Case Study 4962.

 

            A young woman with short black hair and a strong blue glow walks along a desolate city street. Her green dress flutters in the wind. It is about to rain. Cars hum on the busy streets blocks away from where she is. An old street light, from a time long forgotten, flickers then dies. A man with a yellow glow pursues her only yards away. She realizes that she is not alone. (Is anyone ever alone?) She quickens her pace until she reaches the corner than she starts to run. But the man begins to run too. His legs are longer and he takes larger strides so he quickly over comes her. He strikes her over the head with a pipe. His hand clasps around her mouth to smother her cry as he drags her into a damp alley. There, the real horror story begins. He beats and violates her until her bright blue glow has diminishes into nothing more than a feeble glimmer. Her youth, her innocence, her heart tainted.

 

Case Study 4962 is the chief demonstration of how the intensity of a citizen can fade and decrease. What exactly triggers the change is unknown. Though, it is likely that it is induced by a traumatic situation. It is known that a change in a glow’s intensity is not reversible.

 

The citizens of City A still fear, still harm, and still sin.

 

If the light does not alleviate the anathemas of life, does it make them worse?

 

YES.

Reviews

[Tyler Lesco]

I really liked reading this. Maybe I would have spent more time introducing the light concept. I liked the how you wrote it from an impassive stance, someone set apart from the city, but still managed to be familiar enough for it to seem like a person to me.
Overall, cold, sickening, and intriguing.