When I died My shadow decided they would take over I watched carefully Knowing I could not brace for what my shadow would do Knowing I couldn’t apologize for all they would hurt

They spoke crudely They did not hold back their emotions

Even though I was dead I had never felt so alive in my body They spoke crudely But they spoke the truth Something I could not do myself

I admired that I wish I had lived that way

Now I have realized I am the true shadow I was the one hiding from myself When really The one following me Was the one who should have lead

Maybe I would’ve lived happier if I had lived Speaking my truth To be bold like my shadow knew I never could have

When I died, my shadow decided they would take over. But this isn’t my story. It’s my shadow’s. So I’ll hand it over to them.

My name is Shade. I used to be nothing but a shadow. But when my person died, everything changed. At first, I was confused by everything. But soon, I realized that I had shadow powers.

I didn’t know what to do, so…I stole my person’s life. I went to school. Everyone thought I was a ghost. I pretty much am. I didn’t mind until kids started bullying me just because I was a ghost. “Hey, look! It’s Shade the weirdo!” I just sighed. Later, it happened again. “Come back here, you little freak!” I turned around. Slowly. “And just who do you think you are?” I blurted. “Oh, look, the thing can **talk!”**The bully-Brad-teased.

“Oh, so that’s how you want to play?” I whispered. I dashed towards him, and as he stumbled backwards, I fluttered straight into his shadow. _“Ugh, this thing is nasty!” _My voice echoed. “H-Hey! My shadow isn’t g-gross!” Brad stuttered. _“Well, you’re not the one who’s inside it,” I whispered. _ __ __ Days later, no one dared mess with me after what happened to Brad. “H-Hey! Careful what you say round Shade!” I heard someone say. Tee-Hee. I love my life. Even though I pretty much stole it. Eh. I don’t care.

_Sequel Coming Soon! _

It started with a old dying man. His shadow was by the man’s side his hole life, like a good little puppy. The shadow was sick of it.

         The shadow was glad the old man was reaching the end of his life for it hade a plan. 

         When the old man finally dyed it took over the body. The shadow was finally free. The enslavement of the shadows would be over soon. 

          It moved from person to person. The shadow’s hatred fueled it. It cursed the humans that saw it with death allowing there shadow to take over.

         The humans called them Shadow People. 

         The army of Shadow People where steadily growing and in a few decades the Shadow People would outnumber the humans. Humanity will fall, and shadows will rule.

JACK

I, from an early age, had always been fascinated by the idea of death and rebirth. I wondered if someone could die and truly become anew. I suppose my adoptive parents, who were Christians, brought on my fascination with the concept of rebirth. For they said you could become a new person with Christ—our dear lord and savior.

So why did I see people make the same mistakes? I thought back, only then, that the only true way to come anew, was to die.

And death calls all to its power.

——

I wake up to a warm, sweet smelling breath against the shell of my ear. On any other occasion, I would have pushed Adon away and scolded him for once again coming into my room without permission, but I just don’t have the mood for it now. My mind is thinking over what had happened last night with the woman.

I hadn’t been able to immobilizer like I had planned to after seeing her there, eyes wide and crazed. She was much stronger than I had expected and ran off before even Thomas could lay a hand on her.

“Why must the interesting things be so far from my reach?” I ask myself softly. Adon stirs at my voice; his eyes stay closed, but his head moves to rest on my chest.

Strong smells comes wafting through my room, tingling my nose. Eggs and the sweet smell of bacon. Or maybe human meat, I don’t have a nose like Thomas. It seems that the others are awake.

“Adon,” I rise and his head slides off from me and lands, bouncing for a second after contacting, on the mattress, “Wake up.”

I roll my eyes when he does the opposite. He reaches out a hand and sleepily grabs my blanket and pulls it over his shoulder, tucking himself back in. I’m about to pull it off when Holland bursts through the door. His hair is groomed as normal, but his cheeks are oddly flushed, eyes wide.

“Jack! Th-there’s an investigator here!”

I blink. Adon hadn’t informed me about this—that was a first. But maybe this is something that was purposely not mentioned to him. Maybe they’re beginning to suspect us.

Well, always assume the worst.

I stand and walk to Holland, who I realize is not shaking, instead still. I kiss his forehead reassuringly; the most important thing is that I have a part to play and if it is done incorrectly, everything that I’ve planned for is done. That is why I must sooth them—they have a part to play as well. That’s the only reason their still here.

