Chapter 210

In the small town of Brackenville, the lights began appearing without warning. At first, it seemed like nothing more than a flicker—some faulty wiring, maybe. But then, they started showing up every night. Bright, unnatural lights, glimmering through the windows of unsuspecting homes. They didn't shine like any light they'd ever seen. They were harsh, blinding, and they had a coldness to them, a sickly glow that made people uneasy just by being in their presence.

Amelia had noticed them first. It was a Tuesday night when she saw the first light outside her window. She thought she was dreaming at first, half-waking from her sleep, only to rub her eyes and see the light still hanging there, like a fixed star in the night sky. At first, it seemed distant, far away, but as the minutes passed, she noticed it drawing closer. It hovered just outside her house, above the trees, not moving, not shifting.

And then, just as abruptly, it was gone.

She tried to convince herself that she had imagined it. The lights, the strange flicker in the air. But when she woke up the next morning, the real horror began. She walked through the house, checking on everything as usual, only to find her husband, Andrew, sitting motionless at the kitchen table. His eyes were wide open, staring at nothing, frozen. His body was there, his limbs were intact, but there were no pupils. No irises. His eyes were gone, just empty sockets staring into the void.

Amelia's scream woke the neighbors, but it did little good. By the time they arrived, it was too late. Andrew's body was still sitting in that chair, his head tipped forward like a broken doll, but there was no life left in him. Just the hollow stare of those empty sockets.

People tried to chalk it up to some kind of freak accident, a rare disease that caused people's eyes to disintegrate or fall out. But when it happened again the next night, and again the night after that, the stories started to change. The lights appeared in more houses, always around the same time, always at night, always just before the people disappeared.

By the end of the week, half the town had been affected. Entire families vanished. Some were found in their homes, sitting in place, their bodies intact, but their eyes gone, empty and lifeless. Others weren't found at all. And with each new disappearance, the lights seemed to grow brighter, more intense, as if feeding off the terror that was spreading like wildfire.

The town was unraveling, but Amelia had no choice but to keep going. She couldn't leave; not without knowing the truth. What were these lights? What did they want?

Each night, the lights came. Amelia tried to stay awake, hoping to catch a glimpse of them, to understand them. She wanted to believe there was a reason. But the nights grew longer, and the lights, when they appeared, seemed to pull her into a deep, unspoken fear.

It was on the fifth night that Amelia felt the dread crawling up her spine, inch by inch. She was sitting in her living room, watching the window, waiting for them. And then it happened. The light. It appeared right outside her window again, just as it had before. Bright and menacing, more intense than it had ever been. She could hear it this time, a low, constant hum, vibrating in her bones. The hairs on her arms stood on end, and her heart pounded in her chest. She could feel something coming, something worse than she'd imagined.

And then, as if it had been waiting for her to notice, the light began to move. Slowly, imperceptibly, it shifted toward the house, toward her.

A knock sounded at the door.

Amelia froze. She didn't want to answer it. She knew who it was. She could feel it. The lights weren't just random. They were deliberate. They were coming for her.

The knock came again. Three times. Three knocks, like the clock ticking down to her death. She stood, her legs stiff and heavy, and approached the door. There was no escape. There was nothing left to do but face it.

When she opened the door, she saw nothing but the lights.

There was no person, no figure. Only the lights, floating in the air, casting an unnatural glow that seemed to eat up the darkness around it. The hum was louder now, a deep, resonating sound that filled her chest with fear. The light pulsated, thrumming in rhythm with her heartbeat. She couldn't look away, couldn't move, couldn't scream.

And then, like the breath being sucked out of her lungs, she felt it. A sharp pain in her chest. It wasn't physical, but it was worse. It was as if something inside her was being pulled apart, thread by thread. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. All she could do was stand there, staring into the light as it grew closer.

Her vision blurred. The last thing she saw was her own reflection in the glass door, her eyes wide open, full of terror. But then her eyes were gone. Just like that. The light had taken them, swallowed them whole, leaving nothing but the hollow void behind.

When Amelia awoke, she wasn't sure if she had died or if she was still alive. Her house was silent. Too silent. The lights were gone, but something else had replaced them—an eerie, oppressive quiet. She stumbled through the house, her hands outstretched in front of her, trying to feel her way through the dark.

It was only when she reached the hallway mirror that she realized the truth.

Her reflection was staring back at her.

Her face was there. Her hair, her skin. But her eyes were gone. Empty sockets stared at her from the mirror, just like Andrew's had. Her body was still hers, but she had lost the one part of herself that had made her human.

And in that moment, she understood.

She wasn't the first. She wouldn't be the last.

There were others, all of them, lost to the light. And there was no escape.

The light was coming for everyone. It always would. No matter how far they ran, no matter how much they tried to hide, it would always find them. It would always take their eyes, and they would become nothing but hollow shells, wandering through the world without seeing a thing.

Amelia collapsed to the floor, her hands clawing at her empty face, but there was no use. She couldn't undo it. She couldn't bring back what was gone. There was no one left to hear her scream, no one left to help her.

In the end, she was just like everyone else. The light had taken everything.

And now, she was nothing more than a body in a dark house, lost to the night.