Shadow Man (Part 7)

He expected that a day’s worth of medicine taken at one time would hit him hard, but he never thought it would only take minutes to feel the effects. It had only been about eight minutes and he was already getting a buzz. His head swam and for the first time since he’d gotten home he neither felt nor cared about anything. The pain from his injuries was gone, which the teen had only noticed now that he couldn’t feel it. Jesse was in his own world when he heard a loud voice from downstairs. It was his dad’s voice, although he couldn’t make out what he was saying. Although, he sounded angry. Then came the voice of his mother replying in a tone that was just as angry, but that didn’t matter to Jesse.

            Jesse felt like listening to music that complimented his high, but he noticed that his body was heavy. He closed his eyes and tried to will himself into immediate sleep. He opened his eyes once more to see the shadow man standing at his bedside, staring down at Jesse with his new grey eyes. Then, Jesse’s eyes closed, despite his sudden wish to keep them open and watch the shadow man to make sure he didn’t try to kill Jesse in his sleep. But Jesse lost the struggle quickly and was soon asleep.

            “You’re going deeper down the rabbit whole, as they say.” A voice filled the air around Jesse who was still trying to understand where he was. All he knew was that he was in the woods somewhere with a wide, unpaved trail winding its way through the woods.

            ‘All I need is a red hood,’ Jesse thought to himself.

            He looked around. Behind him, in front of him, scanning the lush foliage on either side.

            “I haven’t seen a pine tree in a long time,” said Jesse as he stood up, feeling the smooth dirt under his red converse shoes. The teenager looked down at himself. “I don’t remember getting dressed either.”

            “Um…” Jesse spun around slowly realizing he couldn’t see the person he heard talking. “Is somebody there?”

            “I am always here,” the voice responded, reminding Jesse of the trumpet sounds that he saw on the news while in the hospital. Come to think of it, he remembered hearing it the day he was hit by that truck, too. The voice sounded like a giant, off-key trumpet in the sky. There seemed to be no real origin of the sound. He was partly unnerved by it. But, he was also partly intrigued because in the sounding of the trumpet he heard a voice.

            “Who are you?” Jesse asked, looking toward the sky.

            “The owner of all things natural.”

            “Like…what, exactly?”

            “The plants that use the energy from the Sun, and the animals that need the plants for sustenance, both directly, and indirectly. Light, and the dark. Life…and death.”

            Suddenly, Jesse was feeling more uncomfortable with what the voice from the sky was saying.

            “Wow,” the boy started before muttering “Don’t do drugs, kids.”

            There was a silence that became more awkward the longer it stayed silent. Jesse didn’t like absolute silence, noticing that there were no sounds of wildlife in the forest.

            “What’s going on?” Jesse asked.

            “Future circumstances will be difficult for you to handle alone. I am here to save your life.”

            “Well, thanks. My little brother and my best friend might not be much help. Secretly, I think that they think we’re all going crazy.”

            “They will be of no use to you. They will not survive long enough to do you much good.”

            That last comment caught Jesse by surprise. He had decided to go along with his dream; after all, he knew he was experiencing a dream. But this was too much. He began to wonder if maybe the thought of his friend and brother dying at the hands of the shadow man was just him projecting his fears of being killed by him onto them, but he couldn’t imagine that being true. Those were the only two people he’d never want to die. To be honest, he’d already reconciled that everyone else was going to die, somehow. But he’d never considered the same could happen to Izzy or Olivia.

            “That’s bullshit!” Jesse yelled. “I’m high, and this is a dream! When I wake up everything’s gonna go back to normal, and I’m never going to hear from your crazy, dumb-shit-spoutin’ ass ever again!”

            There was another awkward silence. Jesse started looking for a way to wake himself up; pinching his arms, slapping himself in the face, even falling backward onto the ground. When he stood back up, the voice in the sky finally gave a response.

            “You should call Olivia.”

            Jesse’s eye snapped open. He was still feeling the effects from the Percocet, but he wasn’t about to let that stop him. The teenager threw the comforter off of his body, rolled out of bed and clumsily tried to pick up his phone, still charging on his desk. His hand were shaking a bit; because of the Percocet or the fear that something might have happened to his best friend, he wasn’t sure, nor did he care.

            “Texting might take too long,” Jesse whispered to himself as he pressed the call button next to Olivia’s name in his contacts list. The phone rang only two times, when Olivia’s mother picked up the phone.

            “Mrs. San—”

            “Jesse! Have you seen Olivia? I can’t find her anywhere!”

The Pits (Part 9)

His heart once again began to beat harder. However, this time he was more angry than afraid. There was a thud, some footsteps, and then the doorknob turned slowly, clicking as the door began to open only enough for the old man to poke his head out.

Max could only see his head, but the look on the man’s face was nearly enough to make Max run for his life. The man had messy, white hair surrounding a bald center. His face was dirty like he’d gotten car oil on himself and tried to wipe some of it off. And his eyes were wide, bloodshot, and unblinking. The murderer didn’t move. He stood still, staring Max down. The two stood in their places for a few minutes in complete awkward silence.

