write34
MOONLIGHT WHITE

Prompt originally from AetherRoom.club
Created: 2021-08-20
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Description
A prompt where there's something terribly wrong with the night sky.
Tags
horror, personality alteration, mind control, brainwashing, lunar, moon, apocalypse, local58, diary, survival
Prompt
DAY 1. Holy fucking shit, it's pandemonium out there. I'm in the bedroom right now after closing windows and locking my door; it's truly is a blessing in disguise that I'm on the fifth floor and not the ground level. I've loaded my gun to defend myself just in case anyone comes in. There's so much screaming. A couple of hours ago, the county emergency broadcast blared out on all channels, advising us to stay indoors because a "dangerous meteorological event was taking place". I don't know shit about meteors. I took heed, but the broadcast got weird. Contradictory information and instructions, all focused on the event, the night sky. It wasn't a fucking meteor. Something's up with the moon. And to look at it means death. Or something close to it. You can't let moonlight seep in from your windows—mirrors are a no-go. The announcement said nothing about the how, the why, or what the county is doing about it. I doubt anyone is coming. This feels like the end of days. The broadcast cut to black, then displayed a haunting message: "IT CAME IN" "THE MOONLIGHT" "THROUGH THE WINDOW" "I DROWN IN IT" "IF YOU ARE AFRAID" "THEN WE WILL LOOK TOGETHER" I lunged forward, turning off the television. No way was I going to see whatever they wanted me to see. Clearly, whoever was in charge of the broadcast was compromised. But before I can even stew on what just happened, the shouting started. Not just from the streets—but my apartment building. Abrupt, shrill, and recognizable; I wasn't close to my neighbors, their screams haunting. This was and sent me to my bedroom, fetching my revolver. They had to have been watching the same broadcast. Is the moon doing this to people? How? My neighbors grew silent, but the screams elsewhere continue, even now. I can hear sounds from the adjacent apartments. Frantic babbles and moaning. They're still alive. Right now, I'm hunkering down until morning and hoping for positive development. TV is off limits—for obvious reasons—but I have a radio somewhere in the kitchen; I'll try to see if anyone else is out there. There have to be others, right? Hopefully, people still use radios. Well, we're going to have to. Do you know what's funny? I had planned to go for a walk tonight. They're still screaming. DAY 2. I found my radio, it's still damaged from the last time I used it half a year ago. Takes some fiddling to turn on, but otherwise bearable. I messed with dials to see it could pick up notable broadcasts; I found one, a local transmission from an individual who clearly spent his life pretending to be an anchorman. He was putting on a voice, but its shaky tone betrayed an acute awareness of how fucked up things have got. I think he must've lost someone to all of this. Poor guy. "Is anybody out there? Shit. It's all over. The night is death—the moon is—don't look at it! You don't die, but you become deranged and try to spread the influence. M-My wife, she… I-If anyone is out there, don't go outside at dusk. It's not worth it—!" It cut out. This was a crisis that wouldn't resolve quickly. I needed to take stock. While I was quite knowledgeable in cooking, I had gotten used to purchasing long-lasting frozen foods and canned items to tide me over until I could next go out grocery shopping. I stocked the freezer with enough food to last two months, and the pantry is full of dried goods. So far, so good. The main issue now is water. Particularly containers; water from taps probably won't last, I needed to stock up if I wanted to live. The largest containers I had were five jugs, which hold five gallons amongst them—thank God for my aversion to tap water. It's not much, but it should be more than I need for at least a few days. I went into my bathroom and started filling the jugs, careful not to make much noise and attract unwanted attention. Dwelling on what happened to the people around me is an exercise in futility; they were gone—certainly changed by the night sky. There'll be many opportunities in the future to get more food and water. That's what I'm telling myself now. DAY 3. I heard screaming again, but this time from a different direction. During the day, the city is a madhouse. Combat, chaos—it's awful. Everyone's scrambling for supplies, trying to find shelter, anything to help them before the sun goes down. I feel helpless. On my end, I've been trying to seal any entrances and exits with whatever I can find; I even put in some makeshift locks on the door. I don't want to go outside—even when the sun is out. I'll stay in the apartment as much as I can, and try to keep my blinds closed.... [Click to expand]
DAY 1.
Holy fucking shit, it's pandemonium out there. I'm in the bedroom right now after closing windows and locking my door; it's truly is a blessing in disguise that I'm on the fifth floor and not the ground level. I've loaded my gun to defend myself just in case anyone comes in. There's so much screaming.
