Shadow of the Dome of Pleasure

To many people, a shadow is like a second self. An alternate life force that reflects the very core of your being. If this is the case, Rick had a tortured soul.

It was second semester at Simian Sports College, and Rick was the new kid. He was just as good as the other guys, if not better, but man was he strange. I only ever saw him in one set of clothes, and his hair was always perfect. He had gold eyes, with touches of red and black around the outside, and his jovial face seemed always to be smiling.

Despite his seemingly happy features, his eyes had about them a sadness that was painful to witness. Most other people have black pupils in their eyes, but Rick’s, they were silver. At times they appeared to be glowing, and this seemed to sap his energy. It was as if they were almost … dead.

Anyway, it was Halloween (of all nights) and we (Rick and myself) decided to go to the theme park, better known as the incredible, fantastic, unthinkable, despicable horror that is The Dome of Pleasure, and on any Halloween night the place is packed and impossible to get into through such a queue. But tonight we had special tickets that let us push to the front of the line. We used them with an air of superiority that made me feel guilty.

Once inside we were offered cola, and directed to the main ride – The Phaxosm! This ride involved kids pulling on a V.R. suit and plunging into horrifying realms to face the terrors of the night. While moving to the ride entrance I happened to glance in Rick’s direction; I will never forget the haunted look I saw in those eyes for as long as I live.

As we pulled on our visors to our V.R. suits, the power tripped and everything went black. In my mind I had a strange vision of a tunnel with a fork, one path representing light, the other dark. With sound logical reasoning, I chose light.

The lights flickered for a second, but remained off. Everything was silent, and a chilled shiver ran up my neck as I toyed with the possibility of me being alone in the dark in this empty void that was The Phaxosm!

I glanced around as my eyes became accustomed to the dark, and it seemed myself and a few others were the only ones in the park. The first mountings of panic rose up in me, but I pushed them back with a force not to be reckoned with. When the lights returned, however, I was not alone. In fact, three others and myself were not alone. We were in a crowd, if you count the voices.

Blood! Blood! Blood! The demonic chanting filled my head and the icy hand of terror reached into my ribcage and clutched at my beating heart. Sweat dripped off the end of my nose, and before my eyes transformed into blood. I felt as if my legs could no longer hold me and swayed.

The only thing I could see was hundreds of Ricks, shadows as I have now come to call them, with those haunted golden eyes, craving the blood of the living.

I fell down on my back, and the shadows darted around above me. The others were out of my sight, but the blood curdling screams I could hear echoing into the night confirmed my greatest fears.

I looked on the ground next to me, and lying beside a stream of blood was a stray metal pipe. The safety of death that a pipe through the heart offered was far more comforting than the shadowy death that Rick’s tortured soul had in mind. I plunged the metal into my soul, and centuries passed before me as if I were but a pebble waiting for the End of Days. I could hear a bell ringing, and then all of a sudden I was at the entrance to The Phaxosm! I had a strange vision of a tunnel with a fork, one representing light, the other representing darkness. With a fear of the future unbeknownst to all others, I chose dark. I chose dark and hoped.