Abby's Darkness (A Short Story)

were the words: "Thomas Evans, Líder de Formación".

  "Please enter," said the smooth female voice of the building’s A.I. I picked at my elbow as the door slid open.

  "Well don't just stand there like a lost cat," grumbled Thomas from behind his oak desk. He was fiddling with what looked like a pencil, scribbling something on a sheet of paper, two antiquated items from a distant pass. Thomas’ pencil scratching along paper sounded like music from a long-lost civilisation. In a way, I suppose it was.

  I scrambled in and forced myself to steady my breath.

  "Yes, sir," I whispered, my arms stiff at my side as I fought the urge to pick my elbow.

  "I spoke with the director yesterday," he said, "about you..."

  His eyes met mine but I remained silent.

  Thomas continued, "He thinks you're not suited for this team... and I agree."

  A knot of despair mixed with disappointment gathered in my chest. I could almost feel my mother's warm tears fill my heart. At the same time, relief flowed through me. The demons had come after me in this place. Perhaps leaving would free me from their hold. Still I stood wordless as the silence stretched on, afraid of where my next words would lead me.

  "Aren't you going to say something?" grunted Thomas.

  "What would you have me say, sir?"

  "Your future is at stake here and there's nothing you want to say?"

  "It seems you've already made up your mind, sir," I said, disappointment quickly turning to irritation.

  "I didn't say that."

  "Then what are you saying?" I snapped.

  "I believe in second chances," said Thomas, smiling. It was a grotesque thing, his smile. Perfect white teeth on a ruggedly handsome face... Yet dark like my bats.

  "Second chances?" I said, conscious of my heart thudding as I tried to slow my shallow breathing.

  "I told the director about some interference at your fear training. Since you were doing well before... I convinced him to let you have another go." Thomas's smile widened and I shuddered inwardly.

  "Fear training again," I said.

  "Yes," said Thomas, "so follow me." He rose and before I could squeak a reply, he was standing at the open door beckoning me to follow.

  I scurried to keep up with his long strides. Soon, we reached the familiar white-walled corridor. I swallowed the terror that threatened to paralyse me and stepped through the open door.

  "Straps on," muttered the assistant, buckling my hands in place. It was the same blond technician from my previous visit.

  I tried to distract myself from the twists in my stomach. "What's your name?" I asked him.

  He avoided my gaze and continued as if I hadn't spoken. For a moment I wondered if he was even human. His movements were mechanical and his face was too perfect. No smile crinkles at the corners of his eyes, no blemishes, no shadows. He seemed almost plastic. Android?

  "Ready, sir," said the technician, straightening up. Thomas walked over with a helmet in hand. This one was larger than the last, silver on the outside with what looked like velvet lining.

  "Deep breaths, girlie," said Thomas. I grimaced as the black enclosure covered my head.

  Sunshine. Golden, warming my core. The sky is larger than my sight can comprehend. To my left, wheat fields stretch to the edge of the earth. To my right, corn.

  I am on a dusty road facing an eternal journey. Here to do something but I can't remember what. The sun's warmth soothes all thoughts from my mind and I let it fill my soul. I close my eyes and inhale the sweet corn scent blowing over me. I am alone yet not.

  The sun's intensity grows and I squeeze my eyes shut tighter. My eyelids burn as the brightness seeks to filter through them. My inner calm flees at the sound of raging winds suddenly swirling around me.

  Then everything goes black.

  I gasp with my eyes still closed. Afraid to open them to see the darkness and its inhabiting creatures.

  The wind stops dead and silence takes its place. My thumping heart throbs in my chest but I cannot hear it through the thickened air. Breathing is suddenly a desperate struggle and I clench my fists.

  "Open your eyes," says a voice. My voice, I think.

  Slowly, I force my eyes open. The sun is long gone as if it were only an illusion. I am standing in the middle of a cornfield ready for harvest, my breath foggy in the now-chilly air. In the distance, screeching breaks the silence.

  I start running; my feet are soundless as I stumble through the vegetation. Leaves press against my skin, as if attempting to aid in my capture. The screeching gets closer but I hear another sound: the flapping of a winged army, closing in on its target.

  I want to scream but I need all my energy to run. My legs are getting heavy as muscles tighten and stretch.

