Short Story - Lights Out Universe
The lights surrounding the Hallman Industries factory kept it illuminated like a beacon. With a light fixture positioned every fifty feet around the structure, which boasted sixty thousand lumens of output combined, these lights formed a 150-foot ring of safety all the way around the factory. A ring of safety Mitra had hoped he would never actually need to rely on.
Today, however, calamity befell Mitra as he neared the end of his shift at work. A misaligned rotor caused the belt on his production line to tear, taking it offline. The process of fixing it and making up for lost time to meet his daily production quota had taken two hours.
Now it was 6:30 p.m. and the sun was setting. It took with it the safety of its ninety thousand lumens per square foot of blanketing light. As Mitra stared at the growing darkness beyond the safety of the factory lamps, all he felt was despair.
The electrical hum of lights spinning up was welcome; so familiar a sound now that the dark, by comparison, was terrifying. He looked up with hope and saw its source. A path of light fixtures before him, leading away from the factory. Looking more carefully, he was certain this path led to the worker dormitories. To Mitra, each light looked like an angel descended from heaven, promising to guide him to safety. Each one another fifty thousand lumens of defiance against the devouring darkness.
Mitra hurried towards the path of lights, anxious to get back to the safety provided by being indoors. Rumors remained that being outside after dark was dangerous, even with a light. He didn’t want to test the truth of it. As he approached, he began to see a problem with the path of lights. Each individual lamp lit up a sizable area, but together, they didn’t provide a solid path of light. Between each circle of safe, protecting aura was a dark region, probably about five feet across.
The first dark region was at the edge of the factory lighting. Mitra stared at it in apprehension. Was it really only five feet across? It seemed more like five miles. With a sigh, he reached into his bag. After a few moments of searching, he pulled out a small lamp he always carried for emergencies. Its output was a measly five thousand lumens. It couldn’t compete with the output of the floodlights above him, but maybe it’d be enough to get him across five feet.
Mitra stepped toward the first dark region, his lamp held high above him, its glow hardly even noticeable amidst the lighting from overhead. He shuffled as close to the darkness as he dared before he faltered. Mitra sensed the eyes watching him. He knew where they were coming from. They were coming from the darkness, just beyond the reach of his sight. The devious things in the darkness, they were out for him tonight. Mitra felt compelled to ease back a few steps into the safety of the light from the factory.
Why would the designers leave gaps in the light here? Didn’t they know that even small gaps in between were dangerous? Mitra cursed. The designers must be ridiculously cruel, or ridiculously stupid, to have set up the lights like this.
Mitra studied the distance to the first circle of light. He held his breath and closed his eyes. Then, he sprinted, screaming into the barrier of darkness, his small lamp held high above him. He could tell when he crossed into the darkness, even through his closed eyelids. His eyes also immediately told him when he returned to the safety of the light.
Mitra stopped and opened his eyes. After a moment spent looking around, he jumped for joy. He had made it. It was a small milestone, reaching the first light post, but it was proof—proof he could do this. He would simply sprint from light to light all the way home. Mitra’s trusty handheld lamp was enough to fend back the monstrosities lurking in the darkness.
Mitra felt his confidence building as he approached the next gap in the light. With the lamp still held above him, he bolted through it, this time with his eyes open. He emerged from the darkness to the next spot of light. A wide smile formed on his face. He could do this.
Collect himself.
Lift the lamp.
Sprint across the darkness.
Rest and recover.
Collect, lift, sprint, rest. Collect, lift, sprint, rest. Over the past several lights, Mitra had gotten into a steady rhythm. He’d almost lost track of how many lights he’d run through. He hadn’t, though, not really; this was his fortieth light post. His mission was going well, all things considered.
The strange sounds had started at light twenty-one. A weird mixture of chirping and clicking. He swore a dragging sound accompanied it, too. And he was absolutely certain the sounds sped up, got closer and louder as he sprinted through the dark areas. At around light twenty-four, the worry started that his small lamp may not be capable of keeping the darkness at bay. This realization made him run even faster.
He noticed the odor at light twenty-nine, a dank, almost rotten stink. It drifted in on the breeze and seemingly engulfed him. The first time he smelled it, he was taking a deep breath after his sprint from twenty-eight to twenty-nine, and he keeled over. It was a real struggle to keep his lunch inside him. The stench was awful. However, now at light post forty, he barely noticed it. He was aware the stench was present, but, like the sounds, he had put them out of his mind. Mitra needed to do this to keep going forward; ignore the obvious signs of danger all around him and focus on the task at hand.
