Shade

Today, I take a break from Dragon Valley to present you with a short horror story. It is best read in the dark and the quiet, or with slow instrumental music in the background.

***
     The fog filled the city streets. It soaked through clothes and skin to chill the bones. The lampposts lining the street provided only dim lighting by which to navigate. Few were the carriages with drivers in top hats and heavy coats. Fewer still were those walking alone. In one set of streets, a single soul walked in the night, holding tightly to her worn handbag.

     Ciara was that soul. She had had been pleading with her brother to come home. He mocked her, embarrassed her until she ran crying into the still night. Her last hope was shattered. Her family lay would be ruined by her brother's heartless deeds. Soon, they would all live on streets.

     “Degenerate shade,” she whispered, “Shadows and darkness, you will kill us.”

     “Degenerate shade, indeed,” the fog whispered back, too quietly to be heard and too loud to be ignored. She looked around for the source of the voice, but quickened her pace. There was no one near enough to whisper so forcefully.

     “What do you seek from darkness, deary?” The voice was honey that soothed the very dread it brought.

     “I seek nothing of darkness, nor of your madness. It was an expression only, nothing but words,” she said, loud enough that a person following her would clearly hear. Yet she saw no one, and heard only normal nightly noises. Laughter, distant even when it was near. Hooves on cobblestones. A constable's whistle a long way off, but no commotion nearby.

     “Ah, but words are magic, my dear. Words bind people to people, words create buildings and cities and empires. Words give voice to your dreams and to your fears.”

     “Why bother me? Leave it be.” She could only hope her voice did not sound as shaken as she felt.

     The fog in front of her eyes thickened. It swam in the air as an eel in water, and circled her.

     “Oh, but the taste of your heart is sweet. Your sorrow and fear are intoxicating.”

     She heard breathing, felt a chill wind on her ear. She turned, but saw only fog. She walked slow now, carefully watching. She held her bag tightly to her. There was nothing earthly on which to blame the voice.

     “I warn you, apparition; leave me be. If you are in my mind, then be gone. If you are real, then take your leave.”

     There was laughter like silk tightly held over mouth and nose. The fog grew thicker, and took a vaguely human form beside her. It had disjointed legs and arms that trailed into mist where hands would be. Its head was large and strangely long.

     “Oh, no. I was summoned by fear and will leave with the soul which called me forth."

     Ciara reached into her bag, taking hold of the weapon within.

     “I did not call you, but I will end you.”

     “Oh, deary. You cannot end me.”

     She drew a small pistol and put it in the heavy mist. She fired, once. The creature laughed. The mist grew thicker. She drew her hand back slowly, as though treading water.

     “Guns do not banish fear, young one. They make it more real.”

     It grabbed her by her throat, its icy hand holding her tight. It lifted her up, dragging just her toes along the road so she could not step away. It pushed her up against a brick wall. Its other hand pushed on her stomach, the chill holding her there. It had eyes now, all too human eyes more real than the creature. It's grin shone darkness. It's lips were jagged teeth.

     “Now I will make my meal of your heart. When I am done, I will go to your brother and consume his mind. Of your family will I make my greatest meal.”

     Its tongue snaked out and slithered into her ear. Her pulse quickened, her muscles trembled. Her face turned red from the effort to breathe.

     “Gun,” she gasped.

     When the creature laughed and spoke, the words came from inside her.

     “The gun failed. Your fear feeds me well.”

     It squeezed her throat tighter. Her breathing barely came. She tried to choke out another word, and kicked against the wall. More fog solidified and held her still.

     “There is none to hear you scream but I.”

     She gathered the last of her breath and spoke.

     “Noise,” she said, and lifted a finger, trying to point behind the creature.

     It turned it's head. A figure appeared, a shadow not formless like he. Someone in a top hat approached, and the creature turned back to Ciara. She smiled, though she could barely see the approaching figure. The sweet fear had drained from her face.

     “I do not fear when I have people with me,” she said with a harsh whisper.

     She slipped through the misted creature's hand, and fell to the ground. The creature turned to the approaching person and let loose a great roar that shook buildings. They paused. Ciara coughed and spoke.

     “Do not fear. This creature came for me; it cannot have you.”

     It turned back and leaned over, roaring in her face. She smiled, and the lines of the creature began to fade into the mist around it.

     “Now be gone.”

     “Oh, deary. I'm never gone,” it whispered, just before it's form fully rejoined the fog. Another moment, and the roar of the whisper faded away.

     The carriage driver held out a hand and helped her stand. “Are you alright?”

     Ciara nodded. “There is nothing like company to drive away fear. I could use a ride home.”

     The driver nodded, and showed her to the carriage. The horse's hooves clapped on the stones. And though the creature did not reappear that night, Ciara felt its icy touch on her throat throughout the fog.