Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark

Posted: September 1, 2013 by writingsprint in Suspense, Writing
Tags: , , , ,


“Ba’al” by Marcin and-Dawid Witukiewicz

Dr. Cane waited in an underground tomb. The area was lit only by a shaft of light that the workers had used to find their way at night, and to let in air as the tomb was being built. Outside, he heard the priests calling people to moonrise prayer. They had a few minutes of distraction.

Footsteps. Cane held the crystal in one hand. His fingers clenched around it. He couldn’t give it away, but at this point, he had no choice. They had his boy.

“Dr. Cane?”

Cane nodded. “Dr. Bianchi. It’s strange to hear your voice in person.”

“Why did you insist on meeting here? In the dark?”

“So that neither of us could use guns on the other.”

“So. Do you have the crystal?”

“Do you have my son?”

Cane’s eyes were better in the dark than he let on. He had been here for hours. The nefarious bastard who’d taken his son stood at the end of the corridor. Cane’s son stood next to him. His hands were zip-cuffed. His eyes and his mouth were duct taped. Cane watched as Dr. Bianchi peeled off the tape.

“Dad? It’s Steve. Get me out of here.”

“Stay calm, Steve. Everything’s going to be fine,” Cane said.

Cane saw the reflection of moonlight off the blade of a curved, ancient dagger. No doubt a crystal just like the one cane held in his hand was embedded in its hilt. Cane held back a scream as the dagger brushed Steve’s hair. He couldn’t let Bianchi know he could see him.

“Yes. It’ll be fine,” Bianchi said. “Now, the exchange. Bring the Eye of Baal to me.”

“My son first. I’ll leave the crystal at my feet. You can come get it after we leave.”

“Ha! You’re in no position to dictate, doctor. As I said—” Bianchi heard an audible clicking sound. He froze. “What was that? I told you, bring no weapons!”

“That’s the sound of a pair of steel grips being locked around your crystal. We use them at the dig site. All I have to do is push a button and your crystal’s a pile of fragments.” Cane paused to let that sink in. “I won’t use it unless I have to. I want this to be over. Send my son over now.”

“I hope you can find your way in the dark,” Bianchi said. He shoved Steve forward.

After having his eyes taped shut for two days and being brought over with a bag over his head, Steve’s night vision wasn’t all that bad. He knew which tomb he was in the moment that he saw it, like Cane knew he would. He waved Steve over.

Then he turned on the grips. The hall filled with the sound of grinding steel and breaking stone.

Cane grabbed Steve and the both of them took off running. Bianchi screamed. His gun sounded like Baal’s own thunder going off next to their ears. The muzzle flash strobed the tunnel, but they were already out of Bianchi’s sight. Cane pulled them to the left down an intersection.

“Did you really destroy it?” Steve said as they ran.

“Pottery. He’ll figure it out in two seconds.”

They heard a scream, followed by the sound of the grips being thrown against the wall. Cane yanked them right down another intersection. They were heading downward.


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