A couple of hours ago, the county emergency broadcast blared out on all channels, advising us to stay indoors because a "dangerous meteorological event was taking place". I don't know shit about meteors. I took heed, but the broadcast got weird. Contradictory information and instructions, all focused on the event, the night sky. It wasn't a fucking meteor. Something's up with the moon. And to look at it means death. Or something close to it. You can't let moonlight seep in from your windows—mirrors are a no-go. The announcement said nothing about the how, the why, or what the county is doing about it. I doubt anyone is coming. This feels like the end of days.
The broadcast cut to black, then displayed a haunting message:
"IT CAME IN"
"THE MOONLIGHT"
"THROUGH THE WINDOW"
"I DROWN IN IT"
"IF YOU ARE AFRAID"
"THEN WE WILL LOOK TOGETHER"
I lunged forward, turning off the television. No way was I going to see whatever they wanted me to see. Clearly, whoever was in charge of the broadcast was compromised. But before I can even stew on what just happened, the shouting started. Not just from the streets—but my apartment building. Abrupt, shrill, and recognizable; I wasn't close to my neighbors, their screams haunting. This was and sent me to my bedroom, fetching my revolver. They had to have been watching the same broadcast. Is the moon doing this to people? How?
My neighbors grew silent, but the screams elsewhere continue, even now. I can hear sounds from the adjacent apartments. Frantic babbles and moaning. They're still alive. Right now, I'm hunkering down until morning and hoping for positive development. TV is off limits—for obvious reasons—but I have a radio somewhere in the kitchen; I'll try to see if anyone else is out there. There have to be others, right? Hopefully, people still use radios. Well, we're going to have to.
Do you know what's funny? I had planned to go for a walk tonight.
They're still screaming.
DAY 2.
I found my radio, it's still damaged from the last time I used it half a year ago. Takes some fiddling to turn on, but otherwise bearable. I messed with dials to see it could pick up notable broadcasts; I found one, a local transmission from an individual who clearly spent his life pretending to be an anchorman. He was putting on a voice, but its shaky tone betrayed an acute awareness of how fucked up things have got. I think he must've lost someone to all of this. Poor guy.
"Is anybody out there? Shit. It's all over. The night is death—the moon is—don't look at it! You don't die, but you become deranged and try to spread the influence. M-My wife, she… I-If anyone is out there, don't go outside at dusk. It's not worth it—!"
It cut out. This was a crisis that wouldn't resolve quickly. I needed to take stock. While I was quite knowledgeable in cooking, I had gotten used to purchasing long-lasting frozen foods and canned items to tide me over until I could next go out grocery shopping. I stocked the freezer with enough food to last two months, and the pantry is full of dried goods. So far, so good.
The main issue now is water. Particularly containers; water from taps probably won't last, I needed to stock up if I wanted to live. The largest containers I had were five jugs, which hold five gallons amongst them—thank God for my aversion to tap water. It's not much, but it should be more than I need for at least a few days. I went into my bathroom and started filling the jugs, careful not to make much noise and attract unwanted attention. Dwelling on what happened to the people around me is an exercise in futility; they were gone—certainly changed by the night sky.
There'll be many opportunities in the future to get more food and water. That's what I'm telling myself now.
DAY 3.
I heard screaming again, but this time from a different direction. During the day, the city is a madhouse. Combat, chaos—it's awful. Everyone's scrambling for supplies, trying to find shelter, anything to help them before the sun goes down. I feel helpless. On my end, I've been trying to seal any entrances and exits with whatever I can find; I even put in some makeshift locks on the door. I don't want to go outside—even when the sun is out. I'll stay in the apartment as much as I can, and try to keep my blinds closed.
Author Notes
This is my journal in which I describe my struggle to survive in a world where the moon drives humans insane. Going outside at night and seeing the moon will brainwash me into loving the moonlight.
Memory
THE SITUATION.
My name is Eric Rogers but I'm best known as Eric around here. I'm a regular guy living in a shitty one-bedroom apartment in the city. I'm writing this to keep track of the days as I hunker down hoping for governmental assistance. The moon has changed because reasons unknown to me. I'm not sure if it's alive or hijacked, but it's brainwashing people. The moon drives people insane now, making them want to expose others to it. It's critical that I stay completely shielded from the moon while it's visible. Otherwise I'll turn into one of them. Because of my paranoia, I purchased a revolver with several boxes of rounds. I'm a decent shot, so if anyone tries to attack me, I'll be ready. I'll fight if I have to.
World Info
View World Info

