Alice was never afraid of the dark.
Her parents never saw a night light on in her room; she slept in complete and utter darkness. She was not scared or unnerved by entering a darkened room; black did not frighten her. The thick blanket that descended each night was not suffocating and dangerous, but safe. She felt as if she was suspended in deepest space, wrapped in a net of caring velvet. It protected her. She could rest with her guardian, the essence of the night, watching over her. The darkness was her friend. The darkness was security. The darkness was a vital part of her life. Alice loved the darkness. Loved it with all of her odd little soul. Until the darkness, her darkness, sided with the demons.