And Then There Were...
Jane walked through the door from the kitchen to the living room, glancing around with pride at the turnout for her party. This gathering was functioning as the christening of the old farmhouse that she had recently inherited from her uncle. As she walked through the rooms she was always surprised at the number of childhood memories that sprinkled upon her mind; memories of trips to visit her hermit of an uncle in this very house. And now it was hers. She hadn't lived there for more than a month when she decided to invite the acquaintances she had made in this new town to her new home.
Jane had tried to create a favorable and memorable experience for them. She had stereos playing various styles of music in different areas of the house and had even laid out a few expensive cigars next to the small cache of fine liquors on the rustic bar. She had decorated each room and had tastefully placed a few candles here and there to enhance the visual warmth of each wood-lined room.
Her efforts had seemed to pay off, since it was clear that her guests were enjoying themselves. She noticed that about a third of the cigars remained, and there were several half-drained liquor bottles on the bar top.
It was a while after the party's peak and revelers were leaving to take partially-inebriated strolls. Jane looked out at the darkness that became syrupy thick just fifty steps from the house. Despite being lit by electricity and festivity, on this night the vast gloom was nearly impenetrable. Jane leaned against one of the columns on her front porch to listen as groups and couples enjoyed the land or left for home. She noted that none of her guests' cars were gone, despite there being significantly fewer people remaining. In fact, at least eight of the individuals whom she had witnessed going for strolls had not returned in almost three-quarters of an hour.
As another group of three walked down her front steps she asked, "Are you calling it a night, guys?"
Larry, one of the three, replied over his shoulder, "Nah, we're just gonna cool off before driving on home. We'll give you a holler before we head on out."
The trio ambled into the night under Jane's watchful eye. Soon her vigilance could not pierce the blackness and she strained to listen to their walk. Some giggles and hushed words played themselves upon her ears and her shoulders started to give up some of the tension that she hadn't noticed was there. Then it abruptly stopped.
In the middle of a laugh and a word there was no more sound from the three. After a handful of moments Jane tentatively called out, "Larry? Are you alright?"
The quiet in the gloom overtook the lingering revelry that remained in the house. As Jane waited for a response that wouldn't come, the sense of unease spread among those out on the wide porch; several of the partiers had witnessed Jane's interaction with Larry and were further disquieted by her current catatonia at the edge of the inky darkness.
"Hey Jane, snap out of it," one unsteady guest said as he brushed past the doorsill onto the porch. His buddy and his buddy's girl followed him out of the house. The scene was becoming a bit embarrassing; here was the hostess being comforted and brought back to here senses in front of a handful of onlookers.
"Yes--no, I was, eh, enjoying the beautiful darkness tonight... Just... saying goodbye to Larry and friends. Come on-"
"There's nothing to be scared of, Jane!" interrupted the woozy guest. His eyes lethargically followed any motion around him as he leaned against the outside of the house. "It's just a little ghost out to play tonight--I don't blame him either--he probably just wishes he was invited. That's all."
Urged on by the gentle laughter his comment had elicited, he turned and descended the front steps. "Let's find our Larry," he said to no one in particular. His buddy and the girl obeyed.
"Well, thanks, Frank. You don't need to bring Larry back if--when--you find him. I'm sure we'll be OK."
Those on the porch started to filter back inside the house and Jane followed them. At the threshold she turned to face the yard. An anxiety she couldn't name forced her to watch Frank. As he and his friends waded further from the house she noted that the darkness seemed more solid than it had earlier. It was like a fog that, instead of being grey or white, was a clingy sucking ether waiting to coil around anything that violated its space. She even thought she could see its tendrils and wisps curling about the three forms as they walked away from her!
What could she say? Look out, it's dark! No, that would be ridiculous. There was nothing to be alarmed about. There couldn't be. Clearly it must all be in her mind; she must be imagining that this bottom-of-the-ocean darkness was penetrating the radiant defenses of her porch lights. No, she should shake off her anxiety and enjoy the evening.
She was about to return to the festivities when the trio completely disappeared. One second she could make out the white striped shirt on Frank's friend and the girl's sparkling barrettes and the next they were gone. They should have still been within her gaze, but it was as if they had suddenly passed below the surface of an ink-pool; swallowed. Jane didn't want to stand still and let her growing fears of the impossible shake her.
As she reentered her home, she felt stiff inside. She felt as if she couldn't blink or think, and if she were to let one of her knees buckle, the rest of her would follow like a house of cards. It was time to end this night.