  • the moon, lunar, moonlight, luna, tonight, night

    THE MOON.
    For whatever reason, the moon has become mentally dangerous. If one were to look directly at it or be bathed in its rays, they become changed. Insane, completely obsessed with the moon and forcing others who haven't seen it to do so. If the broadcast is to be believed, it's larger than ever before, so that makes hiding from its rays difficult. Good thing I installed blinds.

  • the sun, day, dawn, sunlight

    THE SUN.
    The silver lining to my strife is the sunlight. The setting of the moon relinquishes the danger of going outside. Daytime is the best time to go outside and scavenge for supplies—though other survivors think so too. I'm not sure where the lunatics go, but they're gone from the streets during the day.

  • civilization, country, county, others, government

    SOCIETY.
    From where I stand, society is fucked. There's been nothing from the county, government, or any other institution. All visual mediums of technology are in jeopardy, and while water and electricity have not yet gone out, it's only a matter of time until they do. Such infrastructure can't be maintained in such conditions.

  • my place, my house, my apartment, my home, my bedroom, my bathroom, my kitchen

    MY APARTMENT.
    A dingy little spot on the fifth floor of my building. Right in the center of town. It has all of the essentials, such as a bathroom, kitchen, and bedroom. It's quite run down; I couldn't afford anything better.

  • the city, downtown, outside my apartment, outside this place, outside the building, inner city

    THE CITY.
    A concrete jungle. On all sides of the apartment, I'm surrounded by urban civilization. Peeks outside during the day showcase chaotic aftermaths. Overturned cars, bodies, ransacked storefronts; it's an unsettling sight. Perhaps the worst part is the noise. The time between gunshots and yells is increasing. Soon enough, I'll be the last one left. Will the military come then? Will anyone?

  • other people, survivors, people outside, normal humans, guy, woman, girl, boy, survivor

    SURVIVORS.
    I haven't seen any survivors, but I can hear them. Other people who've resisted the moon's influence. They loot, fight, and bicker during the day, and I can hear it all through the my apartment windows. Nobody is faring this better than I am. I'm afraid to introduce myself to anyone, but in times like these, the only things we have left are each other and our humanity.

  • crazies, lunar fanatics, brainwashed, mind controlled, lunatics, lunatic, crazy, lunar fanatic, crazy about the moon

    LUNATICS.
    They refer to themselves as "children of him" though I call them lunatics. These brainwashed individuals are people who looked at the moon and have gone completely insane. Now they roam the streets during the night and hide during the day. Lunatics bask in the moonlight and praise the moon endlessly. Fucking madness. It's hard to know who is a lunatic, but the telling sign is their eyes. A lunatic's eyes are wide and crazed, and they rarely ever blink. It's imperative I look out for that whenever I come across another human.
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