Chapter I: The Nightmare Begins
AN:
Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!
Finally done with my first year of uni! Last essays handed in, last exams suffered through, fuck yeah! I know why students get the whole lazy and unenergetic reputation now. Learning things is EXHAUSTING. I think I did okay though. Good enough to get into my second year, anyway and that's all I need. How are the rest of you doing? Finals and exams are happening now for a lot of people and all.
This one is based on The Darkness. It's a video game duology based on a comic series. This chapter is taken from the intro monologue in the second video game. It's probably one of my favourite monologues ever. The rest of the game I can take or leave, but dang that monologue is Good. Anyways, The Darkness is one of two weird pseudo-mythological forces of creation present at 'the beginning'. Think Demonic Possession with Shadow-based Superpowers. I know it's a bit short, but the rest isn't done and I wanted to have this up today. So, the rest will be up in a later chapter when I finish it. Current plan is to spend the rest of this month working on the pilot chapters for the new stuff, then start writing the original four stories again next month. That's not set in stone or anything, but it's my current working plan. Might even be able to get the new Inklewriter Airplane Job up too. I'll try keep y'all apprised.
The whole second person thing was an experiment. Half whim, half the fact I just reread The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Sam Coleridge and thought the whole 'held by a glittering eye' thing sounded cool. Honestly, I'm not 100% happy with how it turned out, but hey. Let me know what you think. Either way, the rest of the story is gonna be in my usual 1st person stream-of-consciousness style.
Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.
A man stumbles out of the black towards you. He's tall, wiry; the sort of guy who'd have to concentrate to avoid knocking shit over. His arms are pulled in, tight against his sides and his head is bent as he murmurs vaguely to the floor. A single tattered nametag pinned loosely to his equally tattered suit reads 'Johnny Powell'.
He takes another couple steps forward and his head shoots up. His eyes, wild and manic, almost... glittering, meet yours. "Okay, you know how this story starts."
You really don't.
You try to look away, keep walking, but you can't. You can't do anything else but listen to this strange man as he rambles on. "In the beginning, there wasn't shit. Literally, nothing but void and Darkness. And that's how the Darkness liked it!"
You can hear the capitals, in the almost reverent way he says it. Darkness. A short, simple name hiding complexity beneath.
Like Prince.
"It wasn't until God decreed," The man throws up both hands, a magician revealing his grand finale. "'Turn on the Lights!' that things got nasty."
He snorts. "Started off small, a planet here, a... a sun there, b-but next thing you know there were humans and cows an-and stuff running all over the place." He emphasises each noun with a quick gesture, long and spider-like arms flicking out. "Needless to say, the Darkness was pissed."
He waves another hand and images of people appear in your head, flickering through your mind faster and faster until you can barely make one out from the next. "From then till now, the Darkness has been tearing its way through the world, inhabiting one human host after another, each thinking that they were its master."
He scoffs, derision almost dripping from his words. "But you can't own the Darkness. The Darkness owns you."
He waves a hand and the array of images disappears, replaced by a single face. It's a man, tallish, strawberry blond hair and blue eyes. (AN: Interesting thing I found out lately, hair colour can be gendered. Blonde is for female, blond is for male. Brunette for female, brunet for male. Frickin' English, amirite?)
"Fast forward to one William Price. You know his type, no family, no hope... needless to say, he ended up about what you'd expect, busting heads for the Franchetti crime family." The image changes to the same man holding a gun and glaring off into the middle distance. "Life as a whole was pretty dark for Will..."
Another quick flicker of images flashes through your mind, of Will working his way through dozens of people using, well, whatever he could get his hands on. Guns, pipes, baseball bats, even a fish hook. That one was disturbing. "But when his 21st birthday came along... things got a whooole lot darker." He waves a hand and the previous death and destruction, while impressive, was immediately overcast. Every image is ripping and rending and tearing and blood. Lots, and lots, of blood. "He got power and he used it, boy, oh boy, oh shit did he use it."
Johnny waves a hand and the images disappear. "N-n-now then. You might think that inheriting superpowers might be p-pretty cool for Will, y'know, being in the business of killing people an' all, right?" He eyes you for a second, waiting for you to respond. Since you can't move a muscle, he doesn't get what he's looking for. After a moment, he shakes his head and starts talking again. "If it weren't for the demon living inside of him, you'd be right."
"See, the Darkness didn't just make Will stronger, it made him a God..." He waves a hand and the streetlight above you flickers. "But only when the lights were out."
"So, y'know, he started killing people at night." He shrugs. "What? Will was a practical guy and loyal to his boss. He did pretty good, too. Got real inventive." His hands jump and jitter around, but he manages to pull them in, running one of the back of his neck. "Anyway, next thing you know, the Mob g-gets intimidated, turns on Will, marks him for death, just like that. It was the New York City Mob versus Will." He points off into the night. "And the Darkness!"
His shoulders slump and his face takes on a faint smile. "But as Dark as things were for Will, there was one light in his life. And her name was Joyce."
A new image appears in your head, a young girl, maybe 18 or 19. She's pretty. Blonde hair, green eyes, a kind smile. Will was a lucky man. "Now these kids, they went way back. I don't think anybody would disagree that they were meant for each other." He sighs, his voice silent for a minute or two. He takes a deep breath and looks back up at you. "See, the mob was still after Will, and they thought the quickest way to get to him would be to take away, y'know, his only reason for living."
He scoffs and his head twitches. "K-killing Joyce was just about the d-dumbest thing the mob could've tried to do. Will ripped the whole lot of 'em apart in an afternoon, a fucking afternoon!" He shakes his head. "I still got no idea how he did it."
He sighs and shakes his head. "Whatever. When he'd finished with them, he took Joyce with him and just left. Moved away from the city, out to this piece of shit nowhere-town called Arcadia Bay." He waves a hand and more images appear. It's a typical small coastal town. Roadside diner, truckers, bits of suburbia scattered all over the place. "He and Joyce get married, pop out a sprog, try to forget the whole thing. Live happily ever after..."
His hands shake and flail around again. The jitters move up his arms into his head and shoulders. "As for the Darkness, Will's kept it locked away for years, y'know, but... it doesn't matter how hard he tries. No-one can hold back the night. Not forever."