August 27, 2021 - Steffen Blake
I Remember the Light,
Vividly even. I can still feel it, deep in the core of my bones. It was beautiful, and terrifying. It was awful in the truest sense of the word, leaving me speechless and exhausted.
But where was I? I recall a highway at first. As often is the case, I do not recall under what circumstances the highway mattered. Before us stretched the city’s skyline. I say us because I remember I was the passenger in this vehicle, the driver’s face however I do not recall. Monolithic shining structures loomed above, linked together in a spiderweb of concrete. Like a procession of ants, cars and trucks of all colors sped along that network of roads, through the buildings, over and under.
I remember it was daytime, and the sun shone down from above. For that point, it was a picturesque image burned in my mind. People smiled and waved as we drove by, faceless and blurred smears.
Reflecting now, I believe I had the two of us, my driver and I, pegged as tourists in a foreign city. The energy was that of excitement and interest in the air. This jewel of productivity and industry was to be our new home perhaps. But that didn’t matter.
I recall the hum first. A single tone that split through the morning and could be clearly heard even within our car. It was then that I realised the sky had an overcast dull shade thrown over it, and suddenly I felt a chill. Looking out from my passenger window I saw it then, a large entity floating in the sky, completely still and unmoving. It’s difficult to describe now, looking back. I would less describe what I saw as a Thing and more a Concept. It had a certain geometric impression to it, like a pattern that hung in the mind, rotating and interwoven back and within itself. I felt it searing into my psyche with each passing second, as if I was gazing into something which I could not fully comprehend.
In color I would simply describe what I felt as green, a sort of neon sensation perhaps. Curiosity? Analysis? The entity loomed in its space above the city, but not precisely above, but perhaps against its skyline? Like a virtual shadow of something beyond my mind’s understanding, cast upon our humane world. And then, RED. This change was met with a dull, throbbing change in song. It was only then that I realised that tone was still present, and had been humming all along. It had filled my senses to the brim until it was all I could hear.
A single object appeared, a streak of white. A projectile in shape perhaps, a missile of sorts? It lazily floated however, drifting down from the sky towards the highway we drove down. Already neighbouring vehicles had begun to swerve and pitch haphazardly in and off the road. I simply felt a chill in my gut, as if I already knew exactly what was to come next. But I don’t think anything could have prepared me. The explosion that followed was terrifying. It sent our vehicle rolling like a toy tossed by a child. I remember the chaotic bending and twisting, the cathartic end as the heaving came to a halt in a pile of rubble. Coughing and spluttering I freed myself from the wreckage and drug my body out of the upended car through the passenger window. The bridge ahead of us had all but been completely demolished, and the highway devastated. Smoking vehicles and corpses littered the street. This was however not the true devastation to befall us.
Narrowing my eyes I looked to where that thing had detonated, and at its epicenter hung a single brilliant light, glowing and rhythmically pulsing. It shrunk down to a single point in the air, so infinitely hot white that my eyes watered and the edges of my vision swam. But I couldn’t look away either.
And then, the screaming. My vision peeled away and everything became bright. It felt like every nerve in my body was dancing out of my skin, like every molecule in my body was spinning out of control. My lungs were upside down and my bones inside out. The bright light filled my vision and screamed into my eyes. It reached out searing fingers and clamped my eyelids open, and my retinas were aflame. I could feel my face burning away. It was like a microwave oven was humming in my chest, and the tips of my fingers and toes were drifting away.
And then, it was over. Like a hangover, I felt drained. I was parched beyond all repair, my tongue had become sandpaper. Sight was all but gone, replaced by dancing blotches and blurry lines. I could hear voices far away crying out for help, but dimmed away as if my hearing was submerged in inky waters. I don’t know how long it took for my senses to come back to me, but I was left with an agonizing headache and an insistent ringing in my ears.
Slowly, tortuously so, I stood up on shaking legs to take stock. Many of the corpses that had littered the streets were gone now, replaced by heapen ash with eroded bones protruding from them. The cars appeared sunbleached, and their tires worn away, many of which had rusted apart and half sunk into the cracked and weathered concrete.
“What the hell happened here…” I found myself wondering aloud. What had that light been? A small handful of people remained, some only half conscious. I remember staring, dazed, at a screaming woman, her hands both reduced to stubbed ends, attempting to shake what appeared to be her husband awake, unaware of the fact half his body was missing and his eyes were clearly lifeless.
I started walking, and only in that moment became acutely aware that the soles of my shoes had worn through completely. My dress pants and shirt were tattered, as if by years of neglect. Where does the time go? I found myself wondering as I stumbled across the street to a nearby building complex.
As I approached the door, I recalled that earlier entity, that concept, that behemoth of an idea, that shadow of a worry. Shaking, I turned back for a moment to gaze towards it, and that was then I realised there were several more of those things floating above the city now. For the moment, they seemed to be unaware of us, simply watching silently from afar. But I knew safety was temporary.
Scrambling for purchase, I climbed the steps up and into the building. I recall a short flight of stairs and countless locked doors. Unbudging and unwilling to aid my search for help. Finally one however gave respite, and I found myself bursting out into what appeared to be a classroom.
