Channel 541

2

"Is it worth the risk? Guy never was in his right mind. Why I married him I no longer know," she shook her head.

Amalie looked at the elder woman, "but maybe there was something beyond the risk?"

"How about stupidity and shame? That's behind all risk."

Amalie said nothing, figuring the statement was not worth debating.

Mildred's eyes betrayed a mix of emotions and for a few minutes she said nothing. Finally she spoke, "I once took the risk. Guy read some poetry to us. Me and the others with me that day. I say, the worst day it was. The things said."

"Was it worth the risk though?" Amalie asked, "the satisfaction of curiosity?"

Mildred shook her head harshly, "No. All it was was a waste of time."

"What was so bad about it?"

"Why, it even made me cry- the awfulness."

What Mildred had heard, Amalie did not know. But the curiosity grew.

And finally, she gave in.

Amalie had found the forbidden object in the secret alley. Every voice in her head- signs she read, voices she heard, words she spoke- warning her of the consequences and punishments of reading unfiltered words, but she ignored their disapproval.

---

She didn't flinch. She couldn't. Any noise that gave them a chance of finding her was out of the question. Her eyes flickered, trying to find light in the dark corner she hid in. Her lungs screamed, trying to breath. But she silenced herself.

Had Guy lived in fear of this?

Every moment trying to not be found out for the great crime?

Maybe it had been easier. For certain things could be read at the time. Comics and such, movies too.

Of course you could still read those things today. But everything had to be filtered. And books, they said, had too much to filter and must be banned altogether.

But why books? Did the people who write find it so freeing to write whatever they pleased?

Amalie stopped herself from thinking so dangerously. Who knew what ideas might spark from her curiosity?

Maybe Mildred was right.

There was too much to lose with risk.

The alarms seemed to grow louder every time.

She shuddered, feeling the eyes of the officials pouring into her. The footsteps suddenly stopped. And the alarm had gone silent.

The light in the room went dark.

A moment later, she noticed that a fire crackled next to her, brightening the dark room. But she prayed for darkness.

The fire rose and fell, one moment threatening to take over the room, and the next moment tame as a sleeping mouse.

It did not warm her, but only made her bones chilled. The fire suddenly grew twice its size. It began roaring, as if it was scaring its prey.

The blood from the prey disappeared as the prey turned brown then black then faded to specks and floated in the air.

In the light of the fire, a dark shadow appeared. It's black figure moved back and forth and then stood still. It grabbed the fire in its hand and looked at the remains of the prey. 

The darkness made no noise while moving, and soon even the fire had gone silent, it's flames dissolving just as it's prey had one done.

Then the voice loomed...

"It was a pleasure to burn."