The Shadowverse

by Francesca Gallo

  “Jane!”

  “What?” she shrieked. At first, she had thought her mind had fooled her, but the ominous reality was exactly the opposite. “Is there anyone here?”

  “Come and see,” it whispered, its tone deepened.

  “Who are you?” she questioned, her body already shaking.

  The voice changed into a figure. It rose straight out of the floor like a serpent and stood to the ceiling. “I want to help you.” As if on cue in conjunction with her growing fear, the piercing eyes of her intruder deepened to a devilish crimson.

  “Why?”

  “I have seen your destiny—what you can achieve. Your powers, born from Ooris, can aid the universe—much like mine.”

  “Ooris? What’s that?”

  “The true source of your gifts. And once you master it, you can accomplish an extraordinary number of feats, all with my guidance.”

  She suddenly felt bolder. “I won’t take any advice from a shadow.”

  Her intruder let out a low, deep laugh. “Incredible—this is the world The Shadows saved,” the figure spoke, his eyes not focused on her, but rather her window and the city beyond. But then, he fixed back on her. “And we shall see about that, Jane Cooper.”

  With that ending statement, the figure and the voice that accompanied it vanished.

  Jane flew out of bed as if her life depended on it. She picked up her phone from her dresser. Without thinking, she dialed the one person she believed could help, although their acquaintance had been quite early in development.

  ~~~

  In his apartment and sitting up in his bed, Johnny had been processing it all. He was still awake when his phone rang violently. He looked at the call number and realized it was Jane.

  “What the hel ?” he said to himself, furrowing his brow. He immediately picked it up.

  “Hello? Jane? Are you all right?”

  “I’m sorry, Johnny. Were you sleeping?”

  “What? Uh, no, actually. I-I wasn’t.” He gazed through the window at the serene, silent urban landscape.

  “Good. Because you’re going to need to be awake for this.”

  “Huh? Wait, don’t tell me it’s the mystery man.”

  “I wish that’s al it was.”

  He paused. “I’m on my way.”

  CHAPTER 5

  HIGHER CALLING

  Jane looked up from her bathroom mirror at the sound of Johnny’s knock. She had just clothed herself again when Johnny rang on the door. “I’m coming!” she cal ed, rushing to open the creaky entrance.

  Johnny smiled and waved once, awkwardly. She welcomed him inside.

  “I am sorry,” Jane started. “I shouldn’t have had you come al the way here. I just…I needed to see someone. I was feeling crazy,” she said, tumbling her fingers together before tucking her hair behind her ears while periodically glancing to Johnny. Her heart was racing. She was embarrassed for calling him, and yet she was happy to see him.

  Johnny frowned. “Don’t apologize. It’s my pleasure, Jane.”

  In response to his kindness, she simply nodded, chestnut bangs slightly dancing with each. Her body language spoke for itself.

  “Wow, nice place you got here,” he said as he looked around inside the abode, his dirty blonde hair flowing lightly in the breeze from her open window. “It’s even nicer than mine.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been working on it. I’m considering adding a flower pot on the window sil ,” she pointed. “I just hope I can keep it healthy.”

  “Oh, OK. Super,” he acknowledged. “So, what happened?” he asked, turning his head to her bed. It was a cute little thing, perfect for one person.

  “Oh! Sorry, I almost forgot why you were here,” she replied.

  Johnny watched as her eyes searched frantical y for something. This had been made obvious by the way she bit her lip. “You OK?” he asked as she glanced up. “You look like you need something.”

  “What? Oh, sorry. I just really need a coffee right now,” she answered. “Do you want some?”

  Ignoring the last part of her sentence, he blazed over to the counter and started the coffee machine. Then he came right back.

  “Oh! OK, I was not expecting you to do that,” she said.

  “Yeah! You could say—”

  “That you made it in a flash?” she cut in.

  “Haha, hilarious,” he replied, sitting on the chair near her small table. The apartment surprised him; she had more amenities than he did. They were strewn about the glass table, which sat in the cute, practical kitchen. Behind some loose furniture were windows, which provided a decent view of the world outside, were directly across from the kitchen.