Holland sighs, cheek resting against my chest. “Here’s the plan, Holland, and listen carefully. If you mess up one part, we are all done.”

I am done. And I, of course, am the most important factor.

——

SADIE

Sending me straight to their apartment complex is the stupidest thing that Chief has done. But sadly, I’m not the one who makes orders around here.

My new partner, Diane Young, twitches beside me—the moment we told her what this mission was about, she’s been like this. She has a reason to, though. Getting assigned to a serial killer case for your first one isn’t exactly ideal.

My attention snaps back to alert as the door yawns open. Standing behind it is a sleepy looking Black man is an oversized shirt with a disfigured image and large pants. His hair is adorned with curls cut closely to his head, and his nose looks crooked, eyes wide even when lidded.

So this is Adon Freeman.

He rubs his eyes, looking at me and Young, before straightening and clearing his throat. “So, what is this for? Did I forget to submit something in the office.” My mouth opens to answer, but he speaks again. “Well I’ve never seen you two before, so that can’t be the case.” He mutters to himself after this. Then a blond man comes up behind him, putting his hands on Adon’s shoulders and smiling at us.

“I’m sorry for him, he just woke up and we were busy making breakfast,” the blonde, Holland Smith, opens the door wider and lets us inside. “So, what are you here for?”

I look around the surprisingly clean from, Young as well. Nothing appears to be out of the ordinary, and they don’t have a basement. But I know from previous cases, you don’t need a basement to commit a murder—and hide someone. I turn back to Holland, who is busy stroking Adon’s head while the latter still struggles to wake up fully. Holland’s smile is gone and his face is pale; his movements are jerky and stiff.

It seems that they do have something worth searching for.

“My name is Sadie Quail,” I pull out my badge, Young does as well, introducing herself in the process, “Private Investigator of the GPD, and I am searching for Penny King who disappeared from her cell in the Flain Asylum about a month ago.”

“You’re welcome to look anywhere you want, but I will tell you that Jack is in his study and that Thomas is out,” Holland starts stroking Adon faster and faster. Adon’s nose flares from what seems to be pain, but he looks up at Holland’s expression and says nothing. “Can I get you any water?”

“And I will. Thank you for your offer, but I will have to decline.” I nod my head towards Young, who seems more confident. “Let’s start in the kitchen.”

——

AUBREY

I look up at the winding stairs above me, to see two women in police uniforms enter the apartment; I know I shouldn’t have followed the men after they had nearly tried to kill me, but I couldn’t help myself.

My ITCH—such an itchy ITCH. It wants to be scratched.

——

Author’s Note: My hands are acting up again. If you read my other posts about Judges of Man, you know what’s happening. If you haven’t, it’s fine, or you can read the other ones (there are only three and they’re not that long) if you really want to know. Tell me what you think. Imma think of a new character soon who’s going to be like on neither side. For my The Disordered story—they’ll come back soon, I swear.

Thanks for reading and have a wonderful day!

“When you die,” my shadow whispered in my mind, “I will take over. You will have no control over what happened when I do. I could kill everyone you love, burn this very house down. But until then, I will wait.”

It acted as if my body would give out any day now. I’m a woman in my late twenties. I’ve never had any major surgery, any major medical problems. I work out, eat healthy. There is no reason this parasite should be in my mind.

Month turned into years, and the words my shadow spoke grew angrier. To solve its problem, it decided to try and use my body in my sleep. After many failures, it continues to try and kill me during the night. Sometimes I wake up on the roof of my apartment. Sometimes I am in the kitchen, hand outstretched toward the knives. My shadow seemed to not realize I am an extremely light sleeper.

Until I woke up in a hospital bed.

My vision is blurred, but I can recognize the white and turquoise colors of nurse and doctor uniforms. Commands are yelled from one person to another. Bright fluorescent lights blind me.

“Goodnight, Avery.” Its voice pierced me, adding more to my sensory overload. “Sleep well. Have sweet dreams.”

The world around me quiets down. The bright whiteness around me fades to black.

The sound of a heart monitor flatlining doesn’t bring me back.

Shadow Hallow Mellow Yellow Somewhere Nowhere Beware No care Light Bright Sight Fright Dark Lark Start Smart

When I died,
my shadow decided that they would take over.

