Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Far down within the dim West
Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best
Have gone to their eternal rest.
-Edgar Allan Poe "City in the Sea"
It was a place of night. A cave of dark shadows, broken dreams and old blood along with new. It should have been a fearful place, but its denizens were in no position to care about ambiance. It was a black place, and it was cold, but most of all, It was safe.
The ink-black darkness seemed to swallow light whole, coating the un-place with nothing. But no creature, animal or artificial stirred, except one.
And that was faint.
In the dark world, there was a solitary, gleaming light. A shining red, it illuminated the smallest of patches, showing the dirt and grime and broken glass. It seemed to emerge from a boy, solitary and alone among the shadows, trickling in a thin stream from a jagged hole and over a shirt as black as the walls.
A drop shone, clinging to life for the briefest moment, died, and was replaced by another. The boy watched it in detached fascination, seeing only the blurry glitter and feeling no pain. The crimson light formed a dark puddle at his side, pooling in shadow. It stained the black shirt dark, where the dirt hadn't already accomplished the same task.
He watched.
Drip, shine, die. Be replaced. Drip, shine, die.
It seemed so familiar, somehow."I am so tired of this," said one jumpsuit-clad man to another as they walked across a wasteland, "that I'm just about ready to retire." The short, blond man by his side snorted with laughter.
"Retire to what?" he shook his head, "you've lived in zone one all your life! You don't have the money, and you like your job. Besides, what else could you do? Become a garbage picker? A bum? Eric, you have more pride than that!"
Eric, a gentle man built like a cement truck, looked forlorn. "I was only seeing what you thought, James. Besides, I like being a rescue worker. It makes me feel- like- oh, I can't find the word..."
"Heroic?" offered the blond man with a smile. "I always thought so too."The black pool was spreading, staining the floor and debris. The boy paid no attention. His rapture for the glittering redness had faded, and the feeling in his arms and legs was returning. Trying valiantly to ignore it, the boy set all his mind to concentrating on the shining light. The new pain in his left arm was distracting and it was only a matter of time before feeling reached his chest, but he fought against it with all his will. It was going to hurt.
The pain in his arm was a dull ache, growing steadily. Still concentrating on numbing himself, the boy clasped his right arm around his left and held it still. Drawing his knees up as far as they would go, he whimpered as the pain got worse.
The numbness was creeping away, but he could still watch the light.Eric approached the smaller man, who was standing still and staring at nothing. "James?" he hazarded, "James, earth to James-"
"Shut up!" he called tersely, "I thought I heard something!" Cupping a hand around his ear, James listened carefully. A faint whine, like a dog in pain was carried on the wind. Pointing to the left, he ran off. "Over there!" he yelled, gesturing. Eric trailed behind, amazed at his friend's intuition.
James paused, listening again. The noise was closer. He walked slowly, staring at the ground, then-
"There!" he called, spotting a hole in the debris. "There's somebody in there! Give me a hand, Eric!"
Grunting and groaning, they managed to lever off the metal slab covering the small opening.
They stared for a moment.
"Dammit..."The boy watched the glittering crimson light drip and fall, never ceasing and never slowing. The numbness, receding from his arms and legs, left white-hot needles in its wake. It seemed that the only part left numb was the crimson pool. Concentrating on it, it kept the boy from screaming with the pain in his arm.
Drip.Glitter.
Die.
The crimson light began to expand, slowly at first, glowing white at the edges. It spread and spread, slowly, then the darkness disappeared all at once. The boy screamed silently at the searing whiteness, seeing only brilliant red. He vaguely heard someone speak above, and wondered if he was dead.
The red was no longer beautiful. He felt that was wrong, somehow.
He sensed rather than heard two people drop down beside him. "James..." said one, "he's alive?"
"Looks like it.""Lucky kid. He- ...my god..."
"What?"
"He's lying in a pool of-"
"Eric! call the medics! I don't care how you do it, just get them here NOW!"
One presence left. The boy was thankful for that and wished the other would go. The light was burning, scaldingly bright. A low whine escaped him.
"Hey!" cried the second presence, "you're conscious?!" The boy wished he wasn't. The pain was getting worse.
"Um... okay. Try to keep them conscious... That's what they told us..." the presence muttered, kneeling close to the boy. "So... my name's James. What's your name?"
The boy shivered and shook his head."Don't know?"
He shook his head.
"Can't talk?"
The boy hesitated, then nodded.
"Okay, I'll talk, then. You fell from somewhere very high up, if you're in this sector. At least twenty floors, probably far more. Don't know how you survived this far." The presence named James paused, regarding the boy, who was looking at him strangely.
"The ziggurat, remember? The robots and the explosions? The-" This seemed to jar loose a memory. The boy's eyes widened, and he spoke.
"Rock."James paused, mid-sentence. "What?"
"M-my name is... Rock."
Along with Rock's remembrance of his name came a rush of knowledge, and the loss of the last bits of numbness. He doubled up, gasping.
James panicked. "What's wrong? What's wrong!?" Rock grimaced.
"...Hurts..."
Suddenly, all the pain vanished. He turned his head to James and smiled.
"Isn't the Red beautiful?"
And the darkness swallowed him up.