  “OK, jokes aside, because I must speak.”

  Johnny crossed his arms over the table. “All ears.”

  So, she explained what had gone on only fifteen minutes earlier. “Well, it all started with this voice. It called to me by my name.” Johnny felt his hair standing on end as she

  elaborated further.

  “Did it do anything else?” he asked.

  “No, just that…I do remember he said I had a destiny, and he’s seen it.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, and he mentioned some stuff about my powers. He said they were sourced in something. I just can’t remember…I was total y freaked out.”

  “You had a right to be. I would be too.”

  She shook her head, trying her best to summon the memory. “I don’t know.”

  Johnny gulped. His heart jackhammered underneath. “What’s the thing you most remember?”

  Jane cogitated the suggestion. What had stood out most? Then, she recal ed it. The eyes. “I—I remember its eyes.”

  Gulping again, Johnny prodded further. “What do you mean? What about its eyes?”

  They were burned into her memory, the devilish red that gleamed terror. “They were glowing red. But no typical red. It’s like they were coming to get me. Like they spoke.”

  Like they spoke, Johnny pondered. “That’s crazy.”

  “Yeah, it was”—she tilted her head up to think of how to best explain it—

  “otherworldly.”

  “Otherworldly? Don’t you think that’s a little, uh, over the top?” he replied.

  “Johnny, I’ve just met you, but even you know that this entire day has been over the top insane.”

  “You’re not wrong on that one.” There was a beautiful silence, characterized by Johnny’s stare at the opened window, his eyes far away. Deep down he felt that this was not the last they would see of Jane’s intruder. It might be the beginning of something. Something he was not assured he prepared for.

  “Well, that’s basical y everything that went down,” she said. “Anything else?”

  He glanced her way. For some odd reason, her expectant expression was very intimidating. “I think whatever is in store, I’m excited for it.”

  “Real y? Your powers aren’t scary? You don’t feel different and cut-off?”

  “I’ve only had them for a few hours, but I actual y don’t feel that way. How can I? I see the world in a new light. And plus, it’s good to be different. Only people who think differently change the world.”

  She nodded, eyes far away. “Those are…wise words. Something my grandparents would say.”

  “You loved them.”

  “Yes. They treated me like I was their daughter—well, technically I was, just their granddaughter. I know a lot of people say this but they were one-in-a-million. We would go out to the movies together, picnics, or even just plain do nothing together. My favorite memories are those. We would all read a book and not speak whatsoever. But it’s like we were speaking. Our minds were in touch with each other. It was so, so wonderful.”

  Johnny grinned in understanding. “That sounds great, I’m sorry.”

  This time, she looked him in the eyes. “Thank you. For everything.”

  He smiled. Along with it, the ambience of the room transformed. And not in a bad way. A way he ha
d not sensed since his high school years. “You don’t have to thank me

  —I never would have left you there by yourself. Well, to be honest, you probably would have knocked him to kingdom come anyway.”

  She laughed, her dimples quite noticeable. “But you stil did it, so thanks.”

  At that moment, Johnny quickly checked the time. It was very late. “I’m sorry, Jane, but I’m really tired. Tomorrow wil be another wild one.”

  As if instinct, she jumped up and headed over to the door. “Sorry, you’re right. I need sleep too.”

  He slipped his jacket back on. “In case something else happens, call me—or any of us—OK?”

  “OK.” She led him to the door and he bid goodbye. But he was not so fast.

  In the doorway, he turned to face her again, features altered in a serious way. “If anything happens, let me know.” She nodded twice. “Promise?”

  Her eyes went wide, clearly caught off guard by the usage of the word. “I promise,”

  she nodded again. He did as wel before he expressed a little smile.

  Closing the door and shutting the light, she resumed her earlier activities—that being a much-needed sleep, though occasional y she opened her eyelids to check if any unwelcome visitor resembling the intruder stood there malevolently.

  If a guy in an al ey and some dreadful y large intruder were the spark to turn her life around, so be it.