“Meth is a hell of a drug, huh?” Max asked, not able to hold back his sarcastic joke.

“What’re you doin’ in my house?” The man responded.

“You’ve got my friend in there, and I’m not leaving without him.”

The old man’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “He’s my friend, now. You can’t have him,” he said slowly, and quietly.

Max stared at the crazy-eye murderer in bewilderment, never expecting to hear something so childish from a man nearing the age of retirement. “What are you, six?”

“Max?” came a voice from inside the room the man was leaning out of.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Max returned. “I’m gonna get you out of there!”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” Gio said, his voice wavering as if he was going to cry. “He…*sob*…I’m bleedin’ a lot, man. And I’m feelin’ really cold.”

“Just hang on,” Max felt relieved knowing his friend was alive; however, he felt a new wave of panic when he thought about why Gio could be bleeding so much as to feel cold. It was actually rather warm in the house, and warmer outside since it was summer.

“What did you do to him?” Max asked the old man?

The old murderer opened the door through which he was leaning a bit more, walking through it, and closing it behind him. Max heard a quiet click and knew the man locked the door. The killer’s eyes moved up to the right as if he were thinking about his answer before speaking:

“He tried to get away. Ran all the way to my neighbor’s house. Good friend of mine.”

“No way in hell you have friends,” Max muttered.

“My friend knocked him out and returned him to me,” the old man looked over to the workbench on his left where a bone saw lay, drenched in blood that had begun to coagulate. Max’s eyes followed the old man’s to the area he was looking, and Max’s heart dropped into his stomach when he put the pieces of that fucked up puzzle together in his mind.

The old man continued speaking. “Had to make sure he’d never run away again. Tied him down with rope, but the sucker got loose. Electrocuted him in the tub till he passed out,” The man motioned toward the tub full of disgusting brown water, and with a grin said, “Then took him over to the workbench and cut his legs off.”

Max had already figured that was what was happened, minus the electrocution part. But hearing the man say what he did out loud caused his stomach to churn. He felt nauseous but tried not to think about it. Instead, he focused more on his anger at the old man for torturing his friend and amputating his legs. He was also angry at the old murderer’s so-called friend for giving his Gio to the old man to be killed.

“Hey, Max?” Gio called out, sounding weaker than he had before.

“Yeah?”

“You should just go. I can’t feel anything anyway. Not anymore.”

“Don’t give up! I’m not leaving you here!”

“Max?” By this point Gio sounded just as depressed as he sounded weak.

“Yeah?” Max could sense in Gio’s voice that he wasn’t going to like what was coming next.

“…Where’s Simon?”

Not knowing what he should say, Max decided to go with the truth.

“They…got him.” Now it was Max’s turn to reveal his sadness over their friend’s loss.

Gio didn’t respond, and Max wasn’t sure if he was having a moment of silence for their dead friend, or if it was because he just couldn’t talk anymore. But the silence in the room fueled Max’s anger and seemed like the best time to strike.

Max had the sledge hammer resting on his shoulder as he took a few steps closer to the old man. He stared into the murderer’s eyes which seemed to have dimmed as his hair greyed. The two glared at each other for a few seconds. Then Max kicked the older man in the stomach as hard as he could. The old man doubled over, still trying to stand up. Max brought the hammer down on the man’s head with all the strength he had left hitting the man directly in the back of his head dropping him to the floor. Max stared at the man’s head, watching the blood pour out of his head and coat the floor around it. Then, he braced himself and walked into the back room.

The Shadows' Empress (Part 2)

Roland turned off the TV. He planned on watching the rest of the Olympic games that would be shown on the local news channel; however, he didn’t feel like watching thirty minutes or so of the news. Besides, none of the events he wanted to watch would be aired, and he was getting incredibly tired. Roland hadn’t actually done too much during the day aside from some assignments for school, which he had all day to do. His father allowed him to stay home from school thinking Roland’s nightmare that morning was caused by some issues his son refused to talk about. Maybe having the day off to destress would do him some good.

Whether it did or not was yet to be tested. Roland finished his assignments early that morning and spent most of the day drawing and watching highlights from the winter Olympics. Having so much time to himself made him more anxious than anything. All day, he could only think about the dream he’d had the night before. Or rather, his nightmare. As much as he wanted to forget about it, something about it seemed too real to ignore. So, he tried drawing the woman he dubbed the Shadows' Empress and wondered if there was a way to force himself to have the same dream again. Though, he didn’t count of it. Roland’s best friend, Connor, once mentioned that he could control what happened in his dreams—something he called lucid dreaming. That didn’t sound like what Roland was going for, so he didn’t bother trying to learn how to do it.

The teenager stared at the television, looking at the reflection of the kitchen behind the couch where he laid. For a second, he wondered where the light was coming from that caused the line of light that shone diagonally across the tv, before realizing that the light in the kitchen was on. He had forgotten to turn it off when he’d gone in to get s a root beer.

“Last one out, get the lights,” he said, quoting his science teacher from freshman year—the year before.

