I was in Vientiane, Laos. I’d woken up early one morning and was sitting outside a small coffee shop, facing a single-lane road. It was early, quiet, cool—that time of day when the hustle and bustle is still tucked into bed. I was sipping my coffee, enjoying the peace.
Sitting next to me was an elderly couple on holiday. The wife was on her iPad, the husband studying a guidebook, probably planning their day.
We were enjoying the quiet when a strange slapping sound broke through. It was coming from the left, but a sign on the sidewalk was blocking my view down the road. I couldn’t quite figure out what was making the noise, only that it was getting louder with each slap.
Then a man came into view.
He was running barefoot, wearing just his boxers, the rest of his clothes balled up in his arms.
A few moments later, a ladyboy came running after him. She was still in her dress, heels off and in her hands as she chased him down the street.
I looked over at the couple. They’d both been watching.
The husband looked at me and said, “That wasn’t in the guidebook.”
I said, “No, it’s not.”
And then we went back to our business. Me sipping my coffee, him planning the day, his wife tapping at her iPad.
I’d seen ladyboys during my travels. It wasn’t new to me. Even what we’d just seen—strange anywhere else—seemed normal.
In Bright Days, there’s a clinic that cures the sick. The rules are ironclad, the secrecy suffocating, and the creeping feeling that something isn’t right is terrifying.
Yet people still show up. They still check in. Like it’s completely normal.
Find out what makes the Bright Institute the most evil clinic in the world. Bright Days is the second book in the DarkBright trilogy. Out now.