Here’s part 2 to my impromptu short horror story.
Read part 1 at:
http://blog.eastfist.com/2013/06/18/darksilenteyehorrorstorypart1/
By Chongchen Saelee
I took one careful step down, hoping to descend the staircase safely, but then…
Shatter! My weight broke through the darkness and the floor shattered into a web of glass shards exploding into rainbow static and hash patterns. I seemed to have been tumbling for eternity. The horrid magenta and blue lines sting in the back of my eyes.
And slowly, my body was torn apart. Splotches of color, or pigment, or physical matter, or was it an abstraction? It didn’t hurt, but it seemed like torture and I was in total horror. Every piece of me flew into the ether. And I was becoming only a sketch of myself. And eventually, I could feel nothing, but then everything.
I watched the darkness from a million views, a million eyes. I had become a million particles.
Over there, this strange darkness reformed a red version of myself. It only vaguely resembled my former whole self. And over there, there was a blue version of myself. And another, a magenta copy, and another, a yellow copy. Each copy had it’s own variation of digital noise. I could see from every one of their minds because they were all me.
I was now fast. I was light. I was electricity. I was the universe. Was I a god?
My physical world had deteriorated too fast and I still wasn’t ready to accept it. I figured I hadn’t fallen completely down the stairs. Or did I? Was I unconscious? Am I in a coma? Hell, if I’m bleeding from my head, I could be dying. Gasp! Or worse… dead at the bottom of the stairs. What’s going on here? Could I really explain what was happening to me?
I started feeling around, in a panic, for more familiar objects. There must be picture frames. Surely. There must be the shoe rack. The coat hanger by the front door. Where’s the couch?! Where’s the coffee table?!!
It felt as though my hands were passing through static electricity, but it was warm, humid, and sticky. Yeah, right, as if I had hands. The darkness was me. I was the darkness. I had become pure energy.
I pondered this idea. It was strange. I was trapped in my own void. Was it my mind? Was it some sorceror’s work? I had to come to accept it. So I tried to manifest myself. There were all those colorful copies of my scrambly selves bouncing around like electrons and television static. I willed them back into me. I became myself once more. But I wasn’t exactly the same entity anymore.
The picture was shaky. But it was coming back. Patches of vision, much like a quilt, reappeared. I could see the front door to the house. I could see the television. I could see half of the coffee table. All things certain, only temporarily in vision, was flickering. It seemed like it was only a damaged memory.
I willed a grid. At least, what I could remember. I repainted my world. It was the best I could do. I went to work on my masterpiece.
Eventually, I finished my painting. It resembled my former life. Was there even a concept of passage of time? How long has it been? Was it hours, days, years? Or more impressive, a split second? I couldn’t will time. Could I? It didn’t matter.
I glided over to the couch and splayed myself on it. I was going to relax. Although this fabricated world was best I could manifest, I might as well not give up complete hope. Let’s see what’s on television.
Oh, first I need to manifest a remote controller. Waitaminnit. I can just will the television on.
Bing! It’s on. Wow. This might come in handy.
On the rainbow static-ridden television screen, I could only make out myself. It was ME! There I was! There I am in my original glory! What was I doing staring back at myself?
I screamed to myself. But he didn’t seem to hear me. He sat there, on the other side of reality, staring right back at me. My other self was bored. As he lost interest, my reality began to vibrate violently. How could a world of nothingness go even more dim? Eventually, my other self lost complete interest, and my world shrank to the size of a square of blinking red pixels. So much for manifestation.
Hey, look! He’s getting up from the couch! He’s approaching me! He must be able to see me! He’s coming in closer to examine!
NO!
Wait! Wait! He’s extending his arm… his finger… he’s going to turn the television off! Hey! Wait!
As my other self pressed in the button to power off the television, it felt like a slow agonizing painless death. I could feel all the electrons surging through me, the light, the energy, the power waning, it was all slowly leaving me what felt like an eternity. I watched him lift his finger off the button shot at 100,000 frames per second played back at 30 frames per second. It was a cruel joke.
And when he finally lifted his finger off the button, the very last frame…
Fin.
Tags: challenge, horror, impromptu, part, short, story, the dark silent eye, two