Roland stretched, extending across the couch, and stood up, walking toward the kitchen and turning off the light. He turned back around to head upstairs with the sudden feeling that he was being watched. He used to get the feeling often, despite there being no one watching him. Roland looked through all of the windows on the first floor. Seeing no one he turned his attention to the locks on the front and back doors, which were visible from his spot on the third step.

“Ugh…I should stop looking around,” Roland said to himself out loud. “There’s never anyone there.”

Walking past his younger siblings’ bedrooms, Roland took a moment to check on them. He did this often. Now that his mother wasn’t around to do the things she used to do for him, Roland took it upon himself to do them in her place. They were sleeping, which Roland found amazing with as much energy as they had just before their bedtime.

“Hey, Dad. I’m going to bed,” Roland said as he came to his father’s bedroom door. “Goodni—”

“Stop bothering my family. They’ve done nothing to you.” Roland heard Jacob say.

“Okay…I’ll just see you in the morning,” the confused teen muttered under his breath.

Roland continued to his room, shocked by what he’d heard. He wondered about who his father could have been talking to, but was too tired to let it concern him for too long. Instead, he stripped to his boxers, and got into bed. His mind immediately drifting back to the Shadows' Empress. This time, though, he only thought about how cool he thought her new title was.

‘There it is, again.’ He thought. ‘That feeling like someone’s stalking me.’

“Fuck it. Nobody’s ever there.” Roland rolled onto his left side, trying to think more about what his dad had said. But he couldn’t. He felt a strong presence behind him but was too sleepy to see who was behind him. And his eyelids seemed heavier than they were a few minutes ago.

Everything was completely dark, again. Roland looked around but couldn’t see anything. He began to panic. Something wasn’t right, and he could tell that whatever he’d gotten into, it was bad. He frantically began to walk in different directions, hoping whatever was going on would stop and he could wake up in his bed.

Roland stopped. ‘I’m asleep. I think…’

He began to pace in the darkness as he spoke to himself—his way of making sense of things. “I don’t remember going to bed, but that’s nothing new.”

Roland calmed down as he realized that he was in familiar territory, despite not being able to see where he was.

“In my nightmare last night…I fell into a hole at the end, and it closed up over me. Maybe I’m still there, and my nightmare’s just starting from this point.”

He chuckled to himself. “That’s actually kind of bad-ass! Bet you’ve never done this in your dreams, Connor!”

Suddenly, there was a feeling of wind blowing into Roland’s face, and the smell of salt water.

“You’re back. It’s nice to see you again so soon.”

Roland whirled around to see a small light illuminating a hole in the wall. And just inside it, the Shadows' Empress. Roland’s heart felt like it skipped a beat.

“I didn’t know you could stand in the light,” he said. “…Even though you were technically in the light when we first met…” He felt his cheeks burn as the blood rushed to them. ‘Blushing again? Hopefully, she can’t see it since I’m standing in the dark like a creeper.’

“If you don’t want to stay in this hole forever, I suggest you follow this tunnel to a much less…lonely place.” The Shadows' Empress spoke slowly, and calmly as she did before. With a hint of familiarity.

‘Who is she?’ Roland asked himself. ‘Why do I feel like I know her?’

“Why should I follow you?” he asked, not meaning to be defiant. Can you blame a boy with trust issues?

“If you wish to stay in the darkness you’re welcome to. But do mind the Nitris. They do not enjoy visitors in their caves.” The Shadows' Empress walked away through the tunnel until Roland could no longer see her.

“I’m not looking for a fight with some shit I’ve never heard of before.”

Roland walked to the opening of the cave and, before entering, took the candle held in a sconce on the left side of the opening. He took a deep breath and forced himself to continue walking.

“It’s only a dream,” he told himself. “Right?”

Shadow Man (Part 6)

“And you brought friends?” Jesse looked down to see several shadow figures walking around at the Shadow man’s feet. There were seven of them, and they all had a distinct quality that Jesse had never seen before. Instead of the usual creatures that were composed of a uniform darkness, these looked more like smoke. Black at the bottom, lighter toward the top, as if the shadows were evaporating. The three shadows in the front that appeared to be cats of some kind were the strangest, with the likeness of oil being poured into boiling water.

One of the cats slowly walked up to Jesse, circling him and rubbing its face on his leg like a house cat before running away and passing through a wall. ‘So only the big one can break things…’ Jesse thought noticing that he didn’t feel the shadow cat touch his leg. He felt comforted by the idea that not all of the shadow figures could potentially murder him. But only just a little. For a while, Jesse had been wondering if they could somehow shift between normal shadows—or as normal as shadow figures could be—and the solid type that break desk lamps.

Jesse took a small step forward, watching how the shadow man reacted to his movements. By this point, he wasn’t even concerned with the smaller shadows, although part of him imagined one of the cats growing twice its original size and being made of fire for some reason. The shadow man made no effort to move, so Jesse took another small step forward. Still no reaction.

