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THE DARK
By Bryan Hall
Copyright 2010 Bryan Hall
“You don’t care at all if there’s nothing after we die?” Bill asked with disbelief.
Robert shrugged. “Not worth thinking about.” He cracked open another beer, his tenth of the evening. His words were starting to slur somewhat now.
“I mean like it was before you were born. Nothingness. Thinking about that doesn’t bother you at all?”
“I don’t think about. It’s easier that way.”
“You’re a lucky fucker, then.”
“I think most people don’t think about it, man. Hell, you just started worrying about it so much since…” Robert’s voice trailed off.
“Since my Mom died,” Bill finished for him, nodding. “I know.”
It was true. One week after his mother died of cancer it had started. He’d been watching an old horror movie and started imagining himself as the teenager who was being murdered. Religion had always been hard for him to swallow; heaven and hell and reincarnation all seemed like wishful thinking.
It was far more likely that there was nothing. Pure darkness; no consciousness or awareness. Trying to wrap his mind around what that would be like, Bill had thrown himself into the grip of one hell of a panic attack.
“Maybe that’s why you don’t give a shit,” Bill said. “You’ve never lost anybody.”
Robert shook his head. “Nope. That's not it at all. I’m just more concerned with living my life than I am with dieing.”
“Afterlife or no?”
“Look: It’s fifty-fifty. It’ll be great if there is something. I hope there is, for that matter,” Robert said.
“And if there isn’t? If it’s just blackness…nothingness?” Bill queried.
Robert took a long pull of his beer and turned the question around in his mind for a moment before answering. “It won’t matter. I mean… if it’s nothing, we won’t know. Hell, it’s probably not that bad once you’re in it. Darkness, I mean. At least we don’t have to work and pay taxes.”
Bill rose from his seat, shaking his head. “I wish it was that easy for me. I gotta piss, then we’re gonna finish this conversation.” He made his way down the hallway and into the bathroom.
As he stood over the toilet Bill fought hard to push the thoughts of death from his mind. Talking about it was fine, but whenever he was alone he inevitably ended up trying to envision what it would be like to vanish into nothingness. He turned his attention to the Rolling Stone cover in the floor, reading the headlines to occupy his mind until he was finished.
He returned to the room to find Robert slumped over on the arm of the sofa, a thin ribbon of drool glistening in the corner of his mouth and his beer still in his hand.
Bill shook his head and chuckled. “So much for finishing the goddamn conversation.”
Grabbing another beer from the fridge, Bill switched off the overhead lights and sat down behind the computer in the corner of the living area of his small rental house.
He began to mindlessly surf through news sites, eyes flittering across the various bad news headlines and celebrity gossip stories before settling on a fluff piece about a beagle named Ringo who had woken up its owners in time for them to escape the fire that had engulfed their home.
“Ringo was his name-o,” Bill whispered.
Behind him, Robert started to snore softly.
Bill started scanning the headlines again when an instant messaging window popped up onto the computer screen, the dinging sound that accompanied it startling him.
hello
Was the only word in the window. No screen name in front of it, no title at the top, nothing. Just
hello
Bill stared at the word for a moment. There were only a few people who had his
screen name, and all of them opened their conversations with more than just a simple hello.
Onscreen three question marks appeared underneath the single word.
Curiosity claimed Bill as a casualty, and he typed: hi
Almost immediately, a response came.
how’s it going?
who is this? Bill typed.
how’s it going?
fine, I guess…who do you think I am?
been watching you awhile.
what?
i like you. you’re…interesting.
what?
who is this?
nobody
Bill sighed and closed the window. “Modern day prank calling,” he whispered as he took a swig from his beer.
The window appeared again on the screen along with a new message.
don’t do that again, bill
Bill’s heart fluttered at the sight of his name on the computer monitor. Whoever it was knew his name. His first thought was Tori. She’d spent the last couple of weeks
flirting with him in their advanced biology class, neither of them mustering enough to courage to ask the other out. Maybe she’d gotten his screen name from one of their mutual friends and was now setting out to woo him in cyberspace.
Bill smiled at the thought. He’d had enough alcohol tonight to take the simple flirting to the next realm and perhaps ask her on a date. He set the beer down and began to type a reply, doing his best to remain coy.
how do you know my name?
i know a lot
did you hack my PC?
no
you said you’ve been watching me.
yes
where?
everywhere
school?
everywhere
Everywhere? Something about that caused a disconcerting feeling to settle over Bill. He wrote: who are you?
nobody everybody I AM
“I am.”
Bill heard the last two words come from behind him, a barely audible whisper
creeping across the room at the exact same moment the words materialized onscreen. He looked quickly over his shoulder and checked the room. Other than him and Robert, it was empty.
He looked back to the computer, unease creeping through him. Another quick glance over his shoulder reaffirmed his safety. He was hearing things, thanks to the beer and the uneasy conversation he‘d just had with Robert.
He was no longer so certain it was Tori. She didn’t seem the type to spend her evenings behind a computer playing strange and slightly creepy games.
Nevertheless, Bill was still curious. It could be her; he didn’t know her all that well yet. And it was someone he knew, obviously. At any rate, whoever it was was managing to keep him entertained, if not a little uncomfortable.
“Alright. I’ll play along for a minute,” he said quietly.
you know me. He typed
yes
how?
i know all
how?
i am all. soon you’ll join me
Join me? Bill thought. It had to be Tori. Maybe she was drunk, having a laugh with her friends at his expense. The nape of his neck tingled as the unmistakable feeling that someone was watching him crept into his mind.
