the Darkness in the Sky

Years ago when I was a kid, my grandfather and I would sit out on the porch during those long January nights. He'd whip up some hot cocoa and we'd get all bundled up in our winter gear. It's still the best damn cocoa I've ever had. We'd sit out there for what felt like hours. He'd point out and explain constellations, and if we were really lucky - we'd witness the beauty that was the Northern Borealis; I loved every second of it. My grandfather was a man of science, a professor at the city's college. He loved talking about the stars and everything that lies beyond. He'd have his own little theories, some sounded - sound, while others were completely out there. I never had interest in science myself, but he read me this theories like I was a colleague at the school. Of course, his ideas garnered the attention of others. Different companies and universities would approach him with offers and collaborations. Sure, he'd bite sometimes. But there were things he'd keep to himself - but not to me.

His biggest discovery yet was something called the Dark Blot. Not a very distinct name. I didn't exactly remember all the details at the time - but I understand it now on a certain level. It was complex and strange - strange as in another scientist of that degree wouldn't be able to understand it clearly. It was something about well, darkness - in space. Yeah, I know. When we look up, the night sky is only darkness, speckles of stars barely making a difference. But this wasn't the same darkness you know and I knew. I remember him saying something about this blot in deep space. A celestial phenomena. He saw it one time while visiting some fancy telescope. It was ink underwater, he said. Like a giant pen had broken millions of light years away. He went and bought his own telescope, It was still at his house after he'd been - after he was gone. I didn't understand much back then, but I understand now. He was afraid of it. Rightfully so.

It was about four years ago when he was taken. Yeah, taken. He was taken by the United Bureau of Anomalies. To you and anyone else, it sounds like a complete nonsense organization; It did to me. I still don't know what they do or what they want. There's next to nothing about them online. All I know is that they came in black vans with their stupid logo plastered on the sides. There was an agent of some kind. I was inside the house when they visited. I couldn't hear any of it, but I know he didn't go willingly. I went to the police to report the kidnapping, and when I came back his research was missing. Bastards knew I was there, and waited for me to leave. But not ALL of his research was missing, however. He had his secret stash - like he knew someone would come and take his bulk from him, I like to think he had left it for me. The U.B.A. snoops around from time to time. They never caught me. I've gotten real good at hiding things from them. Sometimes, though, I wanna storm out and confront them - let them take me like they took him; sometimes I wish they did.

For the last two or so years, I had been tracking and doing my best to understand this darkness. It spreads, it eats, it gets bigger and closer. I'm sure Nasa and the U.B.A. have some kind of knowledge on it, I know the Bureau does for sure. Sometimes if I look at it hard enough, I could almost feel it - calling. Not my name or anything like that, but I could feel trying to seep into my eyes, into my mind and soul. It was tempting. The only way I to properly describe the feeling is to picture - picture yourself being pushed underwater. That initial fear and confusion as someone's hand keeps your head under. You can't see or breathe - you're at the mercy of the hand. That's what it felt like. Every time. And every time it felt good. I wish I hadn't looked at it for so long.

I'd say it's been three weeks since the incident. It was one of those long January nights. The Arora Borealis were at it again. I didn't have any cocoa. I didn't have much. I've been straining away from the rest of the family ever since my grandfather was taken. They've stopped calling a few months ago. I don't think they'll ever call again. I didn't care at that point. I weeks leading up to the event I had been leaking tidbits of the discoveries my grandfather found. I was trying to catch their attention, both the world and the U.B.A., I wanted to see if they'd bite. During outings to the city I'd see shady-looking characters watching me from a distance. Agents, I assumed. They never made any moves. They just watched me like one of their anomalies. When I'd return home, things would be moved but not taken. Sometimes at night I'd hear creaking. It was them. Still, they never made a move. I'd fuck with them from time to time. I'd plant red-herrings and nonsense made-up crap; fun to think about them squirming in their offices or wherever. We entered a game of cat and mouse.

Back to the incident. The observations I had been making were much more alarming. The dark blot was closer, way closer. I'm no astronomer but if I had to say, I'd pin it right around Jupiter. It must have been stretched out long-ways because it appeared much smaller this close. Looking at got painful, like something drilling into the back of my eye, carving thin layers. The U.B.A. Was near, I knew that much. The darkness was closer. I don't know what was going to happen. My grandfather and the U.B.A. knew much more than I did, I'll give them that. There was so much I didn't know, and I paraded around as if I knew. For what? To stick it to the shady government Bureau because they took my grandfather? What was I thinking? I stood out there in the snow for God knows how long. Just as I did with him when I was a boy. It didn't hurt as much looking at it when it was so far yet so close. There was a beating in my chest, the kind of beating you feel at a concert. I made a mistake.

