Chapter 1 "Dark light" 

  Adam stumbled upon the peculiar lamp while scrolling through the endless sea of online auction listings. It was a curious find, a vintage desk lamp with a brass base and a green, glass shade that had an allure that spoke to him. The seller had described it as "a treasure from a forgotten era," and though the price was steep, the promise of its unique charm was too tempting to resist. It arrived in a dusty box with an aged, handwritten note that simply read, "Let the light guide your truth." Adam chuckled, dismissing it as a quirky seller's touch, and set it up in his home office. 

  The first few days with the lamp were uneventful. Adam enjoyed the warm, yellow glow it cast over his workspace as he diligently typed away at his computer. It created a cozy, nostalgic atmosphere that seemed to boost his productivity. His colleagues even complimented him on his brightened mood during video calls. But as the weeks passed, Adam began to notice something strange. His vision grew increasingly fuzzy, and his eyes felt perpetually strained, even after resting them. 

  During a particularly frustrating evening, when he could barely make out the text on his screen, Adam decided to take a break. He turned the lamp off. The sudden darkness was blinding, and he felt a sharp pain in his eyes, as if they were trying to adjust to a world that no longer made sense without the lamp's glow. Desperation grew within him. He had deadlines to meet and a life to live, so he returned to his desk, or was it his own thought, flipping the lamp switch with trembling fingers? 

  Adam's vision came back as the light poured back onto the desk. The screen's words became clear once more as the pain subsided. Putting it out of his mind, Adam assumed it was simply the result of his overwork today. But he knew he had to keep working, so he kept thinking about finishing his article a bit later that day so he could have more time for himself the following day. 

  The fifteen minutes eventually stretched into an hour. Then one hour became more and more. The warmth of the light gradually caused him to lose track of time as he worked until daybreak.

  As the sun rose that day, light spilled into his room through the open curtains. But when the room filled with sunlight, the bulb began to pulse with dazzling light. Adam's pupils got irritated, and his head began throbbing. He instinctively closed the blinds without a second thought. Adam's eyesight returned to normal, as the lamp was the sole light source once again. Adam looked at the clock, realizing how much time passed.  

“It’s really dawn? But I still feel energetic...” thought Adam to himself, now that he put some sense back into himself. Adam sat on his bed with fear, trying to grasp what is happening to him. Suddenly, his phone rang. It was his sister.  

"Hey, Adam. How are you? Mom said you didn’t call her yesterday. Everything’s okay?" 

"Asia, I'm fine. Just busy with work, you know." 

"Yeah, sure. But you sound different. Are you okay?” said his sister with a bit of concern. 

"Too much work yesterday; I guess I just didn't get enough sleep...“ 

“Hey, don’t be silly. Your health should be more important than that.” Asia always cared about his brother’s lifestyle. “How about I come over today? I’m in town with some spare time; I’ll cook you something so you can rest.” 

“Oh, that's lovely, but I don’t think you have to do all that...” —as he said that, he looked at the lamp that was sitting at his desk. He felt as if the lamp’s gaze was focused on him during that conversation. It made him feel uneasy—“I still have yesterday’s food in the fridge; I’m all good.” 

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"Okay, if you say so... but call Mom later today; she is begging to be nervous because of you working like a horse. Just take care.” 

  As she finished her sentence, something bugged Adam about the lamp. As he sat on the bed having the conversation, he felt the lamp’s bulb slowly turning to face him. His face went numb. The handwritten note from the seller echoed in his mind, "Let the light guide your truth." It dawned on him that the message wasn’t just a whimsical statement. It was a warning. He had been feeling more and more drawn to the lamp, and at this moment he finally realized his eyesight was inextricably linked to its power. 

“Hey, you still there?” Asia interrupted his thoughts. 

“Yeah... no, really, I’m good; I’ll call Mom later...” he finally muttered. 

“Well... if that’s what you want. You are really off. Just take care,” she said, hanging up right after. 

Adam sat in silence, the phone still in his hand, staring at the lamp. However, Asia said something he couldn't argue with: he desperately needed something to eat. He stood up and started walking towards the door. He grabbed the door handle and gently pulled it open, revealing a dark corridor. 

  As he turned on the light switch, his room's stark contrast with the hallway sent a jolt of pain through his eyes. The normal, white light from the ceiling bulb stabbed at him, and he felt his eyes water and burn. He slammed the door shut as he screamed in pain. His hands covered his face as he stumbled back to his desk.

  He tried again. This time, he opened the door, trying not to look at the brightly lit corridor, and quickly turned off the lights. He took a deep breath and stepped out of the room into the dark. The rest of the apartment was quiet, the only sound the distant murmur of traffic outside. He walked into the apartment darkness. Darkness, which he longed for after hours of lamps light.  

  But as he moved away from the lamp's glow, something strange happened. He heard a faint, almost imperceptible, whirring sound behind him. Adam froze mid-step, his heart hammering in his chest. He didn't dare to turn around, but his curiosity overpowered his fear. The sound grew louder, a mechanical whisper that seemed to resonate through the very air. Slowly, with a tremble that started in his fingertips and traveled up his spine, he craned his neck to look over his shoulder. 

  There, standing in the doorway of his office, was the lamp. The vintage desk lamp that he had thought to be his salvation was now pursuing him. The once warm, comforting light now felt like a prison, a cage of illumination that held him hostage. Adam took a step back, his eyes widening in horror. He felt like he was in a trance, his mind screaming for him to stop, but his body obeyed the lamp's silent order. The whirring grew louder as the lamp dragged itself back to the desk, and Adam followed, his eyes watering and his vision blurring from the pain. With each step, the pressure in his eyes grew until it was unbearable. 

 As he approached the desk, Adam felt the last remnants of his sanity slipping away. He knew he had to act. Summoning every ounce of strength he had, he reached out and unplugged the lamp from the wall. But his hand stopped just short of the power outlet. A wave of agony surged through him, as if the lamp was fighting back, sending jolts of electricity through his fingertips. He stumbled backward, his arm spasming with pain. The lamp remained unmoved, its light unwavering, demanding his compliance with even more bright light.

  Adam knew he couldn't resist much longer. With a deep breath, he forced himself to confront the lamp, his eyes streaming with tears. He reached out and touched the hot glass of the bulb, the heat searing his fingertips. The whirring grew louder, almost a scream, and the pain in his eyes became unbearable. He knew what he had to do. In a fit of desperation, Adam gouged his own eyes out.

  The lamp's green shade began to pulse with a sickening rhythm, and the room grew warm. Adam's eyeless sockets burned with a new intensity, as if the light had found a more direct path to his very soul. He felt the lamp’s power surging through him, and he knew that his eyes were now a part of its collection, fueling its unnatural glow.