Collect himself and prepare.
Lift his personal lamp
Sprint like hell across the darkness.
Rest when he gets back into the light.
Light post forty-one.
Mitra had never bothered to count the light posts between the factory and the dormitories before. He’d always planned on avoiding taking this walk after dark. The number of lights, therefore, wasn’t important if he never intended to use them. Now, he wished he had counted them. He couldn’t bear to look ahead and count the number of lights remaining, but counting how many he had gone through gave him some level of comfort. A reminder he had done this already an increasing number of times.
Light post forty-two.
At light post fifty-seven, he encountered someone. It came as quite a shock to encounter someone else out in the darkness. Had misfortune smitten Mitra with a similar mishap to the one he’d dealt with earlier today? But then, why was this other person still here? Wouldn’t he have continued forward? Everyone knew getting home was the safest option. No one knew what would happen if one of these lights went out and someone became trapped in the darkness.
The person seemed huddled on the ground, unmoving and staring into the distance. Mitra spent a moment trying to engage, but it soon became clear his efforts were pointless. He decided that, if they were going to space out, that was their prerogative. Mitra couldn’t stick around and worry about them. Not when it was dark outside. He looked up to the next light, and his heart sank.
Light post fifty-eight was missing. He could clearly see where light post fifty-eight should be, but in its place was only darkness, all the way to light post fifty-nine. He fell to the ground, right next to the person he had just met, and let out a cry in despair.
The darkness before him was the reason this person was stuck here. They had been trying to get home, just like Mitra. But, after encountering this same obstacle, they had found themselves unable to move forward. Mitra knew that he, too, would be unable to progress any farther. Not into the sea of darkness spread out before him.
He faced the person again and inquired, “How long have you been waiting?”
The person looked up. In the light, Mitra determined them to be a man, probably ten years older than him. He finally responded with, “I’ve been stuck here for thirty minutes, hoping the light would come back on. Not even a flicker though. I fear we may be here all night.”
He had gone and said it—“we”—as if he and Mitra were both going to be stuck here together. But who was Mitra kidding? He was trapped here too. After all, Mitra didn’t see how he could possibly make it across such a stretch of darkness. Not with the sounds from within the darkness amplifying as each minute passed. Not with the horrible odor re-encroaching on his awareness, reminding him of the horror that waited just on the other side of the threshold of shadow.
Mitra knew that staying here overnight would drive him mad. But he also knew that he’d have to be mad to try and make it through the darkness. For now, he would have to wait. He put some hope into the thought that light post fifty-eight would turn back on, even though he didn’t have much hope to spare.
A few hours seemed like an eternity. First, the stranger Mitra met, then Mitra himself, had to relieve themselves. A small pile of human waste serving as a constant reminder of their fear. The stench of it mixing with the vile smell that continually wafted in from the darkness. The odor on the breeze was getting stronger, the noises getting louder. He could feel the presence building up around him. It was only a matter of time before Mitra lost his sanity in this small circle of light. He peeked at the man next to him. They hadn’t even exchanged names.
A strange warble cut through the silence. Mitra looked up, surveying all around him. He almost expected something to lash out at him, light be damned. Spinning in a succession of circles, he lost track of where he thought the sound had come from. He gritted his teeth. Was he going to spend all night like this? Was someone going to find him dead in the morning, lying next to a pile of his own waste? No, he would survive the night. He would. Even if he was forced to stay awake all night in this stupid circle. He looked at the watch strapped to his wrist.
9:47 p.m.
The time hit him like a punch in the gut. Only three hours had passed. The sun would rise at 6:32 a.m. tomorrow. He still had nine hours of darkness to endure, sitting next to his own filth, shivering in the dark with this stranger.
“Hey,” he spoke out, remembering too late that he didn’t know the man’s name. “Hey, you, we need to make it across. We won’t make it through the night otherwise, not like this.”
The man chuckled. “No, we won’t make it. It’s too dark. Nothing survives the dark.” His voice carried a tone of finality; he was not going to move from this circle of light. This circle of safety in the night.
The light above them flickered, momentarily engulfing them in darkness before coming back on again. During that brief flash of darkness, the man had transitioned from sitting to standing. Mitra hadn’t seen him move. He was simply sitting one moment and standing the next.
The man was visibly shaken by the sudden darkness, at least as shaken as Mitra was. In his peripheral vision, Mitra was quite certain he’d seen some kind of shadow looming at the very edge of the light. The terrors were trying to get in; to find Mitra and his companion. This was too dangerous. The safety of light post fifty-seven might falter at any moment. They couldn’t just sit and wait, not here.
