![]() ![]() I liked it :-) But I have a small problem. This endless process of dying was almost worth it, simply because it would never end. She could leave, of course she could scurry from darkness to darkness like the vermin beneath her warm refrigerator. It was a small price to pay, she knew she would live forever but for sunlight, fire, the presence of a God she had prayed to in life but hid from in this eternal night. This gift, this immortality, ended abruptly at the peeling paint of her apartment walls. She didn't seem to have time for anything her days were consumed by exhaustion and her nights by thirst. Her power was limitless she was a god among insects. She had eternity at her fingertips, but not the time to snuff out a cockroach. It could never know, with its furtive intelligence, that she was simply to old to bother. The poor thing moved on instinct, fearing that its presence would provoke her to disgust, afraid that she would smear it from existence simply because it was there. ![]() Something scurried away from the edge of Luz' field of vision, seeking again the safety of shadows. Some of them had had no more need of their belongings, anyway. Each of the things here, every rug and afghan, had been carefully chosen, though mostly from the homes of her victims, who were too drunk with lust to protest. Either way, the dull tones of midnight were not bright blues and reds, the colors of her childhood. This light might have been paler, but then, her memories of life might simply be more vibrant than reality. Unlike the golden glow of the candles and lamps of her previous life, now rendered implausible by the heat of their flames, the fluorescent bulbs mimicked daylight. It was dark in here she moved to the doorway and flipped the light swtich, and the bedroom suddenly glowed with color. Luz shook her head, clearing her thoughts, a trick she had found to be quite useful. ![]() The one who had made her had at least had time to explain the dangers of sunlight and fire before she. That first night had been the hardest she had been forced to take refuge in a crypt, and she would never be able to erase the memories of the stench, the rats sucrrying beyond her sight, and the last terrified moment of consciousness before slumber overcame her. Luz preferred it that way over the years, she had grown accustomed to existing in the darkness.Īt first, the shadows had frightened her. The yellow glare of the lamps outside and the gentler glow of the moon were absorbed by the thick cloth, and the only illumination in her small bedroom came from a flickering nightlight in the hall. Luz let the heavy, brown curtain fall back into place as she slid away from the window. Sometimes, that fact felt impossible to her, the surreal product of an insane age, and she wondered if the moon might be the charred, grey cinder left of a light that had abandoned the world. The sun might have died but for the pale, dead moon that Luz had read reflected its light. Hours of locked doors and broken streetlamps stretched into infinity, running together like scenes in a film, broken only by brief, invisible transitions. Night had become a permanent state of being. This isn't really a story, but more of a character introduction. So, I guess I'd like to know what you think of the character, Luz, and whether the way I'm setting this up is just stupid or not. I've written a little more than just this, but this is a decent stopping point for the beginning. I haven't decided whether I want to keep on or not. (No comments about whether I ask for it generally, kthx.) This is the beginning of a story.maybe. Well, all of you who love to criticize the hell out of everything I say or do, this time, I'm asking for it. ![]()
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