What We Fear In The Darkness

The orange glow in the kitchen seemed almost alive as the candles flickered, sending shadows dancing around the room. The creeping vampire sneaked silently toward Jonah and his wife, as they stood by the sink, deep in conversation, unaware of the menace approaching from behind. 

“All I am saying Steph, is you have to stop worrying,” Jonah said as he pulled the dripping bowl from the soapy water and passed it to his wife, “it’s just a power cut, we’ve had them before.”

“Yes I know,” said Steph as she took the bowl to dry, “but it’s been three days.”

The vampire was now halfway across the room, his steps silent. He ran his tongue over his fangs, moistening them in readiness for his pray.

“I get it’s longer than normal,” said Jonah, his voice sounded calm, but he too had to admit it was unusual, “it’s just a problem at the plant, they said they were working on it.”

The vampire was now right behind the couple. He stretched himself upward, his arms out wide, his black cloak raising with him, stretching out like the wings of a bat. If either Jonah or Steph had looked around, they would have seen the ominous shadow projected on each wall. But it was now too late. The beast jumped upwards, clinging to Jonah’s back like a deranged monkey. With a loud screech, the vampire buried his face into Jonah’s bare neck. Steph screamed as she quickly stepped backwards, away from the creature.

“Charlie, that is disgusting, why are the fangs so wet?” asked Jonah, he had to give it to his son, for a moment he had made him jump.

“I imagined vampire’s bites would probably be a little sloppy.” The small boy dropped off the back of his father, turning to his mother he began to laugh, holding his hand to his stomach. “You were so scared.”

“No, I wasn’t,” said Steph composing herself, “now go and get your wellies on, we are already an hour late.” Charlie ran out of the kitchen, his cape floating behind. “And take that costume off, you can’t go dressed like that.”

“Oh it’s ok, if he wants to wear it where’s the harm?” Jonah spoke softly as he dried his hands, not wanting for his son to hear him contradict Steph. “I suppose it’s still acceptable to dress up if it’s the week of halloween, right? Besides he’ll wear his coat, no one will see.”

“And the fangs?” asked Steph, raising an eyebrow.

“Well…” Jonah thought for a moment, “people might just think he has a deformity, we can just explain we can’t afford the corrective braces, you know, make them feel bad so they're a bit less judgey.”

 “Jonah, they glow in the dark.”

“Yeh, fair point…” Jonah smiled at Steph, “he really did shit you up you know.” Jonah laughed as the wet tea towel, thrown by Steph, hit him in the face.

****

The field was caked in wet mud, the sort that sucked your shoes, committed to ruining your socks and trousers as you had to try and pull the shoe free, whilst balancing on one leg. Despite the blackout, there was still a jovial atmosphere for the bonfire, the sound of generators rumbling as they lit the scattered food trucks, rides and stalls. Small playful screams from the children sang out from the rides. It felt normal, even if the surrounding streets were drenched in darkness.

Jonah took a deep breath, inhaling the night, tasting it. There was no other night that tasted like this. Every year the same smell, fried doughnuts and hotdogs, tainted by the strong, but oddly pleasant odour of smoke from the great bonfire that burnt orange in the middle of the field. It was a welcome smell of smoke, on the night anyway, but soon became a hindrance as it lingered in hair and on clothes for days after. Around the bonfire groups of people stood, their figures silhouetted, featureless. Jonah and his family had missed the burning of the guy, as they had arrived late, but even Charlie did not seem to mind as he trudged closely behind, munching on a dark red toffee apple, the bottom of which was covered in fine, hairlike fibres from where it had stuck to his gloves. His coat did cover most of the costume, all except the black cloak that to Steph’s dismay he had opted to wear over the top of his coat and that now billowed out behind him in the wind. 

“Dad, can I have a go?” Charlie asked, as he ran ahead and then stopped before a ride that was slowly turning, eight different coloured, poorly painted small planes attached to individual mechanised arms as they raised up and down. Every year it was this one ride that attracted him.

‘The fireworks will commence in five minutes time,’ the announcement ended with a screech of feedback that leaked through the speakers.

