Shadow selves.
Who: The Lone Power and open.
What: A dark power stirs in all our hearts.
When: Twilight.
Where: Main street, by the park.
Rating: U for uncertain.
Status: Incomplete and open!
Darkness woke out of long slumber. Wispy shadow long left drifting began to coalesce, like oily smoke in a night alley, lit by a sickly, faltering bulb over a doorway. The shadows, finding one another, met, merged, grew, taking form. The darkness stirred, raised its head, shook itself, a half-mad wolf rising to heavy feet--stumbling for a moment over knees weakened by long hibernation--and looked around it to see what there was to kill. To consume.
In the mind of an otherwise normal man, the Master Darkness, Creator of Entropy actualized, coming out of a long dormancy. It tightened Its tendrils where they coiled around the man's thoughts, squeezing, squeezing, suffocating, leaving room only for Itself. So that It could control this avatar in which It had hidden Itself for so, so long, in a human's sense.
Of course, everyone, everything has a sliver of the Lone Power inside, casting Its shadow. That One was there in the beginning, and created what nothing can escape in this broken multiverse. It isn't only that everyone will die eventually, subject to the forces of entropy. It's also that everyone has in him that moment of doubt, that dark corner that wants the Lone One to triumph, if not in his own sphere, then in that of his enemy. Everyone.
Even heroes.
This particular hero--he thought his name was Adam, but he wasn't sure; memory lapses like this are not unusual in those who have suffered a major trauma--found himself one day in a town he did not know, a place he did not know, with something he thought he had conquered stirring inside him. And that Someone had demands to make, games to play. Confused and lost, the hero wandered the town, searching for a clue to help him understand.
What: A dark power stirs in all our hearts.
When: Twilight.
Where: Main street, by the park.
Rating: U for uncertain.
Status: Incomplete and open!
Darkness woke out of long slumber. Wispy shadow long left drifting began to coalesce, like oily smoke in a night alley, lit by a sickly, faltering bulb over a doorway. The shadows, finding one another, met, merged, grew, taking form. The darkness stirred, raised its head, shook itself, a half-mad wolf rising to heavy feet--stumbling for a moment over knees weakened by long hibernation--and looked around it to see what there was to kill. To consume.
In the mind of an otherwise normal man, the Master Darkness, Creator of Entropy actualized, coming out of a long dormancy. It tightened Its tendrils where they coiled around the man's thoughts, squeezing, squeezing, suffocating, leaving room only for Itself. So that It could control this avatar in which It had hidden Itself for so, so long, in a human's sense.
Of course, everyone, everything has a sliver of the Lone Power inside, casting Its shadow. That One was there in the beginning, and created what nothing can escape in this broken multiverse. It isn't only that everyone will die eventually, subject to the forces of entropy. It's also that everyone has in him that moment of doubt, that dark corner that wants the Lone One to triumph, if not in his own sphere, then in that of his enemy. Everyone.
Even heroes.
This particular hero--he thought his name was Adam, but he wasn't sure; memory lapses like this are not unusual in those who have suffered a major trauma--found himself one day in a town he did not know, a place he did not know, with something he thought he had conquered stirring inside him. And that Someone had demands to make, games to play. Confused and lost, the hero wandered the town, searching for a clue to help him understand.