Prompt Day #280: What is the filthiest place you avoid in your day-to-day life? A nasty corner of the basement? A restroom in your office building? The dump you drive past on your way to work? Choose the worst. Now imagine that something evil resides there. Write about its emergence.
Here’s my feeble attempt at prose. I won’t do that again. lol.
What Grows in the Darkness
Memories are a sort of power, like electricity, they flow through items leaving a charge. Later, when this talisman is held or touched, a spark jumps from it to the keeper generating the memory which begins the cycle again.
Sometimes memories are too painful so they get boxed up and put away, far into the darkness where they can no longer hurt us. Here they are forgotten, neglected. Childhoods, lost loved ones, and broken hearts throb with the power of emotions too strong to revisit.
In a dank, mildewed corner, a box stuffed full of such charms sits thrumming with potential. Pain is a magnet, drawing ugliness and evil. Spores of must roll across the floor, vibrating with negativity. Predators build protective webs around the growing body until the net too is incorporated in the monster that is the past.
Rain seeps through the cement and the mold grows, feeding on the dampness, eating through its cardboard prison. Pictures stick to each other, obituaries cut from newspapers become pulp and the creature of darkness swallows them.
Circles and circuits, grief and denial propagate in the absence of release until the potential becomes kinetic. Like Frankenstein’s monster, the anthropomorphic untended torment gasps into life. An obsidian form slinks out of the mold and creeps up the stairs to haunt those who inhabit the light and deny the dark.
In the sun, we may acknowledge shadows but quickly explain them away, keeping our walls up to shield our fragile hearts, but in the witching hour, when all is pitch, we cannot turn our back on the shadows, for they surround us. It is here in the sleeplessness, the Anguish attacks. Born of forgotten memories, fed of repudiated heartache, powered by abandoned awareness a behemoth comes to devour your soul.