“Ok,” Jonah said, glancing at his watch, “but just one go.”

By the time Jonah had bought Charlie his ticket, the ride had stopped and was now filling with the next passengers. Charlie ran to the plane that was coated in a fading blue finish, the paint pealing. Just before he reached the plane, a much larger girl, who must have been in her teens, and Jonah could not help but think was too old for the ride, beat Charlie to the plane. Jonah could hear Charlie muttering to himself in disappointment as he had to run round to the other side of the ride, just managing to reach the last free plane.  With a loud whirring, the planes began to spin. Jonah watched as all the children raised their planes to the highest possible angle, the only one not keeping it there, was Charlie, as he raised the plane upward and then instantly brought it back down, before going back up and down again. Apparently he liked the way it felt to keep going up and down quickly, in Charlie’s words, ‘it made his tummy bubble,’ Jonah had never worked out what his son meant by that.

Jonah flinched as a loud high pitch squeal whistled all around, before a tremendous bang sent echoes reverberating through the night. The field, for a moment, was bathed in light. Jonah smiled as his wife who was stood near a candy stall, a few metres away, talking to her sister. He then looked back to Charlie who was coming back round from the far side of the ride. As he approached Jonah, the ride slowed, before stopping, the lights flickering and the going out completely, The buzzing noise from the generators was replaced by silence as the strip of rides and stalls was draped in darkness. The crowd around seemed to remain calm, perhaps acclimatised to the dark after the three days of blackout. In the distance, Jonah heard shouts coming from the centre of the town, shouts that then turned into screams.

Wizz… BANG.

A firework  crescendoed over head, illuminating the darkness. People started to move, at first slowly, however as they too heard the screams which now seemed closer, the crowds started to panic and run, knocking into one another. Jonah, turned looking to his son a few feet on the other side of the metal barrier, as the darkness fell again. There was a deafening scream, this time much closer, coming from the ride.

Wizz… BANG.

  With the light of another series of fireworks, Jonah could see the blue plane, that like many was stuck high in the air, was now empty, the teenage girl nowhere in sight. 

Jonah jumped the metal railing and ran toward Charlie, who was luckily on a downward turn as the power had cut. 

Wizz… BANG.

Jonah grabbed his son from the ride, pulling him up into his arms. More screams erupted from around him each time the darkness fell. Taking Charlie, Jonah began to run toward Steph, only finding his way between the crowd when the fireworks granted light.

Wizz… BANG.

“LISA!” Steph was screaming hysterically around her when Jonah reached her side. 

Wizz… BANG.

“What, what is it?” asked Jonah as he looked around. 

“It’s Lisa, she was right here, holding my hand and then… I… I felt something and… LISA!” Steph shouted again into the dark. 

Wizz… BANG.

Steph and Jonah looked around frantically before it was black again. 

As Jonah looked, he saw the glow of orange light seeping between the food trucks, like a beacon. 

Wizz… BANG.

With  the light Jonah noticed that people who had been by his side, moments before were now gone. 

“Come on, this way,” he shouted, carrying Charlie in one arm, who had buried his face into Jonah’s shoulder and using his free hand to grab hold of Lisa, and drag her toward the bonfire. 

Rushing across the field, Jonah could see others had the same idea, a large group had already circled the flames, their bodies blacking out the glow and shortening its reach into the field, replaced by their elongated shadows. 

Wizz… BANG. 

The noise was deafening, but not from the fireworks, from the screams that mixed with people desperately calling the names of their loved ones, who had some how now gone. Other families had taken to running toward the flames, alongside Jonah’s. 

Wizz… BANG.

The light showed that many of them were no longer there. 

As Jonah reached the outer ring of the crowd gathered by the fire, he ran past a woman, stood on the edge of the glow, desperately calling a name out into the darkness. 

This close to the fire, it was hot, bordering uncomfortably so, the smell of smoke overpowering. 

Wizz… BANG.

More people were running toward the fire, but the presumed safety of the orange glow was reaching capacity quickly. Jonah saw a family of three running directly toward him, illuminated by the fireworks like flares over head. As the light died, just for a moment, Jonah heard a strange clicking sound in the darkness, before another firework whistled to life.