‘Maybe it only reacts when I’m scared?’ The idea crossed Jesse’s mind as he remembered some of the things that had happened in past encounters with the shadow man. Whenever it had taken Jesse by surprise it would move, going so far as to break things when Jesse was the most afraid. But he also noticed that when he wasn’t scared the shadow stood still. Well, the big one did. The shadow cats did their own thing just as real cats would. Then another thought ran through Jesse’s mind: ‘Why cats? I fucking hate cats.’

To test his hypothesis, Jesse walked calmly toward the shadow man, looking at in directly where he assumed its’ eye would be.

‘I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of you.’ He thought as he came to a stop a foot away from the hulking mass of darkness. ‘But I am a little hungry.’

The two stared at each other for quite some time, Jesse staring into the shadow man’s blank slate of a face. The more they watched each other, the more Jesse noticed two grey specks on the dark figure’s face. They never became any lighter, but they did get bigger. Or were Jesse’s eyes playing a trick on him? He stared a little while longer, watching the specks become the size of a pencil’s eraser. The grew until they were the size of a human’s eyes. As he stared, Jesse couldn’t help but remember something he’d heard someone on a television show say: “The longer you stare at the lights, the longer they stare at you.” Except, in this case, the opposite was true. And it was freaking Jesse out.

“I’m gonna pretend you aren’t real for a while.” Jesse whispered to the shadow man. “I can only take so much bullshit in one day.”

With that, Jesse turned to walk into his bedroom, closing the door behind him without looking. But, just to see what the shadow man did when he wasn’t looking, Jesse opened his bedroom door a few inches to peer into the hall. The shadow man, and all his minions, were gone. Jesse closed the door again, breathing a deep sigh of relief, then stared at his bedroom door for few seconds studying the patterns in the white painted wood; his mind blank. Wanting to think, but not being able to at the moment, Jesse went over to his desk, stood his lamp back up on its base, and brushed the glass of the broken bulb into the trash can on the floor. A part of him wanted to talk to Izzy. The part of Jesse that felt like he was losing his mind. The other part didn’t want to bother his younger brother just yet, so he sat at his desk.

“I’m not even taking the Percocet anymore, and shit’s still nuts.” Jesse told himself. “And now, I’m talking to myself.” He looked down at the drawer to his right where he tossed his prescription. Because it was so full of files, and papers that Jesse never threw away the drawer never closed, the cap of the medicine bottle preventing it from doing so. Jesse pulled the bottle out of the drawer and stared at the label, reading the instructions describing how much he should take.

“Alright, fuck it.” Jesse opened the bottle with a bit more difficulty than he should have had with a safety cap and poured two pills out of the bottle into his hand. He tossed them into his mouth, trying not to think too much about what he was doing. And swallowed them, with some of the water in the water bottle he kept on his desk next to the lamp. Then he took two more pills from the bottle, and took those, too. He took the full amount of Percocet for a day in one dose. Closing the bottle and leaving it on his desk, he stripped down to his boxers and got into bed.

The Pits (Part 8)

Looking down at the stairs, Max wondered how he was going to get to the next floor without being noticed. They were made of wood, probably from the trees from the forest surrounding the house. And, seeing as how the rest of the house looked several decades old, the stairs were probably very creaky. He tried to think back to when the old man went up the stairs in the few minutes before when Max heard what sounded like Gio begging for help. Did the stairs make any noises when he went up them? In his panic upon realizing Gio was still alive, albeit apparently in a lot of pain, Max wasn’t listening to anything other than his friend’s cries.

            ‘I guess it doesn’t matter. I have to get up there one way or another. And the more I think about it the less chance Gio has of survival.’ Max lightly placed his right foot on the first step, slowly putting his weight on it. The old wood made no noise. ‘Maybe if I just climb up slowly I can surprise this bitch?’

            At that moment, there was a sound of something landing on the floor above and rolling around. Max registered that—whatever it was—it was made of some kind of metal as it made a distinctive ting upon impact. ‘Fuck it…’

            Summoning all of the courage he had Max walked up the stairs with his back along the wall to his left. The stair made creaking sounds like he expected they wood, but he no longer cared. Though, he did notice his heart being faster with every step he took. When he got to the top Max’s ears were filled with the pounding of his heart; his peripheral vision being clouded with a similar kind of static old televisions produced when they weren’t on the right channel. For a second, he thought he could even hear the static. Until he realized the sound was something heavy being dragged across the floor. The noise was coming from the room around the left corner and down the hallway from his current position. Max stared down the dark hallway, then down to the table in front of him. There was a crystal ball sitting on a small purple cushion among pictures of what looked like a younger version of the old man, and two women who may have been the murderous geezer’s sisters. ‘I wonder if they were lunatics, too, or if he killed them first.’

Max picked up the crystal ball with both hands, holding it close to his chest as he walked down the hallway to the rooms at the far end. There were two: one directly ahead with a large lock on the knob that sported a keyhole and a number pad with glowing numbers—the only obvious technology in the house, and a room to the right. The door on the right was open. It must have been a big room as the man was still dragging…whatever it was across the room, seemingly past where Max was standing in the hallway.

