'The Dark' formerly titled 'Stalk the Dark', is an eerie short story. The titled changed soon after completion, once the realization dawned on me that it was absurd.
This short story portrays a conversation between a shady, murderous figure and his helpless captive. Can she escape this horrifying man? Is she doomed to fall prey to the shadows, like the other deceased victims?
“Afraid of the dark?” Mockery tinged the woman’s tone. In turn, anger flared through every nerve ending in her captor’s body – such unjust aloofness in that putrid voice! The fiery sensation razed his insides; crimson coated his vision, overwhelming the gloom. A guttural snarl resonated through his broad, defined chest. The stale air was deathly silent for the next few agonizingly slow moments.
“Within the shadows, dire secrets lurk; waiting to assault the sanity of an innocent mind, concealing the monsters of the night.” He made no attempt to keep the fury from dripping into his intense voice. His gnarled hands clenched at his sides, nails penetrating the calloused skin. Bitter air swirled around his body, so different from the flames of passion crawling through his core.
“Is that a yes? I had come to the conclusion that you feared nothing.” Her proud voice now mingled with sarcasm, a breathy laugh escaped her parched lips. He twitched, cocking his head to the side. He stalked towards the direction of her voice, anger radiating off him in waves. Glaring down through the darkness, his eyes adjusted to see the dark outline of her figure. A maniacal grin spread across his shadowed face.
“No, you misunderstand me. The darkness is my ally.” He dropped into a crouch, grazing the rough pads of his grimy fingers across her face, receiving an irritated hiss in response. He tensed with anticipation. “I am the most deadly of all the abominations to stalk the night.” A muffled gasp broke the silence, a minute blade now protruded from his captive’s abdomen.
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