  For the first time since entering this world, I fear that it will claim me. The darkness ahead of me deepens like a shadow crossing the night. I look up and tremble.

  Bats fill my view, spreading against the blackened sky. Despite the absence of moonlight or starlight, I can make out the shape of each winged demon. Their darkness is deeper than the depths of space. They stand against the sky like portals into another world. Screeching for me to enter.

  I can run no farther as the bats merge into one being. My screams seem to fill this new creature with frenzied power as it looks down at me. Into me. Its wings beat faster than I can see, stirring the night air into a new storm.

  My fear has a form and I am helpless before it. My body thrums with terror while I stand frozen. My lungs tighten as the bat descends, like an albatross after its prey.

  Before I can budge, it throws me flat on my back. With my last breath, I scream Laars’ name before the creature's weight presses me into the earth, settling on my chest. Suffocating me with an explosion of pain and horror.

  The creature's eyes are pits of hatred burning into me. Its hot breath fills my face with the stench of burning flesh.

  Despair closes in as darkness surrounds the bat. Soon I can see nothing but its hideous visage, delighting in my helplessness.

  "Laars is no more." I hear its voice in my head, a rumbling ancient voice.

  "Over here!" another voice interrupts, "come get me!"

  The demon starts and looks away. Its weight shifts and I am able to take a gasping breath. It looks back at me then to its left. For a moment, it seems confused.

  The voice is that of a child. "Come get me, you bully," shouts the child again.

  The bat turns to me and presses me even harder into the ground. "You're still mine," it says, before flying off towards the voice.

  I lay in the darkness wheezing. It takes all my energy to roll to my side and push to my hands and knees. I look around, desperate for escape. The thought of my demon killing a child stands between me and a reckless dash through the fields.

  "Get up, Abby."

  A shadow appears. Tall and lean but ebbing with power. Laars.

  "Help me," I groan.

  "I can't get in," he says. "You have to do this on your own."

  "Please..." I croak, "help me. I can't-"

  A shriek of agony interrupts me. Laars' shadow doubles over as if in pain.

  "You have to save the child," Laars gasps. "It's me."

  I have questions. But Laars writhes as another scream echoes over the land.

  "The demon is yours," Laars wheezes.

  "Mine?"

  "Kill it."

  Laars' shadow curls into a ball before vanishing.

  The screaming gets louder as I rise and lumber through the corn. With each step I grow stronger and soon I am running.

  The chill gives way to a sudden intense heat and I reach a clearing.

  A fire burns in the middle of the clearing, giving off no light. Its flames are black and filthy like the monster standing with its back to me.  At first I can't see anyone and the wails seem to come from the bat itself. The screaming stops suddenly and I tremble. I'm too late.

  "Abby,
" it growls. "You're here."

  "Where's the child?" I shout, shaking with forced bravado. My terror magnifies when the bat turns around and I see a small figure dangling from its mouth. Blood drips from the bat's mouth, matting and darkening its fur.

  "Laars," I weep. The demon drops him and I wince at the thud his limp body makes on the dark earth.

  "Your turn," says the bat, growing even larger to match my horror and agony.

  As I stare into the depths of my own demon's hatred and evil, a roar escapes me. The sight of the child's motionless body pushes past my fear. Terror becomes rage.

  "No, demon," I sneer. "Your turn."

  I take a step forward and uncertainty crosses its face. For a moment, the bat seems to shrink.  As I take another step, the child moans softly. I take my eyes off the demon briefly and in the next instant, claws are tearing at my chest as it pushes me to the ground again.

  All thoughts of escape flee my mind as the creature's weight squeezes the breath out of my lungs. "Kill it," Laars had said.

  With the last ounce of my remaining strength, I grab hold of the bat's legs and squeeze. Its laughter echoes cruel and hateful.

  "Do you think you can hurt me?" the bat-demon says, bending over me, its face inches from mine, its breath thick with blood and death.

  Without a word, I reach up and claw at its eyes, drawing blood. A screech escapes it, strengthening my will. With my nails pressed into the demon's eyes, I push it off and inhale as the weight is lifted. It twists from side to side in an attempt to shake me off. I grip harder, feeling all my strength flow through my arms and into my fingers.

  I smile for the first time in months.

  The thrashing bat loosens my grip momentarily and I wrap my arms