‘Just look in,’ Max thought to himself. ‘If it’s not Gio, go back downstairs and hide in the vent.’

Trembling, Max closed the distance between him and the open door, slowly leaning forward to peer inside. The room was only a little bit lighter than the hallway, but at least he could see more. The room was smaller than Max first imagined it to be, but there was another doorway at the other side of the room. It was closed. And, as he entered, for the first time Max realized there was a distinctive smell that seemed to emanate from that side of the room. As he got further into the room the smell intensified. ‘Please tell me this guy doesn’t eat roadkill.’ He said to himself. Max stopped, looking around the room. There were much better weapons to use against this guy hanging on the walls. Hammers, electric saws, a chainsaw in one of the corners, and a bathtub full of dirty, brown water with a car battery and jumper cables sitting on a cart next to it. ‘This guy’s gangster.’ Max admitted, although he wasn’t sure he’d like to find out how gangster the killer could be.

There was a sudden gasping sound from beyond the door to the other room followed by coughing. Coughing that sounded like someone was exhaling large amounts of water after being resuscitated from drowning. It started Max. Millions of thoughts ran through his mind; the most prominent one being ‘When did he drown Gio? I didn’t hear any water splashing.’ Remembering that his friend may have been knocked unconscious only minutes ago, Max decided Gio wasn’t awake when he was drowned, and couldn’t fight back.

‘I’m fucking DONE with this,’ Max thought. He held the crystal ball out in front of him and dropped it onto the wooden floor. He then walked over to the large sledge hammer hanging on the wall and waited.

The Shadows' Empress (Part 1)

“What…am I looking at?” Roland stared up the decrepit stairs of the main entrance to the hotel at the dark creature. It stood there, almost inviting him to follow it. But the shadow-like opacity, and what looked like black wind flowing in thin streams around it kept his feet planted where they were. Taking an extra few seconds to look this creature over, he could make out a figure within the different shades of grey and black. At this point, Roland could see that those streams of black wind, and the smoke emanating from the ground around the thing’s feet took the shape of a dress. And atop her head sat an ornate headdress made of what seemed to be a goat skull with horns that formed a perfect spiral on either side, decorated with red jewels and silver chains.

            “You must come with me, Roland,” the creature said raising a hand out, palm up, as if expecting him to take her hand so they could walk in the long-abandoned hotel together.

            “I—I’m not supposed to go anywhere with strangers,” Roland stammered. Woman had such an alluring voice, but the teenager’s fear took precedence over all other senses.

            The woman made of shadows chuckled a bit, lowering her hand. Roland thought she might be laughing at him for sounding like a little kid with his “stranger danger” speech. That idea caused him to blush while wondering why he should care what she thought of him. ‘Who even is she?’

            “You can deny me all you want…” the woman slowly turned her back to Roland, bringing her hands together under the wide sleeves of her shadowy gown. “But you will one day return here, begging for me to show you what think you need to know. I have already seen it.”

            ‘Great. So, she can see the future,’ Roland strangely felt a longing for this woman that he had only just met and knew nothing about, and she hadn’t even left, yet. But she was leaving. Walking away slowly into the hotel that, only now, felt familiar in the way that only things worth reminiscing about can.

            “Have I been here before?” the boy asked himself, not thinking anyone would hear him.

            “You have,” the mass of shadows surrounding the woman shifted to one side, revealing part of the headdress as she spoke. “And when you are ready to come back, I will be here to welcome you.”

            One word flashed through Roland’s mind as he processed those words: Empress. Not knowing why, he felt that title definitely suited her. The Shadows’ Empress. Knowing this small detail that made him feel a little better about everything that was happening at the moment, despite the likely possibility that it only made sense to him. He didn’t care. Roland needed something to help him understand the situation before him, even though he didn’t actually know what that was.

            Roland stared up at the center tower of the hotel that boasted a magnificent clock face on it. He was hoping to tell what time it was; another piece of information that might make him feel better—or worse—but ultimately had no real value. However, the hand on the clock were moving at a steady pace. Backwards.

            “Maybe I’m stuck in a world where time doesn’t exist?” he said, hoping asking questions out loud that weren’t exactly directed at the Empress would more likely prompt her to give Roland answers than if he asked her directly. He didn’t hear anything. Roland looked back down toward the cracked stone path where she was standing. She was gone, and Roland never saw her leave. Roland walked up the few steps to the are where the path was flat, examining the walkway. Nothing but broken, grey bricks with weeds growing from underneath them, black like they had been burned by some kid with a magnifying glass trying to kill ants.

            “Wow. Most villains wait for their victims to ask for answers and tell them to figure everything out on their own before they leave.”

            The ground began to rumble and shake around him. The stones of the walkway began to crack even more as Roland watched. Then, suddenly, the ground under the bricks rose, pushing them apart, before swallowing everything in an ever-growing sink hole, dark with no bottom in sight. Roland tried to run. He had turned away from the hotel, from the hole in the ground, and started to run to the forest that was a great distance away.

