Darkest Knight Illumination
Darkest Knight Illumination Darkness. It is not merely the absence of light. For one, it is a permanent state of being. Some claim that a moonless night is the poetic epitome of darkness. They are wrong. Some poor souls who have been trapped underground tell of the oppressive, velvet blackness, of how they whimpered with fear as the encroaching darkness swallowed their sanity within hours. They are closer. There is one being alive who truly knows what darkness is. Has embraced it, welcomed it, even accepted it into his being. He could hardly do otherwise. For longer than any normal man could imagine, he has lain alone, in a clay coffin the precise size and dimensions of his body. For an eternity he has been held in stasis, as the rigid slate around him prevented him from moving; even prevented him from breathing. Not that, to this being, being prevented from breathing was anything more than an annoyance. His ancient heart still beat strongly, exactly as strongly as it had for thousands of years, pumping blood with no oxygen around his body. His muscles had not atrophied, nor would they, no matter how long he remained trapped in the eternal darkness. One thing, and one thing alone allowed this being to focus his mind, to keep the hounds of insanity at bay. Hatred. And with it, a deep, smouldering desire for revenge. Suddenly, like the birth of a star, the earth shuddered, and the darkness finally broke. The bright yellow vehicle drew to a halt outside an antiques store on Hudson Street.
[Show full text]