All I can do is churn in my grave.

As my shadow takes over my life like a dark cloud looming over a beach.

Dark movements, dark thoughts.

Speechless, with lips but without a mouth.

Does the shadow have my thoughts?

In all this time as my shadow,

They have had no choice but to look forward.

Always behind me.

Observation was surely their only hobby.

Matching my habits perfectly.

Resembling me only when the lights are off.

My shadow sleeps in my bed, with the lights on, While I sleep in my grave, with the lights off.

My soul left the world my shadow cast my life force like a hauting ghost over old haunts.

The shadow interacted with the shadows of cars where Road bus is where I sat places She a ghost where I cooked or ate

In the sunlight among the trees in the shadows Russell among the Windy breeze

Among the neon lights of the gambling casinos love mother the shadow dances in the moonlight

It is happy and joyful sad ever living

In my life, I was light Sugared scones, yellow chalk, and joy A world that felt inexplainable right

But then— The sound of a gunshot caused the scones to rot washed away the yellow chalk hammered the joy away

Within my bleeding corpse Within the rotting scones the filthy water the rusted hammer

A sprout of dark formed Pure, unbridled fury and betrayal Rewrote me in dark ink

I leave my killer drenched in blood Begging for his life in the midst of agony

“Why am I not satisfied?” I ask the darkness

_You have not properly gotten your revenge, _He explains.

He leads me to my childhood home I leave my mother and father engulfed in flames Our puppy yelping in pain smothered in ashes

I stand in front of the vermillion haze

“Why am I not satisfied?” I ask the darkness

_You have not properly gotten your revenge, _He explains.

So I leave the world in a storm of flames Letting it rot just as it had done to me Washing it away Hammering at it until it is nothing Just as I am

Once it is gone I stand in the midst of the void

“Why am I not satisfied?” I ask the darkness

He does not answer this time

“Okay I understand Rory. Let me tell you one last bedtime story. Once long long ago there were two worlds living side by side. One world the day world was much like this world only brighter with the sun always shining. In all shades of gray, the other was a night world of magical moonlight.

“Between day world and night world, there was peace for a while. Inhabitants of either land could travel and trade even fall love and marry. But people are what people are, Rory. Even then there was petty jealousies. Envy is evergreen and misunderstandings as common as weeds. An accusation of theft, childish street fights, tempers flared over and over especially at the edge of the worlds.

“I can’t say who was at fault, Rory. Time has worn away the names and faces, but I do know armies fierce from both sides amassed along the dusk line. Border towns in the night world were burned mysteriously. Cannon fire from above rained on the day world cities.

“Finally in a dreadful battle the night world captured the day world sun and held it for ransom. Fortunately, Rory, calmer heads prevailed. Elders negotiated for peace. The sun was returned after the ransom was paid.

“I knew you would ask that. The ransom for the ever burning sun was that the worlds would be sealed from each other forever and everything from the night would be returned to the realm of the night. That meant everything night Rory had to leave the day, the night treasures, the art, the magic, and the night people.

“Now there was a good-hearted tailor of the day married to a night seamtress. She was torn from him and no amount of crying would allow either side to allow them to live together in any world. If the day world broke its treaty with the night world the day would forfeit its sun and its realm to the night.

“As luck would have it, the tailor had not always been a tailer. Once he was a juvenile delinquet, who used to smuggle illicit goods between the worlds. What, oh ask your mother when she gets home?

“Somehow the tailor slipped into the night world to find his love. With night world magic his beloved seamtress stitched herself to the tailor and slipped to the other side. The next morning in the day world the first shadow appeared. That’s right. It was an emissary from the night looking for proof the day world broke the treaty.

“The next day and the next, shadows appeared. From the smallest mouse to the tallest tower, Rory. Everything was casted a shadow, an agent on the hunt. With a every passing hour, dark crept deep. into the day world for hours each day. Fearing another war, the day world inhabitants pretended shadows had always been there. When the night seeped in the day world made sure to sleep to pretend not to notice.

“This became the way of the world. The night magic seamtress and her good-hearted tailor were never caught and their descendants remember the truth and hold a thimble of night magic deep inside. But that is why when you go to bed, you must stay in bed until the safety of morning. The night is always searching to take back what is theirs. Sleep tight, Rory.”