And so the Lights Went Out

Ten days ago, the sun set and never rose again. At first, people clung to normalcy, encouraged by the "Very Important People" on TV who promised this was temporary. They spoke with conviction, using soothing words like "extraplanetary interference." Some believed them. Others rioted, claiming "The End is Nigh." By the third day, the stars began to vanish. People called it the Stellar Eclipse, gathering in the streets to watch as constellations blinked out one by one. By the fifth day, televisions and the internet went dark, leaving only the crackling voice of radio announcers urging everyone to stay in the light. Then They came. No one knew who or what They were. People disappeared, swallowed by the shadows. Those who ventured outside rarely returned. As blackouts swept through the city, the radio went silent, leaving nothing but fear in its wake. In the fallout shelter beneath the town hall, four survivors remained. Supplies dwindled, and the generator faltered. They had heard whispers on the radio before it died: Fort Victor was safe. It was their last hope, but the journey would take them through the woods, across the river, and into the unknown.

The shelter was dimly lit by failing red emergency lights, casting long, uneasy shadows on the concrete walls. Tension was thick in the stale air. Dave Davis, a high school engineering teacher, had just fixed the generator for what might be the last time. "We’re not staying here," Dave announced, his voice as sharp as the spanner he held. "Fort Victor’s our only chance." Mabel, a nervous fifteen-year-old student, nodded hesitantly. Sergeant Gavin Maverick, dishonourably discharged and silently brooding, checked the magazine of his pistol. Steve, a high school dropout with a perpetual air of regret, muttered, "Better than starving down here - arsehole." They packed quickly: torches, the remaining cans of food, and water bottles. As the heavy metal door creaked open, the four stepped into the suffocating blackness outside. The bunker’s door was left ajar, its dim glow swallowed by the void.

Finding a car was a stroke of luck. Steve hotwired it with surprising ease, and soon they were speeding down the empty roads. But the petrol gauge hovered near empty, and they were forced to stop at a desolate petrol station. Inside, flickering lights illuminated shelves of abandoned goods. Mabel and Steve approached cautiously, peering through the grimy glass. Movement caught their eyes, a shadow slipping behind an aisle. "Hello?" Steve called out, his voice breaking the silence. No response. They stepped closer, but Dave’s shout from the car snapped them out of their trance. As the car pulled away, a figure emerged from the shadows inside the station - one of Them. The whites of its eyes glowed faintly, unblinking, following them into the darkness.

Their drive took them along a empty motorway, with abandonned cars littering the road. But the car’s journey ended abruptly when a jagged piece of debris shredded a tyre. Limping to a nearby Kwik-Fit, they found the garage eerily lit, shadows moving in the upstairs office. Despite the unease, they worked swiftly to replace the tyre. Gavin scavenged tools, while Steve and Dave wrestled with the jack. As they lowered the car, the jack failed, sending the vehicle crashing with a deafening clang. The shadows above stopped moving - then darted across the office. Gavin, unaware of the commotion, froze as thudding footsteps pounded down the stairwell toward him. Gripping a tyre iron, he bolted, leaving the others behind. The group scrambled into the car. One of Them burst from the shadows, smashing into the windscreen. Dave swerved violently, shaking it loose before speeding off into the night.

With Fort Victor almost in sight, Mabel pleaded to check on her family as her family home wasn't too far. Against Dave’s protests, Steve insisted they stop. The house was dark, the door unlocked. Inside, torchlight revealed overturned furniture and eerie silence. Upstairs, something stirred. A figure charged down the stairs, a monstrous silhouette with eyes that gleamed like the void. Screaming, they fled, but not before more of Them emerged from the shadows, pouring from alleys and doorways. Dave floored the accelerator, hitting one of Them with a sickening thud, refusing to look back.

Fort Victor loomed ahead, a bastion of light surrounded by a chain-link fence. Armed soldiers waved them through. Inside, the facility bustled with survivors and military personnel. Relief was fleeting. Within the next hour, Gavin arrived - beaten and by motorbike, but at least he was back with the group. While exploring, Dave stumbled upon a room with a working computer. A personnel file glowed on the screen, Dave explored what else was on the machine, finding numerous other files. Among them were dossiers on their group, complete with photos and personal details. Panic rose as he read through the impossible - how did they have all this information, and why. He shut down the machine, and headed back to warn the others. Before he could, the lights flickered, and a scream echoed through the halls.

Glass shattered. They flooded in.

Dave was engulfed first, his cries silenced by the swarm. Mabel hid in a supply closet, but the door was no match for Them. Gavin and Steve stood back-to-back, firing into the shadows. Gavin tripped, his weapon discharging into his own skull. Steve, bloodied and desperate, dove through a window into the car park. He ran for the fence, his hands shredded by the chains as he climbed. As he reached the top, cold hands dragged him back into the darkness. His screams were lost in the void. Fort Victor’s lights flickered, then failed entirely.

The last beacon of hope was swallowed by the endless night, leaving only silence - and Them.