  ~~~

  Johnny Sparks walked to the hal way window to take in the scene, the few variegated lights dipping the hallway of the apartment complex floor in dim colors. It lightly rained in the Big Apple, which now seemed a whole lot bigger.

  You wanted to reach the stars. You wanted to go beyond them. Maybe you won’t be an astronaut, but you are special.

  He tilted his gaze upward and made out a sprinkle of stars through the lights. In that moment, he lost himself in wonder. The time came. For now, though, he would not bring his father into the situation. Not yet, at least.

  As he soaked in the beauty of the nightlife, his thoughts drifted to the future; but also, to the one who had mentioned it.

  I am the future.

  Those eerie words had struck a chord in him. He shook his head in the vacant hallway. “I am the future,” he repeated, trying to make sense of it. Had this whole thing been staged? he wondered. It was possible. The aura the stranger gave off was unlike anything he ever experienced.

  And yet, not even he seemed to make his spine tingle. The figure Jane described burned itself in his mind. All he could imagine were two crimson eyes staring back, always watching, always waiting.

  His thoughts continued to drift to the horizon—that this day would go down in infamy.

  Whatever it brought, he was excited about it.

  CHAPTER 6

  POWERS

  Despite the deep sleep he had been blessed with that night, Ryan woke up sweating like a race horse at 7:30 on that Saturday morning—he was shaking, too. His radio unforgivably played “Heroes” by David Bowie.

  As the sunlight basked the room in light, his eyes popped open. He sat up on the side of the bed, contemplating the events of the night before. Across the way, he could hear his mother snoring away. He exhaled, got up, and teetered to her room. Bethany Slade slept longer than bears in winter.

  He checked in the room to make sure everything looked right. There lay his mother, snoring under the covers. A sliver of sunlight found its way through the window blinds, il uminating a single spot on her dresser. It caught his eye. The photograph.

  Ryan gulped and tensed in beautiful sync. In the photo stood a much younger Ryan, Bethany, and his father, Jerry. Stay calm, he directed his emotions, staring at the tiny picture frame from several feet away. He found himself lost in the past.

  He stood there longer than he should have. Releasing a breath, he closed the door without making a noise. Even then, though, he did not move, back leaning next to the doorframe. “I love you, Dad,” he whispered, not knowing where to lay his eyes. “I always will.”

  With that, he walked into his room and made the bed. The radio continued to blare the wonderful track.

  We can be heroes, just for one day.

  Ryan gazed at it. “Hmm, good music.” When he looked at himself in the mirror, though, he was horrified. The usual large frame was replaced with a seven foot, metal ic-colored body. It covered even his face. “Ah!” he shrieked as he stumbled back, nearly into the wal .

  “H-H-Holy shit!” he whispered, afraid. Now powers would be added to the already behemoth of a list of fears. Hopeful y, though, the phobia would not last long.

  He shook profusely but could not stop. Why am I so freaked out, damnit? he thought.

  Receiving powers definitely rocked one’s world, but not this.

  He swore a string of expletives. His body felt much heavier and stronger. Stomping like the Hulk over to the phone, he dialed Johnny, who did not pick up.

  “Hi, you’ve reached Johnny Sparks. I’m sorry I couldn’t get to your cal , but I’l make sure to call you back as fast ”— Ryan heard the emphasis on fast and held a deadpan expression— “as I can.”

  Typical. “Johnny! You got to pick up!” he squealed. “I think I’ve got my, uh, I-I think my powers are here! Pick up! I’m cal ing Dustin and Sam right now!” he spoke into the phone. Ryan sounded like a mix of some knife-blade being sharpened and his usual deep but lively voice. The reason for that was clearly unknown at the time.