Mitra scrambled back through his bag, pulling out the lamp he had put away. “Look! Surely you have a light as well? Alone, they may not be enough, but together…” He held his lamp up. The stranger pulled out his own lamp, and Mitra’s heart sank as soon as he saw it. The man was holding a mere 2,500 lumen lamp. He understood why this man had not braved the darkness. Mitra wasn’t sure he’d have been able to brave the short gaps between light posts with such a weak source of safety. Even so, it would have to do.
“Look! Look!” he said, holding the two lamps together. The stranger lit his. Mitra could tell it didn’t exactly get any brighter, but he had to use this moment. It was either this, or they’d be lost forever. “It’s brighter, bright enough to keep the darkness at bay.”
“It might be,” the man hesitantly agreed. Mitra knew the man wasn’t convinced it would provide enough safety; he was half unconvinced himself. Nevertheless, Mitra led the way, keeping the momentum, right to the edge of the circle of light.
“Here, come here. We’ll hold our lights up, like this. See…” He held his lamp above his head. The light seemed to eat into the darkness just a bit. Good, good, that’s what they needed. The man stood next to him, holding up his light as well. The darkness seemed to be pushed back ever so slightly more with his added light. “We can do this. You hold your light, I’ll hold mine.” Mitra hoped the man wouldn’t see the begging in his eyes. Instead, the man simply stared at the small circle of light from their hand lamps, watching with little hope as they battled the darkness. He was either convincing himself this plan would work, or this plan would fail. To avoid the onset of that argument, Mitra had to move now, lest he lose the courage to do this suicidal task himself.
“Alright, on the count of three, we run. One. Two…” Mitra began the countdown, not giving the other man a chance to back down.
Even before Mitra counted the third, the other man started running, his small lamp held aloft. Mitra realized what was happening; the man was hoping to get ahead. The terror in the darkness would take the slower one. He couldn’t get too far behind. Mitra faltered. Was it too late? He took a breath, closed his eyes, and sprinted into the darkness.
It only took two steps for him to realize how foolish it was to close his eyes when he almost stumbled. That would certainly have been fatal. He opened his eyes and focused on his feet. The light he held over his head exposed a new patch of ground with each step he took towards the safety of the next post.
After a few more steps, he caught up to the stranger. Although the other man was sprinting as fast as he could, so was Mitra, and it seemed Mitra was a better runner.
The surrounding noises became deafening, the stench overwhelming, the darkness terrifying. The chirping and clicking were joined by the sound of shuffling, almost slithering sounds. Mitra could tell something was moving along the adjacent pavement. What was it doing? Was it tracking him? Testing itself against the weak protection of his small lamp? It remained in darkness, out of his sight. He’d heard stories, but part of him doubted them because they all said no one had lived to tell the tale.
Lost in thought and focus, he didn’t even notice he’d caught up with the stranger. The sounds coming from the darkness drowned out the sound of their own steps. The man didn’t notice Mitra was upon him until he started passing him. He wouldn’t stop; he wouldn’t slow. Mitra would make it into the light. Just a few more meters to safety. He could see the light ahead of him. It appeared to be reaching out to him as if offering a warm, welcoming embrace. He longed to burrow in its warmth, in the safety it afforded against the ghastly darkness all around him.
He heard a noise. It sounded more like a screech than the clicks or chirps that had accompanied him so far. Whatever it was, it sounded far too close. He turned to his right, unsure as to what he was seeing. A dark outline of a clawed hand appeared against the brightness, but it was gone again in an instant. Mitra could tell his acquaintance had glimpsed the shadow as well.
“Ha!” the stranger screamed, just as Mitra felt the man’s hand on his left elbow. What was he doing? The fool! The man jerked back on his arm, confirming what Mitra feared. The man wanted to trip him up. It became apparent only one of them would reach the safety of light post fifty-nine. If even that many made it.
Mitra almost stumbled; he was tired, but his adrenaline had peaked too. It gave him just one moment of strength, one moment of clarity, and, most importantly, one moment of balance. His left foot planted, then his right, and he jerked his elbow away. He felt the man try to pull him back, his arm extending before it reached too far. The man lost his grip and was thrown off balance. Unable to catch himself, he fell. Mitra leapt, trying to stay clear of the body that was flailing about at his feet.
