Darkness was like a familiar friend that was always there. But there was something about the
darkness here that seemed far too....foreboding. But, then again, the whole city itself wasn't very
friendly either.
I'd been wandering for a long time before I finally found friends I could trust. Friends who
accepted me, even though they didn't know anything about me. They didn't even know my true
name. But they accepted me nonetheless.
But there was always the feeling that they didn't trust me. Maybe I was being paranoid. But when
they looked at me, it was almost as if they were trying to judge me. At times I felt that they were
talking behind my back.
But there was only one person I could truly trust. Just one person that I could turn to when I was
feeling alone, distraught. And that's what brought me here.
They called this "The Midnight Kingdom". They say that, at night, the city itself comes alive. I
wouldn't have believed it myself, if I didn't see it for myself. The shadows were different here.
They were like giant talons, reaching out, swiping at you. The buildings, gothic with their
masonry, their rooftops littered with gargoyles as though they were going out of style, seemed
like an army of giants on the march. Or larger than life tyrants, the people their unwilling slaves.
The night sky sparkled with the shimmering of a billion stars. But not a bit of light reached the
streets below, I noted. It was darkness personified. The streets were cracked, the pavements
warped. It was like looking at the skin of an elderly person at the microscopic level. Trees were
sparsely planted at certain areas; a vain attempt to make the city seem more...friendly, I guess.
The trees, however, didn't seem that friendly either. Rather they looked twisted, dead. It was mile
after mile of decrepit wood and sullen walkways.
People were spaced out over this long walk of death; the degenerates and throw-away's that the
city elite would soon forget. It was like looking at a microcosm of the rest of the world. The rich
were perched high above them all in some sort of dream state, resting comfortably, while the rest
were left to deal with the reality they created.
I noticed one person huddled with another. His beard was mangy, red with grey speckles. His
clothes were layered upon him, covered in filth; his only means of warmth. He swayed back and
forth as he cuddled what looked like another human being. This one was smaller, younger. The
hair was long, red like his beard. I couldn't really tell if it was a girl or a boy, but it was definitely
human, and definitely a young child. The man hummed what seemed like a lullaby, gently, into
its ear. I moved in closer, trying to make out what it was. Both their skin was pale. But there was
no movement of breath coming from the other, younger one. I could tell death had taken its
breath away a while ago. I felt pity, and wished to weep. But I knew that, no matter where it was,
it had to be better than this place ever could be. I continued on.
I passed an alleyway. I passed many alleyways, in fact. Each one with a life of their own. Each
one with stories to tell, and souls that haunted them. The spirits of the innocent AND the guilty
cried from their empty shadows, like poor villagers that were dragged into the den of lions. I
could not actually hear their cries, but the shadows throbbed with their laments. But this alley
was different. It cried differently. It was the cry of innocence lost. But that is not why they wept. I
passed closer, and caught a faint whiff of roses. The shadows did not pulse like the others. I
could almost hear what the shadows were crying. They were not crying for the loss of their lives,
but seemed to sob for the loss of souls around them. One soul in particular. I could almost sense
that, whatever stole the spirit of hope from this city, it spawned here. I wanted to visit the alley,
take in its pain, but I felt a sharp gaze upon me. Like a demon from Hell was watching me. It was
a cold gaze, and I could feel it all over me. So, not wishing to invoke its wrath, I lifted myself
away, towards the sky.
It was a nice bit of respite, up in the sky. It allowed me to gather my thoughts, and to escape the
pain that languished like a rotting corpse on the ground. But up in that sky I could hear, like a
choir, all the screams, all the wails of sirens, all the gunshots. I could smell the faint stench, taste
the staleness, of all the sins that lingered too long. Another baby was orphaned, another wife
abandoned, another spirit wandering itself into the grave. They bore at me, surrounded me,
crushed me. There was no sanctuary on the ground nor the sky. I would have screamed, if only I
could have found the voice to do so. But it was so hard to breath. So hard. Like a vise....