The sink hole was opening wider, swallowing even more of the landscape; growing to fast for the frightened teen to outrun it. The ground under his feet fell away, causing his body to drop into the sink hole like the pennies he used to throw into the fountain at the mall when he was younger. ‘Where’s that good luck now?’ he thought as he stared up at the white sky that got smaller as his vision was eclipsed by the hole he had fallen into.

Eventually, everything was dark. The hole he had fallen into looked as if it had closed at the top. There was no sky. Not anymore. Just darkness, and a boy alone with his thoughts.

‘Your mother did her best bringing you into this world. I did my best raising you. The rest is up to you. Good luck, boy. You might need it someday.’

Shadow Man (Part 5)

‘Holy shit! Why don’t you just go home and leave my brother alone?’ Jesse stared at his Uncle as the large man stood and walked over to the stairs. Certain steps creaked, as they were made of wood, so he could keep tabs on Uncle Nick’s progress toward Izzy’s room.

Normally, Jesse was rather good at bullshitting—coming up with excuses was often an easy thing for him. But at that moment, the paralyzing shock he felt was keeping him from thinking about anything.

As they say, anything that can go badly will. Jesse saw a small black object in his peripheral vision, and instinctively turned to look at it. He followed what looked like a small cat making a beeline to the kitchen, disappearing beyond the door frame. Immediately after, the hulking shadow figure that had been causing Jesse so much stress since he left the hospital took a wobbling step into the living room, moving its’ head from left to right and back again as if surveying the room. Jesse wanted to scream but was a bit more concerned that everyone else seemed so calm. ‘How do you not see that?’ Jesse yelled inside his own mind.

Minzy began to cry snapping Jesse out of his trance. ‘Babies really can see things adults can’t,’ he thought. ‘Fuck off, shadow man. I’m busy.’

“Hey, Dad? Can I talk to you about something?” Jesse asked.

“Sure, bud! What’s going on?”

Jesse did his best to appear shy. “Um…In private?”

Jesse’s parents gave each other a look as if to say “Oh, shit…”

“You boys go and discuss your ‘man’ problems, while Isabella and I catch up some more,” Jesse’s mom said, shooing father and son away.

Jesse grabbed his father’s hand and led him upstairs to the teenager’s bedroom but left the door open so any noises from Izzy’s room could be heard.

“What’s up?” Jesse’s dad asked as he sat down on his son’s bed.

“Well, it’s about Izzy. He wanted to ask you, but he was embarrassed, so he asked me. But I don’t actually know what to do in this situation, so I was planning on asking you later when everyone went home, but it doesn’t look like that’s gonna happen anytime soon,” Jesse spat the words out quickly, while pacing back and forth. He had never taking acting classes, so Jesse only hoped he was coming off and awkward, or nervous.

“Now, you boys know that you can come to me with whatever problems you’re having.”

“I know…” Jesse mumbled looking at the floor. ‘Please don’t look at the desk lamp’ he thought. Honestly, his second biggest concern was getting in trouble for breaking it. ‘Focus, Jesse…’

“What if, hypothetically…”

“A hypothetical situation that you’ve already told me was about Izzy?”

Jesse’s eyes darted around the room for a second realizing what he said and thinking about what to say next. “Yeah. Okay, so there’s this guy that…kinda creeps him out. Has been for a long time. But there’s no way to get away from him. And…nobody would believe us if we told them what he used to—”

“Is it Nick?” Jesse’s father wore a stern, borderline angry face.

For the second time in less than twenty minutes Jesse was stunned into silence. He wasn’t sure if he made it obvious or not, but now that he had the chance to confess something that had been bothering him since he was in elementary school he couldn’t bring himself to say it. But, in this case, Jesse’s silence spoke volumes.

Jesse’s dad got up from the bed and stomped down the hallway. Seconds later, there was a bang when he kicked in youngest son’s door open to see Izzy in bed, wiping something from his lower lip, and Uncle Nick standing over his nephew.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” Jesse’s father spoke quietly, seething. He didn’t know exactly what was going on, but he never liked Nick, and finally had a reason to kick him out.

“What—” Nick started to speak, but the tone in which his brother-in-law spoke and the look on his face let him know he didn’t want to accidentally escalate things. After all, Nick was one of the few people to see his brother-in-law angry. He might as well be the grim reaper.

“Okay, man. Just making sure Izzy was alright,” Nick said raising his hands as a sign that he meant no harm. “I’m leaving, alright?”

Jesse’s father followed Nick to the front door, slamming in Nick’s face when he tried to say goodbye. Meanwhile, Jesse thought he should have a talk with his little brother.

“You alright?” Jesse asked.

“I’m fine.” Izzy definitely didn’t sound fine. He turned away from his brother, pulling the comforter up over his head. Jesse walked over and sat down on the bed next to his brother and put his hand on Izzy’s shoulder above the cocoon of blankets that Izzy wrapped himself with. A muffled sound came from the inside of the cocoon. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Not yet.”

“I gotcha, bro. But you know Dad’s gonna want to talk about…everything, now.”

“I know.”

