A Darkness Within

Flash fiction

Anthony Rice
The Lark Publication
2 min readMar 20, 2024

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La Belle au Bois Dormant by Gustave Doré. Wikimedia Commons: Public Domain

I can see you there, cowering in the dark. Steeped in the stench of death, your own and that of so many others. Sorry? Too late for that. You remember me now don’t you, I can see it in your eyes. You yet know little of pain or regret, but I am here to show you. You tremble at my touch, is that fear? Ha! You have nothing to fear from me, you have only yourself to be afraid of. Come to me.

Engulfed in smothering darkness. Self-awareness slowly creeps into focus as my fugue lifts. Stunning clarity. I gasp. How could I not have seen myself before? Ha! That is what I do - shift perspective, cloak empathy in shadows, taint mercy with indifference, and corrupt kindness into suspicion. I blur love into apathy. You are easy to blind because you want to be. It made the world easier for you. We have worked together before, you and I. You have been mine for a long time. Behold!

I remembered. Screams tore from my very being as the full horror ripped my soul apart. Exquisite agony, writhing and coiling, filled me. Reeking vitriol tainted all I had held dear and I knew the crushing weight of all-consuming, total despair.

Now you understand.

Time passes as I float in the darkness. Broken. Left alone to face only myself and the loathing of what I had become. Minion.

It is time go. You have work to do. Close your eyes and come with me. Just a little bit further. I’ll be there with you, whispering when I need to. I know you will be back with me, you can’t help yourself. Open your eyes.

For just a moment, I hesitate. Resist. Across the vastness a faint tendril licks out towards me. I feel it, an ethereal wisp of something brighter. I desperately reach for it but just as I was almost able to grasp it, a darkness spits out and snaps the tendril. Had it reached me? No…. but wait, I feel something, I look and find a tiny light within. Mesmerised, I cup it in my hands, gaze into it and see its brightness grow ever so slightly. I hold it tightly to my breast for I know what it is.

Hope.

I open my eyes.

“We have a girl! a beautiful baby girl!”

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Anthony Rice
The Lark Publication

Insect ecologist (PhD), carbon farmer, integrated pest management (IPM) consultant and edumacator. Cracking myself up.