In the Darkness. Flash Fiction.

“The dead can be a little restless, you need to walk through the tunnels at least once every four hours. You don’t have to speak to them if you do not want to, they find the presence comforting enough.”
“But why do they need our presence?”
The old man’s face darkened, “We do not really know, it is not something that is widely discussed, few among the public are even aware of the service that we provide. We all have our own theories. Did they tell you that I died once?”
“No, they didn’t.”
He shook his head, “Awful business. I was only a child, I fell into a pond and drowned, luckily a man passing by was able to revive me. I don’t remember much about that man, but I remember the awful, cold blackness that filled me. There was nothing on the other side, no god, no light, no past relatives. It was cold and it was empty and I was completely alone. That is why the dead find us comforting I think. They can feel the living as they pass by.”
The old man sighed heavily, “I dread having to go back to that place every day. I know it’s what awaits me, awaits all of us.”
The young man had gone pale, he felt faintly nauseous, he had never really given much thought to what happened after you die, he had just assumed it would be like they said, eternal peace and happiness. From one of the alcoves came a low, mournful moan. The young man jumped, the old man chuckled at his discomfort. “they like to call out to us sometimes, remind us that they are still here. You’ll get used to it, they mean no harm. It might seem scary at first but you’ll adjust. Probably quicker than you expect too.”
The young man turned as he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, he let out a startled yell that was bordering on a shriek, the old man stopped his slow, steady walk and turned, frowning at the corpse that was now sitting up in its alcove. The yellowed sheet had fallen down its chest, revealing an emaciated body. The skin of the corpse was a deep brown, its eyes were two black pits in its face, its cheekbones jutting out sharply just below them. The young man opened and closed his mouth, then finally he was able to speak, “Do…do they always do that?”
The old man was frowning, he had gone slightly pale, “No, I’ve never seen them do that before.”
The corpse raised its hands and clasped them together, the bones in its fingers creaking and cracking at the movements. It opened its mouth and drew in a long, rattling breath before it started to talk. The voice came as more of a hiss, it reminded the young man of the sound of air being let out of a balloon.
“There’s something here in the dark, please. Save me.”
Around them they could hear the sound of more an more of the corpses sitting up, the same phrase echoed throughout the winding labyrinth, as each corpse pleaded with the living, “Save me.”


About Alan James Keogh

I am a 26 year old writer who somehow tricked U.C.D. into giving me not only a degree in English and Classical studies, but an Hons Masters in Creative Writing too. Visit my blog where I post short stories twice a week (Monday and Wednesday) and an installment of a serialised novel on Fridays. I did consider writing this in the third person, as though it was written by someone else, but Alan is not comfortable writing in the third person as it seems kinda creepy and unbalanced so Alan decided it was probably best to write in the first person. He hopes it went well for him.
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1 Response to In the Darkness. Flash Fiction.

  1. Pingback: In The Darkness. Flash Fiction. — Alan James Keogh – horrorwriter

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