© 2020 Logophile by Ashley Brooke Robbins 

The Dark Knight

September 7, 2017

 

 

 

Only 57 days until Halloween. Yay. So, this is a short story I wrote for a magazine but from the sounds of it, they aren't going to post it right away, so, I wanted to share it. 

 

 



The Dark Knight paces the ground under the tree which holds all life. Faint moonlight catches on their armor made of secrets and forthcoming's. “The truth shall set you free.” One once told them, but for the Knight, such a thing is… never to be true. Such an occurrence would require the human existence to accept all they can’t understand.

 

Ding, ding, ding. Echoes through the green hills. Like clockwork, the skies turn a mixture of orange, purple, and pink, to mimic a setting sun on Earth, and a leaf stands out from the vibrant ones. The graying one floats into their open palm. The dim life transforms into a man before the Knight. The dullness reflects in the man’s green eyes. Do I know you? The Knight pauses, certain they knew of this human known as Gilbert, before this. But, that can’t be. I’ve never been a life on the tree.

 

“Who are you? Where am I?” Gilbert frowns at his surroundings. If his life were over, it’s possible he’d be happy to see the paradise his conversed feet rest on, but such is not the case as of yet. He gulps, turning back to the Knight. “Where’s Sharon? Is she okay?”

 

Ah, Sharon. From Gilbert’s mind, the Knight sees a young red-headed woman full of life and his love, but he didn’t chase her as she ran out after another argument. It’s common for twins to argue a lot when they’re still settling in. It usually passes as the souls learn from one another, maturing in their own time. But in her case, she’s moving far away from him. She’ll find someone else, a soulmate, she’ll be happy but it won’t be the happiness the twins could’ve had. The Knight comes back to the sacred greenery they stand on.

 

Without a word, the Knight turns their hand over, palm facing the branches above them. From their flesh, into the empty air shows what this man will go back to if he proceeds with this future. He won’t be alone, which is what most humans fear. He’ll find a blonde girl who laughs at his jokes at first, shows him love but deep down she knows only of the anger she found when she was a child. She yells at him, puts blame on him for everything. And he, the dedicated one, stays because his heart doesn’t want to be alone. In the end, he’ll come home to find an empty house. He’s left with the loneliness he felt since he said, “I do”.

 

“What does this mean?” his voice cracks in desperation, “What are you trying to tell me?”
The scene changes to what life could be. Him and Sharon are at home, there’s a Christmas tree behind them and she is down on one knee in front of him asking for his hand. The tree disappears as the season changes, and they’re in front of a laptop discussing something. Smiles take over their faces. The surroundings change to a crowd and the view changes to the duo on stage giving a presentation. When she steps out from behind the podium, her stomach is more pronounced, as if there’s a little one in there. As the crowd applauds, they glance at one another and the love pours from them.

 

There’s a flash and he’s talking to someone in a white lab coat whose giving shots to humans, and Sharon walks over carrying their bundled-up baby girl. The last scene that plays is the duo sitting on a front porch, rocking in wooden rocking chairs, sipping on sweet tea. They’re quite aged and he reaches over for her hand, she squeezes.

 

The Knight closes his pale palm and they face one another. “Do not let her get away. Go after her or prepare to embrace your life of misery.” Their voice seemingly causes the surrounding hills to shake with the power of truth.

 

Gilbert’s mouth sets in determination and to the untrained eye, he vanishes. But the Knight caught a glimpse of him shifting to the now green and yellow leaf and going back to his world where he’s chasing his love.

 

Smack, smack, smack. ‘Tis the sound of slow clapping from a fellow comrade. A man covered in shadows steps out from behind the tree, his footfalls not making a sound. How could Death make an intentional noise?

 

“I would’ve just killed him.” The smirk he’s wearing is an indication of sarcasm.
“I’m sure you would have, Sir Ghost of Hope.” The Knight begins pacing once more as the sky shifts back to the darkness they most enjoy.

 

“Do you ever tire of this?”

 

This gives the Knight pause. “Of what do you speak of?”

 

“Being the Dark Knight of Truth?” Hope steps forward, like this fact is of most importance to him. “Of speaking what others are too afraid of?”

 

They glance up to the lives hanging above. “If not me, who would do this? I do not experience human emotions, therefore, I feel no remorse for doing what needs to be done to attempt to save these blinded beings from their own ill will.”

 

He nods and shrugs. “They’re all going to die anyway from their own hand.”

 

“We shall see.” 

 

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I do apologize if there's any random letters/numbers. My kitten, OJ (Orange Juice) wants to let you know these things*/-+.  Hope you enjoyed!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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