Shattered Light

So, consider this a vignette more than anything else. Had an idea for this character (sort of a weird amalgamation of the gimp from Pulp Fiction, Professor X from Logan, and blindfolded characters from The Binding of Isaac, oddly enough) and wanted to do something with it, and wrote this little establishing scene thing. Maybe The Blindfolded Man will show up in City Intersection (at least, maybe in a future revision?), maybe in something later on.

(The name of Szigmond Körter comes from a stop on the BKK metro. Just writing it from memory, it might be a bit off but I’ll fix it. I just thought it was a cool sounding name.)

edit: I forgot music! This is one of the two tracks that I worked with for the final project of the Music Appreciation class I took a few months back.


They opened the doors and stayed there. I hesitated a moment, thinking that they would lead me in, but the one on the left made a curt gesture with his hand, signaling me to enter.
It was white. It was bright. The white floor and lights that covered the ceiling in a homogeneous spread were one thing, but then there were the walls. Walls made of mirrors, but mirrors that had been purposefully cut and arranged in hexagonal patterns, leading to a mesmerizing repeated pattern that caught the eye. Caught the eye enough to distract away from the one thing – aside from myself – within the room.
Well, two things, technically, but if you wanted to start dividing objects you could always go further, organs from organs, atoms from atoms, and so on. All that to say that there were two things that combined to make one thing.
A pure-white Lay-z-boy and a boy – a man? maybe even a prepubescent girl? – sitting in it. As I approached their features sharpened and I could make a better guess that he was a young man. Maybe even not that young of a man, just skin kept pristine from an entire life of seclusion.
His skin was pale, the kind of pale reserved for death and folklore but his straight black hair made a dramatic contrast with everything else in the room. His clothing was unusual, giving off a vibe of traditional Chinese clothing, although it would seem out of place.
Tied tightly around his eyes was a red cloth, the only other color present in the room before my entrance.
“Mr. Körter?” he said, his voice faint and high.
I didn’t respond. I was not the man he was asking for, although I knew who he was. I was the man who had been called by Mr. Szigmond Körter.
I walked toward him, the only sound in the room the regular tap of my shoes on the bleached floor. Despite my non-responsiveness, he did not seem to be concerned at all. Perhaps it was common enough for him to have silent visitors. I hoped not. I would need to take that up with Szigmond if so.
I stopped directly in front of him. He reclined in the puffy chair and made no response, although he knew I was there.
“Lean forward,” I told him.
He did so immediately without question or even any sort of change in facial expression. I reached in back of his head, took hold of the knot in the red cloth, and began prying it apart. Once it was undone, I held it there, for a moment, then looked behind me and nodded to the two people at the doors. They understood my message and closed the doors, completing the wall of segmented mirrors. I pulled the cloth away.
We often take light’s existence for granted. We know when an area is lit up or not, but we rarely notice the light itself, just the light’s reflection upon objects. We get a taste of it once in a while, as with sunbeams coming through into a dusty room or a laser pointer, but these are the minority.
For a split second I saw the light. All of the light. I saw it as a solid mass filling the room, reflecting off the walls once, twice, three times, and finally scattering due to inaccuracies in the mirror’s production or chance collisions with air molecules.
Then it shattered. The shattering was not immediate and thorough, it had a discernible origin, at least in the momentary bullet-time I was set in. The shattering started with the man’s now-revealed eyes.
Imagine for me, if you would, an entire room filled with the purest of the pure water. Now imagine this room frozen, lifted out of its surroundings, and thrown onto cement. This is approximately the effect his eyes had upon this room.
But then it stopped. Well, perhaps not completely stopped, I was sure that there were still tiny pieces of light that were being broken up into smaller and smaller pieces, but it was all now imperceptible to my eyes. As far as I could tell, all light had been turned into the finest of dust and now hung about the room in a thick cloud.
I looked at his eyes. Had his eyelids been closed, they would’ve seemed normal: normal size, not strangely lumped or anything, spaced normally. But instead of the standard white-iris-pupil of a human’s eye, his eyes were all irises and pupils. Pupils dotted his eyes and, instead of its standard circumventory path, his pale-blue iris simply filled up the gaps between pupils.
I glanced at his reflection in the mirrors and his pupils were only multiplied, quickly becoming no longer a human eye but something else that went beyond sight or light or vision, something that just saw and twisted the world around its perception of the world itself.
I realized that a tenseness had been developing in the room ever since the uncovering of his eyes, which was now reaching a fever pitch. It was as though the room – no, space itself – was screaming from this contortion, begging for normality to be restored. I looked around the room once more, looked again into his eyes – deep, this time, trying to get a sense of the person behind them, and failing in that attempt – then wrapped the cloth around his eyes and tied a tight knot in it at the back of his head.
The moment his vision was darkened everything became normal once more, so abruptly that it felt like being woken out of a dream. The man still made no response. I turned around and began tap-tapping my way to the other end of the room, taking a last look at the mirrors. I lightly rapped my knuckles on the closed doors and they were opened a moment later by the same two people. I stepped out of the room, they shut the doors once more, and I smiled.


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