What Not to Fear
Part One: Afraid of the Light
Prologue
"We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light." ― Plato
10 February 1962
There was a woman. A beautiful woman, with sad, vacant eyes and nervous fingers that whispered over the soft silk and lace of her nightdress. There was also a man. A beautiful man, with cold, focused eyes and long, delicate fingers that gripped the wand in his hand.
The whiteness of his fingers where they gripped too tight was the only sign of emotion, of anything other than indifference. She looks dead, he thought bemusedly, did I kill her? The man was unsure. This observation was true to life. Though the woman's heart continued to beat softly in her chest, her eyes were dead. Eyes that were once a soft blue were cold and lifeless.
"Sarin." The man said firmly, demanding her attention. "Sarin, look at me." But the woman did not turn. "I command you!"
Finally with a nod, the woman looked towards him. Her eyes were not focused, gaze floating around where the voice had come from. The man's jaw clenched, as the woman named Sarin continued this comatose ruse.
"Sarin." The man moved towards her in long strides. His hand went to her forehead and brushed back the dark hair there, hand resting on her head. The man went to kneel before where she was sitting by the window. "Sarin. Please." Her eyes fluttered dazedly around the man's face.
The man's hand drifted down to Sarin's arm, curling around with fingers digging into cold, pale skin, while his other hand mirrored this on the woman's other arm. He firmly pushed her back against the window. The woman meekly shivered at the feel of the cold glass, face turning away. She continued to stare into the air with a blank face.
"Sarin." The man all but screamed.
"Tom?" A tired answer came. The man almost gasped in relief.
"Sarin? Can you hear me? Are you okay?" He seemed desperate.
"Where are the babies, Tom?" Sarin whispered with her sad eyes widening tiredly. "What did you do, Tom?"
"What do you—? What?" The man, Tom, was confused, brow furrowing in a minute show of emotion.
"WHAT DID YOU DO?" Sarin suddenly screamed, voice piercing the otherwise silent night. Tom was startled, falling back. He arose from the ground with an angry expression, hand raised. His open hand caught Sarin's face, snapping her head to the side and into the closed window behind her with a thud.
Sarin slumped to the side, a low, possessed moan came from deep in her throat. Her hand travelled up and brushed her reddening cheek. She began to sob lowly, muttering something that Tom could not hear. He leaned in close to her.
"What are you saying, Sarin?" Tom asked, fearful for this woman as he had never been before.
With an anguished wail, Sarin continued, "Kill me. Tom. Please, kill me? Where have I gone?" Tom backed away from her, half crawling on the floor with his legs splayed in front of him. "What did you do to them? To me? You're so terrible. TERRIBLE! I hate you. I love you, so cruel. I HATE YOU. KILL ME!"
Tom stood abruptly, motioning forward with his wand. It rested against the top of Sarin's head, threatening to comply. "What? You want—?"
Her head suddenly snapped up, eyes alive as Tom had never seen them, even before this, before him. Sarin quickly took his hand in hers, guiding the wand to her throat. It dug into her as she tightened her hand on his.
"Yes. Do it! Do it. Under the bed, hiding. Just do it! Come out. Please, monster? Won't you do it?" Sarin's voice softened and her eyes began to leak tears. Tears that streamed down her face, down the clear pink mark that Tom had given her. "At least commit. You've stolen me away, so why should I stay? It doesn't seem prudent. No, no! Not prudent!"
A mad laugh tore itself from her throat. Her eyes were becoming crazed, her dull smile twisted and bitter. Tom looked into her eyes, saw empty, hopeless pleading. Her eyes widened slightly, her smile softened. "Yes." She whispered, "Goodnight moon." There was a green flash of light. Then there was nothing.