The leap carried Mitra into the halo of light post fifty-nine. The other man was sliding in the dirt, quickly ground to a halt by the concrete under his body. Mitra stopped, turned, and extended his hand. He saw the man’s upper half had made it into the light. Both of them were going to survive. He had thought it impossible, but here it was, reality turning out far better than either of them had dared to imagine.
He took a step closer, then two, his hand still reaching out before him. “Come on, pull yourself up! Grab my hand!” Mitra screamed at him, urging him forward. In this moment of mutual desperation, he was willing to look past the betrayals this man had committed against him a few seconds ago.
A loud crunch emanated from the darkness. The man’s eyes widened, his mouth opened, and his struggles stopped. He looked at Mitra and his outstretched hand, desperation in his eyes, shock overwhelming his senses. But only for a moment.
The man’s shock turned to terror as he let out a bloodcurdling scream. His fingers seemed to dig into the very concrete beneath him, streaks of red forming across its surface as he dug. With growing horror, Mitra realized that he was being dragged back into the darkness. The man’s eyes locked on Mitra’s, pleading through the terror. His chin bounced and scraped along the ground as he screamed in pain and despair.
The man’s beseeching stare seemed to last for hours. Mitra, frozen in place, realizing he could do nothing to help him. If he grabbed him, he’d just be pulled into the darkness as well. Then, with a sickening squelch, the upper body of the man that had once been situated safely in the light, was suddenly hauled away into the darkness. Mitra expected a scream, but the night was engulfed in complete and utter silence.
Fear gripped Mitra. His chest contracted. His breathing stopped. As he peered into the darkness, it beckoned to him, daring him to enter. Mitra saw the silhouette of a face. “Just a little closer,” it whispered. Part of him wondered if it was something he imagined. Or was it was real? He took one step closer to the edge of the circle of light. His foot stepped on a splotch of the stranger’s blood. The redness of it shone out amidst the gray of the concrete, reminding him of what he had just seen, bringing him back to his circumstance. He had to get home.
He turned around and ran. Sprinted faster than he ever had before. He hurtled past the next light, and the one after that, and the one after that, not even bothering to count or build up courage at each gap of darkness. He ran like his life depended on it. To the core of his being, he knew it did.
After completely losing track of any progress beyond making the decision to run, Mitra had somehow crossed the light trail from the industrial zone and was now safely within the residential villa. To his right was the first dormitory. At over fifteen stories tall, it probably housed fifty families.
Living space for factory employees was at a premium. It didn’t help that the owners of the factories were jamming as many employees in the prefab dormitories as they could. Mitra didn’t mind; it was just him living in his dorm. The three-room block he’d rented out sufficed just fine. One private room for him to sleep in, one room for guests and some light cooking, and one bathroom. It wasn’t much, but when he considered he knew of families of four living in the same space, he figured he had it pretty well.
The dormitory building Mitra lived in was several blocks along inside the dormitory villa. Areas further inside the dormitories tended to be better lit, which provided a better sense of safety. Most importantly, with the residential villa came the lights of the residential villa. More sixty thousand lumen lamps, every 150 feet, forming a grid over the entire space. When Mitra reached the edge of that bastion of safety, he fell to his knees, breathing convulsively. Each ragged breath dragging in another lungful of air before pushing it out again. He needed to get more oxygen; he didn’t even notice how long he’d been running, his body having been almost entirely fueled by adrenaline. Now that he was in the relative safety of the residential villa, his legs complained along with his chest. He would sleep well tonight for sure. Mitra knew he would probably still be paying in the morning for what he’d put his body through tonight.
Mitra took a few moments to recover, stooped over, breathing hard. He then stood up and looked around. It took a moment to reorient himself. He was still on the outskirts of the residential villa. He got up to walk towards his house. It still didn’t feel comfortable outside in the darkness, but the safety of the villa lighting was far superior to the broken lighting of the lamp posts he’d been in moments earlier. He didn’t want to guess how long he’d been outside, but he was making a conscious effort to put the events of the night out of his mind. He would deal with that trauma another time, not right now.
As usual, all the residential lights were on throughout the dorms. No one slept with the lights off. To do so was considered suicidal. Even the unoccupied rooms had lights on. Any form of light was preferable to even the slightest shadow of darkness. Mitra walked past column after column of windows. Each one had a family sitting by the lights in their dorm, engaged in a variety of activities. Some were eating, some sleeping, some watching the television feeds. Anything to distract them from the horror that was lurking outside their homes. A horror Mitra had just become much too closely acquainted with.
His dorm was a few buildings away, so he focused on making it home. If he hadn’t been so distracted with trying to keep his mind busy, he’d have noticed that a few of the windows in his dormitory building were not lit.
