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Rated: ASR · Chapter · Supernatural · #1678413
Prologue to Growing Dark
Growing Dark
(Prologue)

“All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream”
Edgar Allan Poe


         A downpour of rain blanketed the town. The sound of water smashing against rock and dirt filled the air. Great fingers of lightning stretched across the midnight sky, followed by the deafening roll of thunder. The blazing light revealed two figures standing among the rundown houses that line the street.
A woman, dressed all in black with a shawl covering her head, clutching the hand of her five year old daughter. They started walking purposely to the west, following a well worn alleyway between the houses. The endless maze of alleyways had no effect on the woman. She walked onward as one who had traveled the path many times.

        After seemingly endless turns, they arrive at the church. Ravaged by countless years of rain and mildew, it sagged around its frame, leaning slightly to one side. Slowly, the woman and her daughter walked up to the rotted doors. Groaning as if the touch of the woman caused them pain, the doors slowly opened. Death and decay seemed to come from every orifice of the church. An unholy feeling seemed to permeate the air. Whispers echoed through the church, coming from the shadows themselves. Ignoring the evil essence, the woman and her child walked up to the altar.
         “Keaira, you are too young to know the reasons, but I have to send you away for a little while...to protect you.”
         “Mommy? Where are you sending me?”
         “ I-I don't know...I just know you will be safe.”  With the chilling rasp of metal on wood, the woman slowly slid the long black knife off of the altar and lowered it to her daughter's exposed hand. With her other hand, the woman pulled out an old photo of Keaira.
In sad, slow tones the woman uttered, “Servo meus filia intus “ and swept the blade across her daughter's arm, splattering the back of the photo with her blood. With a breath of wind and a still cry piercing the night, Keaira slowly disappeared. Sobbing, the woman slid to her knees,
         “Oh Keaira, I will miss you...Per meus cruor , servo is ex malum!” The blade seemed to shine with glee as blood sprayed along it's length again. The photo had disappeared, never to be seen by the woman again. Sobs wracked the woman's body as she fell on her face. Her lamentations echoed through the night.
         
         “Hello, Cecelia,” came the whisper. Cold and cruel, the voice continued,  “been busy, haven't we?” A chill swept through the room and the shadows deepened. The voice had no source, coming from the shadows surrounding her. The woman's breath caught in her throat.
         “Wh-wh-who are you, demon!?” she choked. A cold, heartless chuckle swept through the room. A shadow slowly detached from the others, taking the form of a tall, pale man dressed all in black.
         “I am Tynan. Dark is my name and I am dark. I am the shadows, I am the night, I am the reason that the dark is feared.”

        His voice was like ice water, waves of pure evil causing the woman to shiver uncontrollably.
Her tremulous voice betraying her, she whispered, “I-I'm not a-afraid of y-you.” Another chuckle swept through the room,
         “I'm sure you aren't,” he said with a hint of sarcasm, chuckling again, he continued, “Well, if you aren't afraid of me, maybe we can find someone you are afraid of.” A feeling quite unlike the evil presence of Tynan filled the room. Cecelia's heart started to pound. Cold sweat ran into her eyes and mouth. She could not move, she could not speak, she couldn't even think. Images ran through her mind, horrible images, images she never wanted to see again.  An enormous shadow lengthened past the others. As a figure started to take shape she closed her eyes, horrified at what she might see.
         The dark voice of Tynan whispered in her ear, “Fear is just the beginning. When this is finished, you will wish you were just afraid.” Cecelia kept her eyes shut tight. “Take her home.” She winced, expecting some evil creature to grab her with razor sharp claws. Violent trembling wracked her body as she waited. Nothing in her mind except pure fear, blocking out all else. I thought started to worm its way into her mind. It was saying something, something she could not hear. She concentrated on that one thought as hard as she could, suddenly she could hear what it was saying,
         “Open your eyes, little one.” Unwillingly, her eyes snapped open. A scream split the night in two. She saw blood running down the walls, fire burning deep beneath her feet, and eyes, the eyes of fear. A deep, gravely laugh rippled through her mind, “Look into the eyes of fear!” She saw her husband, hanging from a noose. She saw herself, impaled on a giant spear. Worst of all, she saw her daughter, lying in a pool of blood. Her form limp and lifeless, her throat cut. Then, it was all over, her heart stopped, her eyes closed, and she was gone.