School desks were lined up in neat rows, a chalkboard hung behind my back. Dozens of children, still teenagers at oldest, all stood at the massive windows looking out onto the street. I could already hear the humming had begun, and was much louder this time. I cast my worried gaze out the window, and saw not one, but three of those lazily floating missile-like entities drifting down from the sky.
“Get the hell away from the window!” I screamed at the children, grabbing the nearest two at hand and pulling them down to the ground. Most of them obeyed just in time, for the windows imploded into the room with enough force to embed shards of glass into the linoleum flooring. Desks were tossed up into the air, and I raised my eyes to see one child, a young girl standing in the middle of the room, blown back by the force and into the far wall where she crumpled like a flower crushed under an unforgiving heel.
And then, once again, light filled the room. Brilliant blinding light beyond comprehension. Like an angelic hymn it called, beckoned. I watched her eyes widen and her pupils dilate as the light completely bathed her broken body. All of the remaining children sat with their backs to the wall below the window, shielded from that searing white heat, mute and confused.
But the girl was not, it completely enveloped her, and I had to shield my eyes and look away. I imagine we all did. When the light faded, the far wall was completely bleached white, all the papers pinned up on it now turned a mottled brown and molded away. The girl had stretched her arm out towards the light, as if reaching for some invisible goal. But her eyes were now lifeless.
For a moment the room was simply stunned silence. Then the screaming and crying began. It was a chaotic upending of children, which was understandable in the moment. I stood up, the only adult in the room, and commanded silence.
“We need to get underground. Is there a basement here?” I asked. The children looked at each other, and some nodded, “Show me” I commanded.
We left the classroom and the girl’s corpse behind. The procession was a slow and solemn one, stalking down hallways in dark shadows. The power had gone out now. However, one final gauntlet laid before us.
The last hallway stretched on nearly 50 metres, at least. Along the left side was completely lined with large glass windows, and I remember those entities, those Leviathan, floated just outside on the street. If we stepped out into their view, it was without a doubt another attack would be launched.
We only had one choice.
“Run!” I screamed, and so we did. But I was an adult, and I could run much faster than any child. It took little effort to cross the gap, and as I made it, I turned behind me to watch the procession of children follow behind.
And was horrified to see nearly all of them, save two that had made it to be beside me, standing stock still along the hallway, staring out into the windows, bathed in that sickening light. The humming was brilliant then, and the heat deafening. I dropped to my knees, screaming for them to look away.
But they couldn’t, not now. Not ever. Their eyes darkened and filled, and I could feel one of those entities rising up to greet them. The children all raised their arms, as if beckoning a father to lift them up into the air for play.
“No!” I screamed once more, but one by one I watched in horror as each child crumpled in a pile, a lifeless husk of a doll. The echoes of their bodies thudding to the ground was almost a dry whisper of sound and still reverberates in my mind today.
One of the last remaining two children pulled on my hand, pointing at the door. I opened it, casting one last glance over my shoulder at those poor porcelain dolls shattering on the floor in a heap, before heaving myself down the stairs into the depths of the basement.
Down in that concrete shell I knew we still were not completely safe. Small windows stood up at the top of the walls, letting small slivers of light slip through. I could feel any moment now, those things would be coming for us down here. At the back of the basement I found a small hole, perhaps a storage shed or cellar of sorts. I ushered the children down into its pitch black reaches.
Turning back however, I knew we would need better protection. A thick sheet of rusted metal sat several feet away, not quite big enough but… better than nothing. Swallowing my nerves back I set to work, gripping the edge of that sheet and dragging it at an agonizing pace towards the cover of that cellar. Already that blinding light was beginning to leak down the stairs and through the windows into the basement, slowly filling it with that suffocating heat. I could hear it now, that hum.
But I pressed on, pulling the metal over the entrance to the cellar. The sheet metal began to warm rapidly, and the blinding light soon bled around its edges. I gripped it with my fingers tight, and the children cowered in the back of the cellar, screaming in fear. It felt like the force of a thousand bodies were tearing at the metal, madly trying to pry it from my fingers. Wisps of smoke slid through, tickling my senses.
“Come with us” they whispered to me, cooing and beckoning, “All you have to do is let go”. And for a moment, my grip slipped just a bit. But one of the children cried out and I snapped back to reality.
With a cry of frustration I pulled with all my might, wedging the sheet of metal against the sides of the cellar. I felt that light scream back at me in frustration, tearing and heaving at the metal. It had begun to glow red with heat now, threatening to give in. I could already feel the sweat pouring down my neck as I backed away from the sheet metal, shielding the children with my body.
The heat was almost unbearable as I clenched my eyes shut tight, holding the children’s hands in my own. Was this going to be the end? Surely we were done for. The light was burning through even my eyelids, and I had to raise a hand up to shield them from that searing sensation. I could feel that humming again, drilling through my skull, like a set of fingers sliding into my brain and gripping my consciousness. My teeth rattled and shook, and my bones felt like they were set to shatter apart.
When I opened my eyes, I lay in bed staring at the roof, one hand stretched upwards towards my bedroom window, shielding my half opened eyes from the morning sun that had just begun to peak over the horizon.
I can still feel it, that humming vibration under my skin. I will never forget it.
And I can still remember it. The light.