He pressed his palm against the entry door and it buzzed in refusal. It annoyed him how they relied on biometric security for everything here. “You don’t need to carry around any keys!” was the selling point they’d used to justify it. But it meant you couldn’t get into your home if your hands were dirty. Mitra’s hands were obviously dirty after a long day of work and an eternity spent trying to escape the darkness. He wiped his palms down his pants until he was satisfied they were clean and tried again. The door dinged and let him in.
He pushed open the door and the warmth of the light embraced him. This wasn’t just any light, this was interior lighting from his own home. It was a joy simply to bask in its glow. He slammed the door closed and heard the comforting sound of multiple automatic bolts locking behind him. The dormitories were built like fortresses, giving some semblance of hope even if the lights went out.
As he walked up the stairs in the center of the structure, it troubled him that one of the lights on the third level was flickering. He’d have to get maintenance on it right away. One flickering light was one too many. It brought back a brief memory of being stuck inside a circle of light. When had that happened? Eons ago? Or was it just tonight? He hurried past it when he got to that flight, not wanting to risk being in darkness, even inside the building.
He moved to his room and pressed his hand against the scanner. It gave a chime, and he heard the mechanical bolts snapping free. The door opened with a satisfying creak. But, through the crack of the door, darkness emanated as if invading the brightness of the hallway.
Mitra paused. Had he left the light off? He never came home after dark, but he always kept the light on just in case. Everyone prepared for the darkness, no exceptions. Mitra was having a hard time fathoming how he’d left the light off in his dorm. He considered just sleeping in the hallway, but he had a duty to his dorm mates to turn on his light. All the lights on ensured the safety of the dormitory; one light off was a weakness.
He shuffled through his bag for his lamp again. It was getting way too much use tonight. He clicked it on and held it up before him, the narrow beam cutting through the darkness. As he pushed the door open, the light from the hallway also crept into the room. He stepped inside and moved over to the light switch. The door automatically closed behind him, leaving him with just his hand lamp. When he reached the switch, he immediately pressed his finger over the “on” side, but it didn’t work. The light switch, despite the darkness, was already turned on.
He hurried to find a replacement bulb in a cupboard behind him. Everyone kept a stock of spare light bulbs. As he reached up to open the cupboard, he lost his grip on his hand lamp. His heart almost stopped as the lamp tumbled to the ground and the glass bulb shattered. The room was plunged into total darkness.
Then, he heard it, the chirping sound behind him, followed by a shuffling sound. Had one of them gotten into his dorm? This was impossible. He was well inside the residential villa. They couldn’t be here!
Knowing he didn’t have time to fight for the light bulbs or the broken hand lamp, Mitra dove straight for the door. He felt more than heard a loud thump as something impacted the cupboard behind him.
“Oh shit!” he screamed, reaching for the door, pulling on the handle. The locks! They were automatic. He heard the breath at his back, felt the floor strain as the weight of whatever it was shifted behind him. His hands fumbled along the door frame in search of the lock mechanism. He found it. Something screeched behind him. He turned the bolt. As the door flung open, a flood of light burst into the room. A pained roar erupted from behind him, but he didn’t stop to look. He pulled himself out through the door and slammed it closed without so much as a backwards glance.
His body slid down the outside of the door, trying to comprehend what had just happened. He needed to raise the alarm; they were in the dormitories! The door thumped against his back with a loud bang from inside. The impact practically threw him into the middle of the hallway. He turned and saw the fire alarm. Jumping to his feet, he ran for it and pulled the lever.
An ear splitting shriek erupted throughout the dorm and the emergency strobes flashed a brilliant display across the walls. A sudden but welcome annoyance. He expected to see residents pouring out of the other dorm rooms, but not a single person appeared. Mitra bolted to the window and looked outside. Terror filled him for what certainly felt like the hundredth time tonight. Several lights around the residential villa were off. He pulled himself away from the window and stood under the brightest light, right in the middle of the hallway.
Glancing over his shoulder, Mitra noticed his door was open, the darkness bleeding out of it. But it seems whatever was in there was no longer interested in coming out. He lay down, trying to make himself as comfortable as he could. Before long, he was overcome with exhaustion. The strenuous activity he had endured less than an hour earlier gradually absorbed his fear. His mind couldn’t take any more terror tonight. It was doubtful he’d survive until morning, but his body didn’t seem to care at this point. He was lulled to sleep beneath the persistent wail of the siren and the rhythmic strobes of the emergency light.