Keeping Her in the Light
First there was darkness…
A seemingly typical young woman wakes up to find herself in the dark. She does not know how she got there; she does not know why she is there. She feels for a light switch, thinking the light will ease her tension—thinking the light will make things better.
Then there was light.
Death is only an instant. What she sees in the once white room is way past death itself. Realization sets in. The answers to the “how” and the “why” cease to be vague, and it is made clear that escape is out of the question. For a puzzling madman holds her captive, and only he can provide her with her freedom. Only he can grant it because only he has the key.
Now there is only a decision.
He will kill her only if she is able to prove the existence of a certain syndrome. In the meantime, he settles for torture. Escape is not possible, and there are only two different ways of ending this madman’s reign: Kill him or stay alive.
Staying alive requires tolerance to pain and despair. It asks of her a precise resistance to a syndrome–one she knows nothing about. If she doesn’t die, he doesn’t search for his next victim. If she doesn’t die, no one else has to.
Killing him vanquishes all hopes of freedom, for the key will die with him. Killing is just another form of murder. Murder will make her the one monster she swore she would never be: The same beast responsible for building a definite barrier on the line that divides past from present to possible future. One who has silenced her past forever.