A Dark Side of the Moon
A road twists off into the distance, disappearing promptly behind a great earthen mountain. The moonlight, cast down from our moon set deep against a cloud of milky stars, shatters the unearthly blackness of the setting. It bounces off the uneven tar coated surface, aided by a layer of dew given to settle over time. It had been a long time, a long whiles since anyone had ventured along this particular avenue and the place had settled into a mundane routine; a cycle of day and night, light and dark and hot and cold. This was one of the reasons the stretch remained so desolate; day would bring a violent burst of heat then disappear along with the light, a harsh and direct change. Night was the time when the whole arena came alive, the creatures that had taken shelter underneath the Earth, would once again rise to face another night.
This night however was unique; a long, low sound could be heard over the rise. It had been there for at least twenty minutes growing steadily louder; at most like the rumble of distant thunder clouds, deep and foreboding. Suddenly a second set of lights snaked out from behind the mountain, shattering the peaceful balance of light. They lit up the area with a force that sent the residents scattering in all directions; one took the wrong exit, hesitated for a second too long and ended up smacked between the light globes. They did not stop and no hint of hesitation could be seen. If anything, their pace had quickened.
Then, as suddenly as it had started, it finished; the lights were carried off into the distance, hidden for sometime behind the silhouette that carried them.
The land settled down once again and the dust, whipped up and ferocious, returned to the side of the road.
The vehicle did not stop as it carried on through the night piercing the silence as a scream through water. It turned off the main path and plunged onto a smaller dirt track, lurching forward as it struck the unfamiliar surface. The speed did not change and it reared its chrome head higher anticipating the disturbance.
For all that effort the beast had applied, it was cut away and the back tyres skidded. A cloud of dust trailed out from underneath the heated rubber as it failed to grip the loose surface; only for a second. The speed slowed and its anger ebbed away in a blur of dust until it stood resting silently.
As the dust was carried away with the silent wind over and behind the rise, a door of the vehicle opened, full and proud. The red serpent etched with the length of the car was severed, only for a second.
A figure moved along its side, running a rough finger tenderly through the dust on his vehicle. He whipped it carefully on his shirt then gingerly persuaded the boot open.
As the dust cleared, the lights fell on its contents, barred to some extent by shadow.
It was a bag and had it not been for the illumination, would have been unrecognisable.
He dragged it out onto the lip of the boot, then with a malicious push it fell sickly onto the hard ground. The dust floundered out from underneath.
Several hours passed as the man worked, aided by the heavy lights from his car. The bag lay just out of the lit circle, as though reluctant to be noticed again. Every now and then he glanced uneasily at it, whilst resting on his spade.
It was several hours later that the moon started to give in to the impending push of day and finally, after an hour more, it fell behind the burnt landscape once again.
The car was started and the engine kicked into life with a single turn. It bounced back onto the sealed road.
It was several months later, after the cycle of day and nights had repeated itself many times, when the police were called. It was many months after this that they arrived at the tiny speck in the endless sea of desert. They used long probes, aiming deep into the ground, and dogs armed with an acute sense of smell to locate the grim offering.
After, another few days, a man leaned carefully over the black bag as a harsh light splintered over his shoulder. He hooked his grey fringe over his spectacles, took a scalpel and methodically cut into the darkness. It was not a bag at all, but rather a large sheet of plastic wrapped over many times and fastened and sealed with thick electrical tape. The smell was repulsive and it made the man, a person who dealt with similar things each day, gag and back away. He returned only after a mask had been properly fixed to his face, to finish the job.
A body lay before him, rotting away in its putrid fluids that had collected in the bottom of its bandages. He rounded it in morbid fascination. It was a young girl and the black plastic was her regal stage curtain.
She peaked out from behind and surveyed the sea of people beyond with giddy anticipation. Her eyes lit up, wide in wonder and her heart, already hammering against her chest, kicked up to its next level sending an extra rush of blood to her mind. She pulled away alerted by a comforting hand on her shoulder and the curtain swirled back into its proper place.
After a few seconds, the music, which had been lingering in the background, would rise, the lights flair and the stage would open. Then and only then would she bound across the stage with all eyes watching.
He surveyed her eyes now, sunken deep into her head, rank and bloated with a cloudy fluid destroying all colour; there was no life left.
The crowd rose to their feet as the curtain closed, the applause rose to a deafening level rising to the moulded ceiling and she bowed, deep and long soaking up the admiration.
He lifted up her arm with covered fingers; it was stiff and unnaturally sticky. Over time the moisture had risen and fallen rotting the flesh inside to out and turning it to a sickly green hue.
After several hours had passed, the many hundreds of people had filtered out beyond the great double doors; the girl would sit in an empty chair at the centre of the theatre, her legs pressed up against her chest. The hundreds of empty positions looked at her and she gazed back, at least to the face that would have been seated previously. She looked up at the stage, caught herself recounting the positions marked out with white tape and looked away down at the floor.
The man in the white coat adjusted the light before making his first cut into the torso; it was the only place with still enough flesh. The scalpel parted the skin easily and he pulled it apart, carefully folding over itself each time.
She greeted her mother at the end of the hallway with a kiss and they strode together into the outside world with blood red carpet that stretched the length of the room.
It was only five minutes later, as they were exiting out of their parking space, that their car was struck by a large vehicle coming the opposite way. They were killed instantly; the bodies had to be shuffled to different ends of the city and the car removed in order to protect the confidential operation.
That night, over four hundred grams of cocaine made its way into the neighbouring country inside the bodywork of a car. It had a large snake beaten into the paintwork.