Wizz… BANG.

Jonah looked out ready to welcome the family into the last remaining space, however it was only the one girl who reached the circle. The young girl turned, expecting to see her parents close behind. They were gone. She began to sob, large tears falling from her wide eyes as she stared at nothingness in the fading light. 

Wizz… BANG.

Jonah’s eyes were also wide as he looked out to where the girl’s parents had been moments before, nothing left but lingering screams. 

The screams although still present, were getting less frequent as the finale of the fireworks kicked in, illuminating the field for longer. Jonah looked out. Where there had been thousands of people, enjoying the celebrations, the rides, the stalls, they were now silent, still. The last firework burnt out, small embers splintering down to the ground. A final few screams erupted, but then, relative silence, the only sounds coming from the muttering and weeping of those still left in the light of the fire. No more screams, no more chaos, no one else.

Gradually Jonah’s arm began to tire, reluctantly, he lowered Charlie to the ground, still holding tightly to his hand. A wind had now picked up, blowing the smoke into the group on the other side of the flames. With the wind, droplets of water started to fall from the sky, slowly at first before a heavy downfall ensued. 

The fire although still burning tall, was now smaller than before. As Jonah observed, the edge of the orange glow seemed to slowly creep closer to where he was stood. He wrapped his free arm around Steph, since she had lost her sister she had not said a word, just stood close by and had now taken to comforting the young girl, alone, by their side. As she felt Jonah’s arm around her, she drew near snuggling her head into his shoulder.

The silence was broken, not by screams from the dark, but form raised voices near the fire. 

“Move out of my way… Just move!”

Jonah turned to see what was going on. At six-two he was taller than a lot of the group allowing him to see over the crowd. In the group closest to the fire, a man was pushing against the people in front of him.

“Fucking move… It’s too hot, I can’t anymore, get out of my way!”

As he shoved into the crowd, others who were the closest to the flames seemed to join in the pushing, more voices raising.  As the group pushed outwards, Jonah could feel the crowd pushing against him, pushing him and his family closer to the edge of the glow. Others around Jonah began to panic as they saw that they too were getting closer to the darkness. They raised their voices, competing with the group in the centre as they desperately pleaded, the noise causing a chaotic, incoherent drone. Still the outer ring was being pushed back.

A momentary scream erupted over the ruckus before being dampened, as if a wet towel smothering a flame. A man, a few metres from Jonah had been pushed out of the warm light. Over the rain there was the sound like a rush of wind that introduced the following silence. The horrific scream was enough to stop the chaotic pushing on both sides.

Jonah turned around, looking again into the darkness that now lay only a foot away. It sounded strange but the darkness seemed to look darker than it should, a real blackness that was unfamiliar in the world of lights. As Jonah stared out, he felt something warm on his face, like wind, but shorter, rhythmic, and going against the wind that blew from behind him. In the warmth was a smell, an unpleasant odour that reminded Jonah of rotting meat. He stared still into the darkness, unable to see anything, but he felt like something stared back, watching him. Jonah stared still, not noticing that Charlie’s cape was blowing more violently, raising higher behind his back as he looked inward toward the centre of the group. The cape blew higher and in the process closer to the darkness. The next moment, before Jonah could take his eyes from the invisible presence, he felt an incredible force jerking Charlie toward the darkness, as his cloak left the orange glow. Jonah held tightly to Charlie’s hand, holding on as he stared into Charlie’s terrified eyes.  There was an even stronger jerk, followed by a clicking screech as Charlie was dragged further into the dark, with this last pull, the glove that covered Charlie’s hand started to slide free of the skin, the glove that Jonah was holding, the soft wool the only thing keeping Charlie from being dragged away. One more jerking pull, and Charlie, was gone, the little glove still in Jonah’s hand. Jonah screamed, for the first time in his adult life he actually screamed, at least he felt as though he did, his jaw dropped and his throat tensed, but he heard only silence, as he looked out into the night, as he looked to where his son had been moments before, as he looked out at the new horror that was the dark.

****