The Shadow

The Shadow

 * Before you read, this story is much different. It's scarier in a different way. Put yourself is Connor's position when you read, the terror you'd feel what you read about, imagine it happening to you. Then you can fully appreciate how scary this could be if it actually happened.


 * Many have told me I'm insane. They may be right. My name is Connor, I am 32 years old. I live in Worcester, Massachuesetts. This story starts when I was 8.


 * My father, who wasnt even a father to me, came home one night even more drunk than usual. He was puking blood (must have had a bar fight) and looking for my mother. My mother though, has been dead for 2 years now. Father killed her and hid her body. I couldn't speak about it. I followed him carefully as he made his way upstairs to his bedroom and punched his wall. He broke through and inside was a coffin. "Dear, I am sorry for what I've done to you," he whispered, "I wish I could remove my addiction, but it gets rid of my pain. The child... I don't know. I don't have the heart to send him away."


 * Father has mood swings when hes drunk. He killed mother when he was very angry over slightly undercooked venision. Father is incapable of doing much for work because when he killed mother, he dislocated his shoulder and gave himself brain damage from stumbling so many times and falling, hurting his head on the tar on the road. It doesn't help him that we had no money to help his head and no money to help me or the house. All of the money we get goes to him for his drinking habits. My uncle, Graem, takes care of me much more than father is. Uncle wanted to take me to his house, but I denied him. I wanted to look after father. I didn't have many friends because, again, when he killed mother, he turned on me and punched me in the forehead. After that, there was always something wrong with me. Something different. Out of the corner of my eye I could see shadows, even when theres no light. Sometimes, I'd wake up randomly to see something standing over me, then the thing disappears after I blink. One night I stared at it for a very long time. It had blue eyes and a ghost form of a body, like a whisp. It almost had a tail instead of legs. The Shadow, as I have come to call it, had no facial features, had no mouth, had no nose, no hair, no eyebrows. But what The Shadow did have was almost arms, which had curved scimitars attached with beautiful runic looking marks that shine like a new moon. One of the marks looked like a beautifully decorated coffin. I couldn't study it long enough because I blinked, and it dissipated into nothing. I've always felt eyes on me after that.


 * Especially now, that my father was staring at the beautifully decorated coffin, exactly like the runic mark. I looked behind me, and there it was. The Shadow. It's eyes were not blue now. They were crimson, glowing black, almost lighter yet darker than the rest of its body. The Shadow started toward my father, slow yet fast, elegant and majestic, yet deadly beyond belief with an air of superiority and an aura that makes you shiver, makes you want to run and hide, yet stay and watch it's floating gait. The long, curved scimitars reached out toward my father. Then, when the scimitars were a few feet away, he turned around.


 * "Coral, I'm so sorry." Coraline was my mothers name, he never called her "Coral" maybe he was complimenting her somehow, calling her beautiful and deadly. Now I understood what The Shadow was because he could see what The Shadow truly was. It was my mother. The coffin runic marking now made sense. "I cannot make up what I've done." Mother then rushed forward with her scimitars and stabbed my father ruthlessly, drawing so much blood. It all spilled all the floor and soon, the scimitars were covered with gore and my father lying in a pool of the same things that were on mothers blades. Slowly, mother made her way towards me. Her gait was almost sad but happy, now that she has killed who has killed her. She has avenged herself, and her vengence is fullfilled. Eyes now blue, speaking with body language, I understood perfectly. She was going to kill me. I ran, but mother was faster. She caught me and stabbed me in multiple spots, wanting me to bleed out for not killing father when I should have.


 * Now fully concious, my heart slowly, ever so slowly beating. I couldn't sit up. I haven't the strength to even attempt it. Somehow being able to, I turned my head to see my Graem, my uncle. "Father finally had enough of you? Don't need to explain. Don't even try. I bandaged you up, you're safe now. You know, your father was lying in... Nevermind, just get some rest." With that, I fell unconsious again.


 * When I was 18, I didn't see a sign of The Shadow. But then, on my 19th birthday, my house was engulfed in darkness. I rushed outside and didn't understand until...


 * The memories came back to me.


 * I stumbled. I fell. And the darkness engulfed me. This time, mother took no chances. I was dispatched qucikly.


 * I woke up, gasping. It was all a dream? No. It wasn't, I had blood around me and my house collasped but I was fine. I had no wounds. I didn't question my luck. I ran fast, nowhere in mind. Insurance kind of covered my house... But most of my money was spent fixing it up. It looked much newer and better. No longer was I scared of mother. Instead, I was happy. She could not kill me. She could not even hurt me.


 * At the age of 32, she attacked. I believed myself invincible, but that was a lie. I was walking along a park. Beautiful glowing marks, like the new moon shining, shown. Looking more closely, the scimitars lashed out. It cut my arm and my head was bashed against a tree. I knew I would be dead, but the blades didn't hit me. Then they did, then they didn't. I realized the blades hit me if I let them. I said "No."


 * The scimitars retreated. They couldn't come close to me. Mother made an unearthly sound, a sound of vengeance not being complete. With a final cry, she vanished.


 * I was sent to the mental asylum for "cutting myself". I told this same story a hundred times. They deemed me crazy and conducted tests on me. I am barely sane, and I am starved, without water, without hope. I know I'll be dead soon. And I will have my revenge. Why? Because, it runs in my blood, or so says the mark on my shoulder.