He cast a nervous glance over his shoulder and scanned the room again.
Satisfied that he and Robert were alone in the room, Bill wrote: join you where?
here
where?
in the dark
Bill frowned at the statement. The dark. Blackness. The thought of pure nothingness crept into his gut again, sending a chill through Bill‘s body. He shook off the oncoming panic. He wasn’t going to be unnerved by some jackass with too much time on their hands.
He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his beer, staring at the screen and wondering whether or not he should continue t
his or just give it up, turn off the computer, and go to bed.
ringo was his name-o.
Bill froze, can still pressed against his lips, beer growing warm in his mouth. He swallowed hard, nearly choking on the beer.
They had heard him. Somehow, they had heard him.
No, he told himself. They may have hacked his computer, seen what sites he had visited and made an offhanded reference about it. Coincidence, plain and simple.
But still…this wasn’t right.
He’d known it in the back of his mind from the moment the first word popped onto his computer monitor. But now, after indulging whoever was toying with him and his own curiosity, the fact was front and center in his mind. The back of his neck tingled with the growing sensation that someone was watching him.
This wasn’t right.
“Fucking hell,” he said to himself.
you know nothing of hell. Materialized in the chat window.
The breath caught in Bill’s throat as he sat staring at the words.
There was no question about it now. Whoever it was could hear him.
“Jesus Christ.” He whispered so quietly he could barley hear the words himself.
died screaming for his daddy appeared on screen immediately.
He hardly had time to read the words when the hairs just below his scalp tingled as he felt someone breathing lightly on his neck.
Leaping from his chair with a scream Bill whirled violently, swinging a fist behind him but connecting with nothing. There was no one in the room with him.
Not even Robert.
Bill looked around frantically. He was alone. But he still felt like he was being watched. He stood, rooted to the floor, for what seemed like an hour. Silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the faint chirping of crickets and frogs outside.
Finally, he began to make his way toward the bathroom, craning his neck to try and peer around the corner and down the hallway while staying as far away from it as possible. His heartbeat kicked a quick steady pace in his head.
“Robert?” His voice was strained, quivering with fear. “You taking a piss?”
Hopeful as he was, Bill wasn’t surprised that no response came.
A few hesitant steps and he was able to see down the hall and into the dark, empty bathroom beyond.
Behind him, the computer speakers crackled lightly with static. Bill froze. Through the hissing came what sounded like a voice, nearly inaudible beneath the white noise. Bill couldn’t make out what it was saying, or even if it was male or female, but it was definitely a voice.
Frozen in place, Bill stared at the speakers as the voice escaped from them. It was almost hypnotic, rhythmically rising and falling in tone in an eerie pattern. It sounded like it was singing to some unheard music.
No, Bill thought to himself. It wasn’t singing.
It was chanting.
As soon as Bill realized it, the static fell away and the voice became clearer and louder. It was male and female, both speaking at the same time in a language Bill couldn’t identify. Their tone was growing more intense by the minute, like a southern preacher gaining more and more momentum as he whipped his congregation into a frenzy.
Bill ran across the room and switched the speakers off so frantically that he knocked one off the desk. The house plunged back into silence as he stood over the computer, staring at the monitor. His mind raced, trying to figure out both what was happening and what to do about it.
More words appeared on the computer monitor, sending a fear coursing through Bill’s veins so powerful that his body began to tremble.
coming for you, bill. got your mommy and daddy got your buddy robert now it’s your turn.
Panic overcame him and he began to scream. “Who are you? What the fuck do you want from me? What did I do?” Tears began to stream from his face.
And then he heard the child. A young child‘s voice, vaguely feminine, slowly becoming louder.
The voice was coming from his bedroom, echoing through the house as it sang in a nursery rhyme rhythm. “R-I-N-G-O, and Ringo was his name-o!”
Staring down the dim hallway leading to the source of the voice, Bill began to slowly back up, glancing over his shoulder every few steps as he made his way toward the front door.
After a moment the child was joined by another voice, then another and another. Men and women, young and old, some that hardly sounded human with their low gravely voices; all joined together and formed a bloodcurdling choir so hellish it made his ears hurt.
The moment he was within reach, Bill grabbed the doorknob frantically, flinging the door open and whirling around to make his escape and--
There was nothing outside.
Nothing at all. The singing behind him stopped and silence reigned supreme yet again as Bill stood at his doorway staring out into what had once been his driveway.
His front porch was still there, extending eight or nine feet out from the door before reaching the point where the steps should be.
But the steps were gone. Along with everything else.
It was as if outer space had devoured all the stars and planets and was working on finishing off the Earth. Where the world had been was now only a void colder and blacker and emptier than he could have ever imagined anything could be.
And it was growing. The front porch was slowly joining the darkness, the void washing over it like some hellish liquid.
He slammed the door shut, tripping over his own feet and falling backwards into the living room, a horrendous flash of pain cutting through his brain as the back of his head connected with the edge of the coffee table .
Rolling to his stomach, Bill tried to rise and run but only made it to his knees before collapsing again. Nausea engulfed him and his vision narrowed as he felt the warm stream of blood ooze from his head and coat his neck.
Laughter erupted from somewhere in the house as he turned to look behind him, watching in horror as the entire front wall of his home was swallowed up by the blackness. It was approaching him quickly now, but he knew that even if he was able to stand it would be pointless to run.
Slowly, he rolled himself over to his back and stared up at his ceiling just in time to watch it disappear into the void. He felt a cold unlike any that nature could muster consume his legs.
As the black swept over him, Bill smiled with the realization that it really wasn’t so bad after all, once you were in it.