"Alright guys. I'm gonna have to kick you all out now. You don't have to go home but you can't stay here."
Several of the party's patrons picked up their things while a handful took the time to wind down their quiet conversations. As the first of her departing guests filed out of her home and into their cars Jane breathed a sigh of relief. Once everyone was gone her fears would have nothing to feed on. She'd be able to get a better grip on the rational Jane that seemed to have eroded so quickly.
The dome lights of the three cars dimmed as they purred to life and enclosed their travelers in a dashboard-lit hush of lateness and gentle motion. In a single file they motored down the long twisting drive towards the road. Already Jane's lungs felt a little freer to breathe.
As the first of the three cars got about halfway to the road, her breath caught in her throat. The car's lights had disappeared! No sound, no sign of swerving or stopping: the taillights had simply seemed to flick off, and the warm pool thrown by the glaring headlights had vanished with them. With a soundless crash in Jane's chest the lights of the other vehicles followed suit. There was no trace left to stare after, just an immutable opaque curtain hanging between the sky and the ground.
Jane was not the only witness to the disappearances. All of the pedestrian partiers were with her on the porch, shrugging on their light jackets and shaking hands. They had observed the stark dousing of the cars' life-affirming lights and they could see the unease and fear taking hold of Jane.
This fear was contagious, and as it swept over the porch-bound observers Jane noticed that though she was no longer alone in this nightmare, she didn't feel any less crazy. Within two minutes the virus had spread itself to the remaining handful that was now silent on the front porch. Uneasy glances were met with the same, and no one dared hold the gaze of another.
"If you'd like to stay for the night that would be fine, too..." Jane hoped that at least a few would take her offer and that in the morning they would wake from this horrible dream together.
"No way, I'm out of here!" blurted one of the remaining guests, eyes darting more and more wildly out onto the invisible fields.
"Yeah, let's go," chimed in a few others, happy to escape in a group. Quickly all semblance of politesse was being dropped.
Without further talk to delay their departure the intrepid group nearly bounded off the steps and ran straight towards the road, where they had parked. Only Marcus, Jane's first acquaintance in this town, remained on the porch with her; his mouth hung loosely and his eyebrows were knit together in a confused fumbling of thoughts and decisions. Together they listened as the dry sounds of gravel being chewed underfoot moved further away. Jane felt that she already knew what to expect. As soon as the group was lost to sight their sounds were lost as well, much too quickly for any of them to have reached the road.
"This can't... This can't be. This is," Jane mumbled under her breath. She felt a slipping: a sliding of her mind from fear into the numb waters of acceptance.
Marcus's jaw started to move as he stared steadily at Jane, who was silent in an unfocused gaze.
"Jane. Jane? What is this? What is going on?"
"This is going on. This is happening. This can't be and it is."
"You know what this is?" Queried Marcus, suspiciously. "Jane, tell me what's happening!"
"It's the darkness, Marcus. I don't know how, but it's real and it's solid and it's grabbing them. I think it wants the light. It wants to swallow the light and the people that carry it. It wants to extinguish the light...us." Jane slowly turned around and looked at the house. "It took them and it wants us, and it wants this." Her voice was a drone.
"Did you do this? You know what's happening, don't you? You've done something to them! Get away from me!"
Marcus's eyes were locked onto Jane. He slowly backed down the porch, facing her the whole time, his body tense and his attention focused. He moved deliberately and delicately away; away from the porch and the house and Jane with all of the light that they were throwing against the muffling blackness outside.
Jane had already accepted Marcus's fate. She began to run back into the house but regained control of her mind for the last time. She spun to call out to Marcus. He was gone. He hadn't been more than a few yards from the porch one second ago and now was vanished into the thickest air. The solid night seemed closer now. It no longer seemed to fear the lost glow of the departed revelry nor the incandescent defenses of the house's lights.
Jane sighed. She continued into the house and turned off the porch lights. She extinguished the candles and room lighting in the living room and moved to the kitchen. She wasn't as scared now, just terribly sad; there was nothing she could do to stop this invisible monster.
As she sat down at the kitchen table she reached over to the wall switch that would turn off the last light in the house-the last shred of warmth that was repelling the encroaching oblivion. She hesitated for a second as her instincts tried one last time to fight for her survival.
She flipped the switch, closed her eyes, and let it come.
to the fork in the road