“I’ll tell him you’re not up to talk about it just yet. But if you do wanna talk, I’m here for you.”

“Okay.”

Jesse walked towards the door of his brother’s room, but Izzy stopped him before he could leave. “Thanks, bro…”

“No problem, Izzy.”

Upon closing the bedroom door, Jesse looked down the hallway toward the top of the stairs to see the Shadow Man standing there quietly.

“I was wondering where you went.”

The Pits (Part 7)

He ran around some of the rooms on the first floor. He knew there was a second floor, but he’d already made one stupid decision going into the house in the first place. The startled teen was not about to make another mistake by going upstairs where it would be more difficult to escape. Max found a vent just big enough for him to fit in if he sucked in his gut. And it only had one screw of the four it took to hold the vent secure.

            “Dumb decision number two…” he growled to himself. “What a fucking day.”

            Max pushed the vent’s opening over to the left and up and slid into the duct feet first while holding his breath. Only about two seconds after he had slid the vent back down did the front door open, and a tall older man walked in, dragging something behind him.

            ‘He’s pretty built, for an old guy,’ thought Max as the old man picked up what he was dragging by a different spot. Max could see now that it was a person. One of the cultists. The man walked up to the vent.

            ‘Fuck! He found me!’ Max tried to push himself further back into the duct without making noise but found he couldn’t go any further than where he already was. He couldn’t close his eyes, even though he really wanted to. But the man never opened the vent, like Max was expecting him to, which kind of through him off. ‘What’s he doing?’

            SMACK!

            Max nearly vomited at the sight of what lay before him on the other side of the vent. It was one of the cultists. Except his lower jaw was torn off, leaving his tongue dangling where ever gravity decided it should go. His left arm was missing, and he was wearing a bear trap on his right leg like it was the next big fashion trend. The destroyed body in front of Max wasn’t even dead, yet. That was the worst part—at least for Max. The cultist’s eyes were wide and nearly bulging out of his head, staring Max directly in the eyes. He looked like he was trying to scream but was in so much pain that no sound could leave the gaping hole that was once a mouth.

            The half-dead cultist’s blood was pooling quickly around his head, travelling straight for the vent. When Max was finally able to avoid looking at the train wreck of a body on the other side of the vent, he noticed the blood. It was coming toward him.

            ‘What if it gets in here,’ he asked himself. ‘What if the old man tries to open the vent to clean it up? What. The fuck. Do I DO?’

            Max began to panic more at the thought that the blood would seep into the duct. ‘If it gets on me I might leave a trail when I get o-!’ His frantic thoughts were cut off by a splattering of blood, bone, and brain matter hitting him in the face. Max’s eyes shut automatically when he felt the gore paint parts of his face. He wiped it off with his hand and attempted to wipe it off onto the wall of the duct as he looked back towards the cultist.

            He no longer had a head.

            The old man stomped one of his boots onto the dead man’s head, obliterating it on impact.

            Max blinked several times, the understanding of the situation sinking in slowly. The panic Max felt caused his heart to beat faster than it did when he was running through the woods and he felt a scream clawing its’ way up his throat. But before it could be heard someone else began to scream instead.

            “Where am I?” They asked. “Let me the fuck outta here! Please, please, please! I’ll do whatever ya want! Just please let me go!”

            Max could hear the person sobbing. The voice sounded familiar.

            “Look, dude! My friends are out there, somewhere! I gotta find them! I…I think I lost them, and It’s all my fault! Please, you gotta let me go,” the voice went back to uncontrollable bawling for a while, causing the old man to grunt in annoyance and head towards the stairs.

            ‘It’s Gio! It can’t be anyone else. He’s alive! And now that psycho is probably gonna kill him!’ Max looked through the open door. There was a truck parked with the bed closest to the front door. ‘The tail lights are on! The truck is running!’ Max thought for a second about leaving Gio there and taking the old man’s truck. Part of him felt he was justified. Like Gio left them on purpose. And now, Simon was dead.

            “NO!” Gio yelled. “Please don’t… I don’t wanna die… Jesus, please!”

            Hearing that changed Max’s mind. He’d never seen—well, heard—the big bully he called his friend so scared that he suddenly became religious. And maybe Gio lost them on accident like he kind of said a minute ago.

            Max opened the vent, and pulled himself out, getting covered in more blood and gore in the process. He then stood up and stared out of the door at the truck.

            “Last chance, moron,” he whispered. After a few seconds, he took a step forward, actually planning on getting in the truck and driving away. But he heard something akin to a punch being thrown, and Gio stopped crying for a moment. Max’s heart broke. He sighed, turned towards the stairs he told himself he’d never go up, and began walking as quietly as he could.

What Happened on Mom's Birthday (3/3)

Eva and Natasha waved as their parents backed their car out of their driveway before going back inside. The sisters sat down on the couch in the living room, and as Eva reached for the remote to turn on the television, Natasha grabbed her hand to stop her.

“Spill!”

“Where?” Eva asked looking at the part of the couch where their clasped hands rested.

“No, you said you’d tell me what you saw when you passed out on Mom’s birthday!”

