The lamp wouldn't turn on. Lucy shifted, humping herself up on the mattress to look at the actual location of the light, fingers searching to see if, perhaps, she just hadn't hit the right button. But it was still there. The cheap lamp she had bought with her sister at Target while decorating the apartment she hadn't wanted to get.

"Unf," Lucy muttered under her breath. Light bulbs. She had no clue where light bulbs were. Forcing herself up, she headed out of her room and into the bathroom, flicking on the light there. But still, there was no light.

Yet... Lucy blinked and frowned. It was darker then the normal light in the city. It was pitch black, not the dim blue light of passing cars and street lights, light pollution hanging over the city.

This was pure black, the black of shadows. And she could see. Lucy lifted her hand up in front of her face and started back when she saw, like a glove over her hand, that it was now this same pitch black.

"Oh no," she whispered and the sound was strangely muffled in her ears now she was paying attention. She looked around, feeling suddenly trapped, unable to breathe, and came to a stand still.

It wasn't that the lights weren't working, it was that the shadows had become a part of her. She was a shadow.

Panic, followed by a moment of thought and then Lucy sat down and tried to not be a shadow, to be herself again. But nothing seemed to work. And when the sun came up, she remained, a dark spot in her bright apartment. With no hope of escape.