003 -- Light

There must be some light left… somewhere…

Spectre paced the beach once more when the final rays of sun sunk below the horizon. Another day had gone by, adding to the thousands of others that slipped through his fingers, reminding him of her. It was all his fault, and he knew it. If only he had listened to her. If only he had stayed. If only…

For centuries he had waited on the shores of purgatory, longing for the white light which never came. Yet, he was promised it; when he could fulfil his tasks of redemption. As the days passed, he began to realize that no matter how many he was able to complete, the light never came. There were times he began to wonder if it was only a myth, or if the light had vanished long ago. Perhaps he was too late.

As he stared out at the waves, pondering, memories of his old life flashed in his head. The nights he and Elizabeth would dance on the shores beneath the stars, the night of their wedding, and even the night he left her for his final voyage. The voyage from which he never returned. If there was any light left, he thought to himself as he carefully eyed the horizon, perhaps it's just hidden within memory. After all, Elizabeth had always been his light, his beacon calling him home after his voyages out to sea. Now he was just waiting on his next call.

Sometimes, one must voyage into the darkness to find the light.


There must be some light left… somewhere…

Diedrich made his way through the rubble, searching for any survivors. The tilia trees still smouldered, Unter den Linden's splendour lost in the bombing. All around him he could hear the cries of children separated from their mothers, sirens soon joining in and blending the calls together. He wasn't sure what was worse; the ringing in his ears or the wound that still steadily poured blood from his chest.

It wasn't always like this. Berlin was once the glory of Germany, covered in sunlight. Only a few summers before, he and Annemarie walked down the streets together, holding hands and laughing. There was a light then. It smiled down upon the entire Reich, bringing the nation out of the ashes. Yet, now, it was to the ashes that they were returning.

Diedrich stumbled on a piece of concrete, falling to his knees as he winced, his vision blurred from the light-headedness that was overtaking him. It was then that it struck him, the future of his nation. Slowly, steadily, it was getting back what it had given for years to its innocent victims. And now, it had fallen so deeply into darkness that even Diedrich wasn't certain they would ever pull out. What would history say? What would become of his children? Grandchildren? He lowered his head. No amount of begging for forgiveness would ever cleanse the hands of the nation. This blood was permanent.

Glancing up to the sky as another roar shook the city from above, Diedrich tried to blink the tears away. Fritz had been right. If the war was lost, the blame and shame would forever be placed upon the shoulders of the nation, never forgiven by the rest of the world; and if the war was won, the Reich would simply burn the world to the ground. But it wasn't the world that was burning. It was Berlin. And now, the only hope left for its people was to beg. Beg for forgiveness.

And perhaps one day, that light will shine again…


There must be some light left… somewhere…

Daniel pulled the curtains back once more, holding his breath and praying that the sun would blind him. Nevertheless, there was nothing. Nothing but the blackness painting the world beyond his window. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen the light.

As he stumbled through the halls, shadows preying on him, he began to wonder how much of this was his fault. He could hardly remember how he had gotten here, let alone understand what this place was. It was a fortress of darkness and solitude, he reminded himself, a place that was hidden in the back of his mind that slowly came alive the more he drank his way to insanity. And now, he had been swallowed up by it.

There were times he stopped, simply to scream "wake up!", hoping that he would hear himself and be driven from the nightmare. But the walls were sound proof and Daniel found the only response to his cries were tears. He should have paid more attention to her. He should have told her he loved her. Life is short, his head raced as he frantically paced the halls; he should have known his better than anyone.

Again, he stood by the window, holding his breath. This was his world, his own creation. Everything there was what he saw, what he dreamed. Therefore, he thought as his fingers stroked the velvet curtains shielding the outside, shouldn't everything he imagines be true? Perhaps it was that he was afraid that there was no light beyond the window. Perhaps his mind had feared that there was only darkness, and thus that's what the world gave him. Daniel's grasp on the curtain tightened as he choked a breath. Or perhaps, there simply was no light left in him.

When the day comes that I'm dragged to the darkness, I won't need to be afraid…

You will be my light.