“Oh, yeah…” Eva whispered. She really didn’t want to have this conversation, but figured it was going to come at some point. ‘I shouldn’t have told you about it. But I was still out of it, so…’

“Well?” Natasha stared into Eva’s eyes with impatient determination, kind of freaking Eva out.

“First of all, stop looking at me like that.”

“Second?”

Eva though for a minute. “There were…monsters…I guess. Everywhere. I mean, they were human-looking, so I guess they were actually people at one point. But, there was something wrong with them.”

“Like what?”

“Well, they looked like zombies. Straight out of those movies Benji like some much. But they had wings. Bat wings. They were all just moving rocks, or getting punished for not moving them fast enough.”
            “Punished how? Like, they were whipped or something?”

“Or something… One of them was strangled until he stopped moving. And when he started moving again, the leader, or whatever, through him into a huge hole in the ground.”
            “Holy, crap!” Natasha said, incredulous to the fact that this could actually happen.

“Yeah. I never thought I’d see that guy again, but a few minutes later, while the leader was talking to me, he just fell out of the sky and face-planted on to the ground next to the hole.”

Natasha let go of Eva’s hand and sat back. She felt a bit sick at the thought of watching someone hit the ground after falling from a tall place. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know everything, but she couldn’t help listening to it.

“The leader told me that was what purgatory was like. He said it was more ‘hell in a limbo, and nowhere near as hot’. And the people there sometimes would be killed and brought back to life repeatedly just to amuse him.”

“Why would purgatory be so messed up?” Natasha found herself nearly yelling. Eva shushed her. She didn’t want Benji to wake up, much less hear what she was saying to Natasha. He might tell their parents, who would probably send her back to the psychiatric hospital. Eva definitely did not want to go back. To her, that place was like prison: boring, and they decide when you leave.

“I don’t know. It was weird watching him actually do those kinds of things to prove a point. He set a girl on fire; told me she thought she was a witch when she was alive. He crushed a guy with a rock. And then he had someone carve his face off because he didn’t like looking at it.” Eva shivered. “That was the worst part. As soon as it was done, the leader sent him back to work mopping up blood and…other stuff.”

“I don’t want to know ‘other stuff’ means. You can skip that part.”

“Okay. After explaining what happened there, he got really sentimental on me. He said he preferred if people like me wouldn’t show up there. I guess if you kill yourself, no one really knows what to do with your soul because it wasn’t your time to die. He said most of us haven’t proven we deserve to be in hell, and that most of us are good people who felt like we couldn’t handle life. The leader told me he sends as many of us back to…life. Or to heaven to see if we can get in. That’s why I didn’t die. It wasn’t my time, yet.”

“And you weren’t bad enough to go to hell?” Natasha said.

Eva noticed the look on Natasha’s face. The one that said, ‘I’m calling bullshit’.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not saying I don’t believe you…” Natasha started, choosing her words carefully. “But, that’s something I’d definitely have to see to be sure about it.”

“Why did you even ask me about it?”

“Maybe I was just expecting something else. Something less horrible. But regardless of what happened, I’m glad you’re still here with us.” Natasha smiled at her sister, and for once in a long time wasn’t reminded of songs about depression.

“I am, too,” wearing her own bright smile felt great for once. She felt like no one was judging her anymore. Like her family was finally comfortable around her. Ever since her last suicide attempt, Eva had felt as if everyone, particularly Natasha and Benji were judging her for being weak. She was glad to know that wasn’t the case.

“Hey, guys,” Benji said as he walked into the living room.

“’Sup?” Natasha said, trying to be cool. “Isn’t that what the kids are saying these days?”

Eva and Benji laughed.

“Nope. But nice try, sis.” Benji said pulling something from behind his back. “Uh…this is for you, Eva. I drew it last night.”

Eva took the piece of paper from her brother. “Thanks, bro.” She chuckled.

“You better be glad you’re actually talented, Benji. I told Dad you were up all last night drawing, when I’m ninety-five percent sure you were playing videogames. I even told him about the thing you were drawing for him for his birthday.”

“Good thing I actually drew something for his birthday,” Benji said as he walked towards the kitchen. “Hey, Eva. If you need someone to talk to, you’ve got me.”

Without waiting for her to answer, Benji disappeared in the kitchen, no doubt to forage for food like a normal teenager does.

Eva looked at the picture her brother drew, and she could swear her heart skipped a beat. “No. Fucking. Way.”

“What? Is it a family portrait, or something uncharacteristically adorable of him?” Natasha asked trying to look over Eva’s shoulder.

Eve turned towards Natasha and held up the picture.

“This is him! It’s...it’s the leader.”

Natasha looked at the very well-drawn picture. “That’s him?”

“Yes!”

“God, he’s one ugly mofo.” Natasha said as she stood up. “I’m going to get something to drink. Want someth--?”

Eva and Natasha stared at each other in silence. Both were making an effort to understand what was going on, and could see the gears turning in the other’s head. Finally, Eva asked, “How does he know what the leader looks like?”