In the distance I could see what looked like a giant pool of darkness. It sat, alone, perched high
on a hill, overlooking the kingdom of lost shadows. It was the castle, the manor in which all this
pain seemed to seep. The blackness there did not lash out, but rather acted as a black hole, and
motioned it all into itself. In a way, it resembled a mouth, swallowing whole all the hurt, all the
neglect, that the city could not bear. A parasite, or a creature just trying to relieve some of the
weight that the city could no longer bear, I could not tell. Nor did it want to. For, even though, at
its center, was a stately home of regal bearing that said "welcome" I felt great unease just
glancing at it. Like it was pulling me in and pushing me away at the same time. I couldn't
understand it, but I had to laugh slightly at the ludicrosity of the whole thing; the brightest point
in the whole blasted kingdom was also its darkest focal point. This city indeed was one of hypocracy.
I heard something flutter below, like wings. I snapped my gaze below, and just barely caught a
glimpse of yellow and red; exactly what I was looking for.......
He looked so powerful here, yet so sad. He's the only one that could understand my pain. He's the
only one that could into my eyes and not scream. And, looking around here, I can see why. He's
braved the deepest pits of Hell, so why should he be afraid to look into my eyes.
He was perched atop the head of a gargoyle, his body molding itself with the shape of the
creature of stone, almost becoming one with it. He held his cape close to him, hiding himself in
its warmth. The wind wisped through his hair, and I wished I could be that wind, just to run my
fingers through his hair. He gazed out, and I tried to see what he was looking at. I quickly
realized that he wasn't looking at anything at all; just the night itself.
I marveled at how he just stayed in one place for so long, motionless. His mask covered his eyes,
hid much of his face. But I could see his pain weigh upon him like chains, and I sympathized
with him. We were both spirits wandering this earth, looking for our place. What I admired most
was how he was still so much closer to finding his place than I would ever be.
I wanted to come in closer, to sit beside him, have him hold me in his arms, if just for a moment.
The song that played through the night as bursting my ears, and I wanted his arms to hide me
from the pain that was sung, to protect me as he promised that he would. But I dared not. I sat in
the sky, as he was crouched firm to his place, and I just gazed at him, letting his silhouette be my
comfort.
A sharp wind blew through me, through us both, and we shivered in unison. As hot as it was in
the day, the city was so greedy that it would not let any warmth come during the night. It was
indeed a greedy monster.
I don't know how long we both just remained there. It seemed like eternity, but it could have just
been for a moment. I only wished it could have been forever. But, like lightning, he moved,
leaping from his place into the abyss below. My soul sank, and swore he was leaping to his
death. I gave chase, the wind streaking past me as I shot down to where he last was. But as I got
down, I could see a line shoot up, and him swinging between a pair of buildings. I marveled
silently at how he danced so well with the nothingness around him. His muscles, his whole body,
moved as fluidly as the wind did as he sailed through the night air, a thin wire his only tether
keeping him from plunging to his death. My heart skipped a beat.
He landed on a building, and galloped across its top. I followed close, my breath held tight as he
vaulted from perch to perch as though he was born to do so. He was poetry in motion as his cape
billowed and flowed with every twist and turn he made.
He reached the edge of the final building in the row, nothing there afterwards. He vaulted, his
hand grasping hard to the edge, lunging his legs up straight into the air. He paused there, in hand
stand position, right there at the tip of the building's edge, not even an inch from the open air. It
was like the moment had been frozen, and I stopped there, just staring at him. I had been floating
right behind him the whole time, mirroring him as best as I could. It was as though we were
dancing, the choir of hurt acting as the beat for which we waltzed to. But there he was now, his
back towards the night air behind him, cape flying like a flag in the wind. And, for a second, I
could almost swear he was looking back at me. Neither smiling, neither frowning. Just....looking.
And like that, he fell back over the edge of the building. I looked down.....
But nothing was there. He was gone. Vanished into nothingness.
So much I wanted to say, so much I wish he knew. But now I was left with nothing but the choir.
So, with the sun starting to break over the horizon, I left the Midnight Kingdom.
************************************************************************
The Chosen One has spoken. Heed and obey.
