Disturbia
8 December 2010
Disturbia
By: Rihanna
'It's like the darkness in the light…'
Sam huddled up in the corner of her bright white cell. It was smooth and square, the corners were rounded, and there seemed to be no visible door. She shivered, her eyes wide and panicked. How had she gotten here? The last thing she remembered was walking home with Tucker, laughing at something or other he had said, then...nothing. Had she been kidnapped? Why else would she be put into a cell like this? A faint sizzling drew her attention and she turned to look around her. She wasn't alone in this prison. A swirling, writhing, tangible darkness was in the corner opposite hers, its presence seeming to repel the very light itself away. But it wasn't the fact that it was in the cell with her that frightened her, but the fact that it seemed to crawl towards her at times before withdrawing. The dark clothing she wore seeming to draw it in, and for once in her life, Sam Manson almost regretted being goth. Almost.
What seemed like hours later, nothing had changed, and Sam was feeling exhaustion creep up on her. Her form slumped and her eyes drooped as she tried to fend off her tiredness, unwilling to let her guard down around the black creature before her or the captors that might be watching her. Eventually though, she lost the battle and finally succumbed, being swept away into fitful unconsciousness.
Hunger. That was the first conscious thought the creature had. In this rounded bright cell, it felt pain everywhere. There were no dark corners to hide in, no shadows to rest in. With the constant onslaught of light, it would soon die as its body faded away. It felt a presence near it, and it longed to reach out and lay on the darkness it knew was there, but it was too weak to withstand the burning agony that overcame it whenever it tried to move. As another small portion of its semi-tangible body faded away, it finally resolved to do something about this hellish situation. No matter what it did, it would most likely die anyways, so what was the harm in facing a few more moments of pain? The darkness it felt was like an oasis, and it would reach it or die trying. Picking its way across the floor was one of the hardest things it had ever done, every inch it moved, every bit of floor it touched, burned with a white hot intensity it hadn't deemed imaginable until now. Sure, sunlight hurt, but eventually it faded away and the cratures of the night were given time to frolick and recover. But this? This unending artificial whiteness was death. But the closer it became to this oasis, the more it seemed to discover. This black thing was alive, at first it had been alarmed, hadn't alive things put it here in the first place? But pain overcame fear, and it continued on. This dark, alive thing didn't move like other things, it seemed to pulse much like the shadow, a constant up and down rhythm that gave it a peaceful aura. The dark wasnt true darkness, but in a place like this it was the best that could be found, and as it finally reached the alive thing, several things happened at once.
Sam was torn from the nightmarish dreams of kidnap and torture she had been having at the cool, smooth, not-quite-ther touch to her ankle. Invisioning a large man looming over her, ready to attack, made her eyes snap open and her mouth open in a scream. he scream she gave out soon turned to a shriek the moment she saw what had wakened her though, and she crawled as far away from the dark figure before her as possible. It seemed to retract and shrink in upon itself as she did, becoming flatter and denser as it did so. It had touched her. Touched her. Who knows what it could have done if she had stayed awake? It was dark, and scary, and unknown; the embodiment of evil in her mind. She should stay awake, try to find a way to kill it, do something to...her mind froze for a moment. 'What am I thinking?' Her whole live she strove to change people's ideas about how darkness was evil, and how they should shy away from the new and unknown. She was a goth for pete's sake, shouldn't she like this kind of thing? As she noticed a piece of it seemingly break off and turn to mist, she realized something. The sizzling, the writhing, the breaking...was it in pain? How could a shadow survive in the light like this? Her will resolved itself. She saved rabbits and frogs, risked her parents (and teachers) wrath at protests, spoke out about vegetarianism and animal rights, how could she let this poor creature die? It would be hypocrisy. Steeling herself, she tentatively reached for it, hoping it wouldn't attack. After a few moments, a small tendril seemed to take a slow, halting advance towards her. She frowned, getting a little closer, when it touched her, its cold, phantom presence almost made her draw back, but she refused to let her squeamish side get the best of her. A faint, 'Thank you...' sounded in the back of her mind, but she ignored it. Swallowing, she edged her hand closer, letting the creature slide up her arm. It wasn't exactly an uncomfortable feeling, it almost felt like sticking her arm in a pool. Unfortunately, where it decided to go caused a problem. It streaked up her arm and onto her chest, hiding under her shirt. She let out a small scream, smacking herself as it began a twitching descent down her abdomen. It flowed down her leg and she tried to hold still. It wasn't hurting her she realized, it was trying to find the darkest place it could, which was currently the inside of her combat boot. It stayed there unmoving, the writhing mass it had been was gone, replaced by this statuesque thing hiding in her boot. She let her leg stretch out as far from the rest of her as possible before curling up into a ball. Just because she let it touch her didn't mean she didn't have doubts about its danger.
The alive thing seemed to explode. Sound erupted from it in waved, and it seemed to fly across the cell in a hurried frenzy. It recoiled in fear before realizing something. This was it. It didn't have the energy or will power to make another trek. But right as it felt another piece of itself dissove and gave up any hope of survival, the dark, alive thing seemed to become closer. Excitement began to bubble as it noticed the distance closing, was the alive thing going to save it? Would it finally be given rest? Tentatively, it reached out a tentril, ignoring the pain as best it could. The dark things tentacle was not dark, but it held the promise of peace and rest. Without another thought, it latched onto the strange tentacle and raced up it, giving a brief thanks to the creature it was attached to as it did. The dark thing was pale all over it seemed, but the layer of fake dark it wore was comforting. At least, until it started pouding on the poor, tired, creature resting on it. What was wrong? Hadn't it offered itself as safety? Avoiding the pouding as best it could, the shadow creature felt the presence of true darkness up ahead. Ah, so the pale alive thing was trying to herd it to a place where it could rest? What an odd method of communication. Slipping into the dark cavern, the creature spread itself out, relaxing in the absense of light as only a creature of the shadows can. The alive thing had tentacles in here as well, was this how it stayed to large this long? This well of cool, pleasure? The small dark creature let out a sigh of irritation, couldn't it at least have shared?
This was also on my computer for forever, but it was only a few sentences long. Looking at it, I felt inspiration strike and decided to finish it. I have ideas as to where this could go, but don't plan on update anytime soon. I have finals to study for after all, hahahaha. Anyways, hope you'll like it enough to leave a review! :)