The Night

 

It was one of those dark and eerie November nights; rainwater pierced through the heavily hanging clouds. Along the dark paths of the alleyway stood Sam- completely drenched from head to toe, the precipitation sticking his shiny blonde hair to his forehead. Large shadows under his eyes seemed to have become even darker covering the radiance it once possessed. The strong stench of the nearby sewage was unbearable; though not for him, as the unendurable smell of blood did not seem to let go.

Blood!

Holding in his right hand was a beautiful dagger studded with exquisite gems pointing downwards, blood dripping from its razorlike blade. His knuckles turned white with the immense strength he applied to the dagger. All his sensations of dropping the dagger perished because of the extreme anger he felt for himself. He felt himself to be completely hollow and deserted just like the houses he was surrounded by.

The sky was getting darker and so was his soul, blinking streetlight above him also surrendered itself to darkness with an exceptionally loud buzz. His control over himself was slowly deteriorating with the rising demon blood now running in his veins; it was taking over him quicker than he had anticipated. The eight- legged creature scuttling along the dark alleyways appeared to have experienced another inexorable darkness withing the everlasting night time as they moved frantically, bumping onto each other. He still could not comprehend what he had done in the last few hours. The difference between reality and imagination was now but a thin line to him. Every time he closed his eyes, the grotesque scene presented itself before him like a natural order, the scene of him picking up the exquisite dagger his father presented to him on his sixteenth birthday. The scene of the same dagger being pierced through his father’s stomach. The scene of him running away from home in the cloudburst and entering the most mysterious and darkest alleyways he had ever set foot in. Among all this, the inexplicable pleasure he felt after killing the only person he loved his entire life.

At a distance, in the endless long alleyway, below another worn out streetlight appeared a dark figure. A figure more like a shadow standing still and lifeless. Sam moved ahead, towards the figure not intentionally but because of the unknown force that attracted him towards it. The rainfall had stopped, glistening street of the alleyway looked extremely worn and smooth. Instantaneously Sam stopped. He was now standing right in front of the uncanny figure. His blue eyes opened wide; lips parted with utmost stupefaction. The dagger he had been holding for so long slipped from his fingers and hit the ground shattering all the gems it beheld. The thin line between imagination and reality vanished completely as his realized, he was standing in front of a person he loved so dearly but killed so brutally. He was standing in front of his dead father.