Dark World

A world where emotions are practically non-existent. Where love only exists amongst families. Where schools double as military camps. Where beauty is ignored and stupidity is scorned. Where the most common emotion is indifference.
That is my life. The stupid students in my school always end up dead in the arena. The clever ones. We watch, and learn how to fight.
No one has emotions. Until any of us are given a mate, we cannot love. We cannot hate. We have no jealousy, no envy.
At least, we’re not meant to.
Then there’s me. Cursed with all the emotions that you humans have, and spared by my parents.
I am Demorus, and I am an unwanted light in this Dark World.


2. My Average Day - Waking Up

My average day? You want to hear about my average day?

Very well. I shall tell you. Yesterday was an average day, so I'll tell you about that.


I woke up, and opened my curtains. Golden light filled my black-walled room. It took my eyes a moment to adjust, and I sighed as they did. Today was a normal day. Everyone was still emotionless. Everyone except me.

"Demorus!" called my father. It wasn't an angry call. He was incapable of anger. It was just a normal call because he knew I was awake. "Come downstairs and eat your breakfast! School today!"

I sighed again. Breakfast. Hooray. The same brown, bland food I'd eaten all my life. No taste. Just the essential vitamins and minerals any Darkeri needed.

We don't need taste. We're emotionless. We cannot feel joy from eating a tasty meal. Well, I can I suppose, but no one else.

I opened my wardrobe. It was a plain thing. Even though I liked colour, we had to make my room similar to all others. Just in case we had guests. We didn't want to be ratted out.

So there I was, in front of my wardrobe, removing that same black jumpsuit everyone wore. The same black boots everyone wore. The same wristwatch everyone wore.

Boring, I say. Boring! But no one else has any concept of boredom. Only me!

So, wearing my very plain clothes...uniform, I made my way down the stairs and into the white-walled kitchen. Kitchen and bathrooms are the only rooms with white walls. All others have black walls. Like the living room. The classrooms at school.

The arenas are grey, though. That's because they are made of concrete, not polymers, though.

"Morning, son," said my mother. No warmth to it. Just the usual monotonous voice of our world.

"Morning," I replied, forcing myself not to say "Good." It was just morning. No good to it. Not here. Not anywhere.

"Breakfast?" she asked, as I sat down.

I looked at her. Short black hair. Slim features. Red eyes. The average Darkeri woman.

Then there was my father. Tall. Muscular. Very short black hair. Red eyes. No beard, just a moustache. An above-average Darkeri. A teacher, too. But not at my school. He taught at the University. I was still in my first year of High School.

"Demorus," my mother said, holding a bowl of brown...stuff.

I have no idea what's in it, but I still eat it. And that's what I did. I took the bowl from my mother, set it down on the table, and ate. I felt like I was eating nothing. That's how tasteless it was.

Once I'd finished it, she washed it.

"No emotions today," my father said, addressing me in that same, monotonous voice. "As every day, no emotions. I don't want to be forced to kill you."

He said it so simply, like it was something trivial. Not killing his only son. His only child, for that matter. He said it like it was something that happened all the time.

And it didn't. Not exactly. Not to us, directly, anyway.

But the arenas. That's where the killing took place.

Which reminded me. We were watching fights again that day. As usual.

"Dad," I said.


"Would you kill me?"

He paused. That was his one emotion playing. His love. "Yes," he said, finally. "If I have to kill you, I'll kill you."

"Even though I'm your son?"

He paused again. "Yes."


"Yes." There was no pause that time. That chilled me.

"School," said my mother. "The bus is outside. Now go."

She seemed to express some emotion. Maybe that's where I get it from.

But, as usual, I picked up my school bag and left the house, heading for the bus.

That same, black bus I got on every day.

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