  He hung up the phone. “Argh, does he never pick up?!” he said to himself. He hurriedly dialed Dustin, fumbling the cellphone. Such a simple activity proved difficult

  since his hands were substantially larger than before.

  ~~~

  “Why don’t we have powers yet?” Dustin said to Sam, who sat up in his bed at 7:00

  A.M.

  “How could I know? Maybe Johnny was the lucky one,” Sam replied, pushing his hands through the air as if waiting for the moment when something happens.

  “Dude what are you doing?” Dustin asked, perplexed.

  “Uh, what do you think?” he reacted as he put more effort into it.

  “Well you look really stupid doing it,” chuckled Dustin. “It’s like you’re trying to ram imaginary buttons.”

  “Whatever,” he sighed, standing up. “I’m going in the shower.”

  Grabbing a towel and some clothes, Sam ambled into the bathroom to shower. As he turned the heat up and stepped in, the water soaked him and warmed his cool skin. “Ah, that’s good.”

  Only moments later, he felt the water begin to cool off. He looked up at the shower head and squinted. Sam turned the dial further into the heat section. Nevertheless, the water continued to cool off and steam began to accumulate—it turned frigid awfully quick.

  “What the hel ?” he said as he spun the dial to ful , which, under normal circumstances, would make anyone scream. He cupped his hands and stepped out of the path of the shower. The water in his hands immediately froze. He froze too.

  ~~~

  In the kitchen, Dustin was frying eggs. Randomly looking over to the bathroom door, he raises his eyebrows at the extraordinary amount of steam escaping from the sliver on the underside. “Geez, man likes hell I guess.” Then he heard a scream. “Shit!” he exclaimed as he swiftly turned off the stove. As he ran toward the door, he accidentally slipped and fell, except he never fel . “Whoa crap!” he yelled as his feet went out from under him.

  Grimacing, he expected to feel the shock of his back landing on the floor. Realizing his body had never made contact with the ground and having an awareness of a strange sensation on his hands, he looked back to see that his hands somehow prevented his originally inevitable collapse. “What the hell?”

  As he extended his arms farther out, he slowly pushed himself back to an upright position. “Holy crap,” he ogled. “I can control the air.” He examined the power rush out of his hands like an exhaust pipe. A tsunami of goosebumps and shivers soon fol owed.

  Shi
t, shit, shit, he fretted. I have powers! What do I do?

  Hearing a smash, he ran straight to the bathroom door and opened it. Sam was right there.

  “I have powers!” they both screamed to themselves.

  “Whoa chil ,” uttered Sam. “What’s yours?”

  Dustin could not help but feel excited. “You go fir…what the hel why is it so damn cold?”

  “That,” he acknowledged, “would be my powers.”

  Dustin’s jaw dropped. “No way. Cold? Are you telling me that you’re Jack Frost?”

  “Uh, yes?”

  “Well, that would also explain that hair of yours.”

  “Wait, what?” Sam retorted.

  “You might want to look in the mirror,” motioned Dustin.

  Sam, with towels around his waist, stared into the mirror. “No!”

  “Sorry man,” he replied.

  “I look like a grandpa! White? Why?!”

  There was a ring at the door. Dustin turned to look. “It’s probably Mrs. Jankins.”

  “Great.”

  “Don’t worry, I got this covered.”

  He sauntered over to the door and asked, “Who knocks on this fine morning?”

  “Your neighbor, Dustin, your neighbor!” a perky voice cal ed back.

  Opening the door, Dustin’s view was a five-foot-tall old lady, wearing a pajama nightgown that had clearly seen better days. “What’s al the raucous? It’s not even eight yet!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry Mrs. Jankins, we were just” —he thought for a moment— “playing video games and, uh, trying to cook eggs.” He winced, internally kicking himself for how stupid an excuse that was.

  “Well, how about I help you out?” she offered.

  He laughed uneasily. “No, it’s fine! My grandmother taught me,” he said.

  “Oh yeah? What’s that sound in there?” she asked, referring to the eye-opening noise of breaking ice. He closed it suspiciously fast, now outside his abode.

  Dustin gulped. “We got a little, uh, pro—I mean, uh…” he stuttered, trying to think of more excuses. “I’m real y sorry Mrs. Jankins, but my eggs are going to burn up. Don’t want to set my kitchen on fire, you know.”