        “Cecelia, listen to me. This is extremely important, for your sake as well as your daughter's.” The mysterious voice sounded urgent and hurried, but softened, “Have you decided what you are going to name her?”
         “Yes, her name is to be Keaira.” Cecelia answered, her voice slow and weary.
         “Why must you tempt fate with such a name as that?” Came the voice again, sounding annoyed.
         “I thought it fitting that the darkness be destroyed be one who shares the same name.”
         “Aye, fitting it is. However, it will be all for naught if she is not protected”
         “Are you asking me to send away my own daughter the day after she was born?!”
         “Yes! Do you not think that removing the darkness from the world forever is more important than one person's wants?!” The sound of a fist striking wood contrasted against the quiet arguing. “I think not! If you hold on to her it puts her in danger and makes it that much harder for you to let go when the time comes.” Silence started to take over. After a few minutes there was a small sigh.
         “I know...but even so, I want to keep her. Five years, that's it, then I will send her into hiding. They shouldn't be able to find her in five years, right?”
         “It seems unlikely, but you are taking a terrible risk. Are you willing to doom us all for five years with your daughter?” Once again, silence stretched as the gravity of the situation sunk in. It was an entire fifteen minutes before she dared speak,
         “I am willing.”
         “Then God be with us.”


         Blood. Fire. Death. The sound of metal on metal. This was the environment that Cecelia woke to.  Jerking into wakefulness she cried, “Keaira!!” Wild-eyed she scrambled to her feet, gasping for air. This exertion proved to be to much for her however and she collapsed. An unnatural darkness started encroaching on her vision.
         “Keaira,” she muttered, “Keaira, Keaira, Keaira, Keaira.....” The refuge of unconsciousness proved to be too great of a temptation and she blacked out.

        “Wake up, Cecelia...the dead need no sleep.” Eyes that were once shut tight suddenly snapped open. Panic flowed through Cecelia's body yet, her heartbeat did not quicken, nor her breathing. In fact, she wasn't breathing at all, nor was her heart beating. Her flesh was cold, lifeless. Her eyes, dark and sunken, swept the small room she was in and she gasped in unbelief. This was Keaira's room. Her hand flew to her mouth when she saw a small form lying on the bed.
         “Mommy?”
         “NO!!! This is impossible!!” Cecelia cried in horror. “NO!!! You aren't real! I don't believe it!”
         “Mommy? Why are you yelling, mommy?” Slowly, Keaira got off of the bed and started walking towards Cecelia. “I love you, mommy. Don't yell at me.”
         “Keaira? Is it really you?” Cecelia asked in disbelief. “How could it be you? By my own blood I sent you away! To protect you! How are you here?!”
         “Don't be afraid, mommy. It's me. Don't worry.” Reaching out with open arms, she hugged Cecelia around the waist. “We will be together forever now!” Sobbing, Cecelia fell to her knees,
         “Oh, Keaira! How I love you! But by my love I have doomed us all!” Hugging Keaira to her chest, she started rocking back and forth. Warm, sticky blood stuck to her fingers. Mouth open in a silent cry of horror, she slowly looked down at her daughter. A flayed, bloody mass of flesh stared back up at her, staining the front of her shirt with blood. Screaming, she jumped to her feet and ran across the room, flailing her hands trying to remove all traces of the disfigured form. Bile rose up in her throat and, retching, she threw up on the floor. Shaking uncontrollably, she wrenched open the door and ran out...straight into the exact same room.
         “You can't escape, Cecelia. There is nowhere to run, except where I want you to.”

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