Stanley And The Dark Blade

Excellence Award in the 'Write As Rain 2014' competition

Sweat beaded on his arms as Stanley worked. ‘Up down up down,’ went the rhythm in his head. He’d been working for hours, grinding the hard stone over the rod. It was by pure luck that he’d found the stone in the first place, the Mirruums had rid the world of weapons that could harm humans, or anything of dark colour that could absorb them. The invaders spent six months traipsing across the globe removing any mean of escape for the humans, whether it was by an uprising, or suicide. For seven years they’d been forced to build gigantic glass structures, monuments for their masters, the Mirruum. Stanley had been working in secret for weeks, using the time between shifts for his purposes. ‘Up down up down,’ went his arms, but his mind was elsewhere. As he worked, Stanley remembered the day, so long ago, when the world changed. The day the Mirruums came. No one expected an attack from another dimension, let alone their own reflections. Screams racked the world as people were attacked by the persons from the mirrors, alike in every detail except for one way that made them so invincible. The Mirruums, as they called themselves, were made of light. Nothing could hurt them, and they burned anything black that could absorb them. For the first time in human history, every reflective surface on Earth shattered as the invaders came, the ultimate proof that if you break a mirror you get seven years of bad luck. But all was not lost, for Stanley had discovered a way to stop the Mirruums once and for all.

Now finished sharpening, Stanley smiled, for in his hand he held an obsidian sword. The dark glass had been tempered by the massive heat of the volcano from which it had been formed, so was impervious to the Mirruum’s melting beams of light. The blade was of the deepest black so would absorb as many Mirruums as it touched, none would be safe. Tomorrow marked 7 years since invasion and it would also be the beginning to the longest campaign in human history as Stanley and the sword of darkness challenged the light that had enslaved the world. Whether he seemed to be winning, or had no chance at all, Stanley could continue. In his hand was a chance at redemption.

In his hand was hope.

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