I shot a flair into the sky. The red light bathed the property and the surrounding forest. The light faded soon after. I looked down at the ground, I could hear their vehicles. They U.B.A. was always close. Two of their vans surrounded me. Men in SWAT-type gear stepped out. Not too many, I was only one person. Their guns were drawn. An agent stepped out of one. She was different than the one that took him, not like it mattered anyways. She held up her badge.

"Agent Weller of the United Bureau of Anomalies." she spoke in a monotone yet authoritative tone.

"I know who bunch are. I give up." I responded. In that moment all I could feel was defeat, "this song and dance are over."

"It's close. You can feel it. We've been monitoring you." she reminded me as she crossed her arms.

"Yeah, no shit. Just take me in. It's close now. There's nothing we can do." I grumbled to her as I extended out my arms. I expected one of those big lugs to slap cuffs on me.

"We have counter-measures for these kinds of things. I invite you to come willingly." her voice seemed more sympathetic, "Your grandfather is alive and well, don't you want to see him again?"

I felt - surprised. In all the movies and TV shows I've seen, people like them always destroy the ones who make big discoveries. My mind wandered, why hadn't he come back to see me? Was the agent lying?

"We can still fix this, together. Just - come with us. Your grandfather has been helping us understand A.E. 128." She extended her hand. I couldn't look at her.

"The Dark Blot. He calls it the Dark Blot." I clenched my fist. A man like that would never let some other eggheads reduce it to a number. The pounding in my chest got heavier, harder. It wanted me to look up. So I did.

I could see the Dark Blot clearly now. It waved around the sky like a blood from a shark bite, flowing like ink underwater. It seared its face into my mind. I couldn't explain it if I could. I looked at it for just a second. The agent looked up. She acted as if she couldn't see it. Couldn't she see it?

"What? What is it? What did you see?!" she demanded. It got windy, her dark hair fell out of its tie. She didn't seem to notice. In the off chance that my grandfather was still alive, there was something I needed to get to him. Something I hadn't mentioned yet. I saw the mind of the Dark Blot. I saw long ago, when I was a boy. I hadn't remembered. Not until now. Flooding images of secret notes and facts about the Dark Blot filled a notebook under my bed. I'd never acknowledge it. I'd never willingly look at it. The Dark Blot had been making me write about it's goal and nature in secret, even from myself.

Without word, I took off into the house. I was lucky the gunners didn't shoot me down then and there. I ran as fast as I could, right up to my old bed. Just like my new memories told me, there were dozens of notebooks. I'd never noticed them. I wasn't allowed to. I grabbed as many as I could, stuffing some into my pockets if they could fit. I made sure not to drop a single one. I ran out the house and into the snow. I dropped them at the foot of the agent. One of her grunts picked them up for her and carried her to the van. I followed her and the troop to one of the vans. They had all kinds of equipment in there. It was all so - secret agent-like. Fitting. The guy dropped the books into a bin and slid it along the floor. Agent Weller turned to me to speak, but I couldn't hear her. Her mouth was moving but I didn't understand. I felt fear, fear like I have never before. Like the embodiment of fear found its way to me. I was erratic, but she didn't react. She just kept talking. Was she blind?

The radios in the van turned on. It was the only thing I could hear. It sounded like someone was speaking - a man speaking in a gruff and raspy voice. A whisper being spoken into a megaphone. It wasn't words, not words I could understand anyways. I knew what it was, though. It was the Dark Blot. It was trying to make contact. I held my head in anguish as it tuned my brain to the right channel. I could hear it clearly now.

"Deeper lashing and blame? seen madness hostage the visions it conjure. Still and wane will its kiss have darkness crown in smell the night your blood. But clawed." and it repeated it over and over. I couldn't make sense of it.

"What do you want?!" I shouted into the sky, at it. It kept playing it's awful poem on repeat. The words drilled into my head, trying to rewrite everything I have ever known. I was never big on gambling, but I'd rather I didn't win this lottery.

"Mine." it whispered to me.

I closed my eyes as tight as I could. And when I opened them, I was here. Trapped in the darkness of the sky. All I have is this notebook in my pocket and this pen. It's not like there's any other way to spend the time.