by John Sharp
Chapter 5 – Dances With Watchers
“Why is this here?” I demand, pointing at the diamond resting on my dresser and glaring at my shadow’s dark silhouette on the wall. can still be felt but its power is dormant. The same can’t be said of my shadow.
“Because you took it, fool,” my shadow answers, completely unconcerned by my anger. In fact, he seem to be enjoying it.
“I didn’t mean to take it! Did you make me do it?” I shout nearly incoherently at him. My rage at the situation is boiling over. I feel so used and betrayed that I want to do nothing more than shift his presence so far away that I never have to see him again. He just grins at me. That grin holds a secret malevolence that just pisses me off even more. Whisper, who has always enjoyed insulting my shadow is oddly quiet, watching the argument unfold.
“My, such lovely anger. Hmm, I haven’t felt this good in a long while,” my shadow taunts, a ripple spreading across his dark surface. He is definitely feeding off my anger and it pisses me off even more.
“Just go!” I yell. “I don’t want to see you right now!”
My shadow laughs. Morphing into a dark cloud he zips out under the front door. Fuming I stare as the spot where he had been, hands clenched.
“Shifter…” Whisper says softly, as if he’safraid I am going to explode at him next. I instantly feel like an ass. Scooping him up into my arms, I press my face against his.
“Don’t let that fecal cloud get to you, Jerry,” Brick says forming out of the wall next to me.
“Yeah, I know…” I say with a sigh, holding onto Whisper tightly as if his presence can solve everything. I feel like my world is collapsing. I want nothing more than the emptiness of sleep. Lying down on my bed with Whisper still in my arms, I try not to think as I patiently wait for the sweet embrace of sleep. It takes me a long time to fall asleep; dark thoughts and possibilities chase me the entire time.
I wake up feeling marginally better, with a sleeping Whisper resting next to my head. Smiling at his sleeping form I feel the remainder of my dark mood vanish. I should just enjoy what I have and not worry about vague possibilities regarding my shadow. Curious if my shadow has returned yet I scan the room. I find him near the diamond nearly as black as he is. Resolving not to worry about him I leave Whisper sleeping on my pillow and go into the kitchen. I just start to mix the ingredients for ham and eggs together when Brick’s face morphs out of the wall next to me.
“Morning, Brick,” I say, pausing in my breakfast preparations to hand him a piece of quartz.
Quickly devouring his treat he gives me a wide, toothy grin. “Morning, Jerry. You feel better today?”
“Yeah.”
I begin humming a soft tune as I pour my egg mixture into the pan. The sizzling of eggs and the normalcy of cooking helps me relax. I just finish cooking when Whisper hops on the kitchen counter, his nails clinking on its surface.
“That smells good, Shifter,” he says, tail twitching in anticipation. Smiling, I place a large scoop onto a plate and set it before him. Purring in delight Whisper takes small nibbles at the edges. Sitting next to him I eat my own portion, groaning in pleasure. Twenty minutes later I feel full and content with the world. My satisfied feeling is so great that the events of last night no longer seem important. When my shadow joins us I find that I have already forgiven him.
“What will we do today, Shifter?” Whisper asks. I think for a moment. “Well, I’ll give the lawyer a call and see what’s happening. But until that is all cleared up, we wait.” I pause, looking critically at Whisper, “And give you a bath. Then we thoroughly clean this place and go out and grab a meal.”
Later I exit a local diner with a satisfied Whisper on my shoulder. I like this particular diner since, as long as I tip well, they allow Whisper on the table. Suddenly I see a dishevelled = woman zoom past me. She is barefoot and dressed in filthy pajamas. She doesn’t give me or the patrons of the restaurant a single glance. This is trouble. This woman isn’t out for a morning jog or escaping an insane boyfriend. Turning I see a large pack of watchers pursing her. She’strapped in another world. What makes things even weirder is that she is Officer Clifford; the woman I met at my mother’s death scene.
I am so surprised by her sudden appearance that I just stand there agape as Clifford runs through a building and out of my line of sight, her light blonde hair flowing behind her. It isn’t until the watchers sprint past me that I make sense of the situation. Somehow Clifford got sucked into another world. She is going to die unless I do something fast. Spurred into action I sprint after the pack of watchers, trying to come up with some kind of plan.
“What’s going on?” Squeaks an anxious Whisper from my shoulder, struggling to stay on.
“Watchers are chasing a human in your world,” I shout between heaving breathes. Luckily there’sonly light foot traffic today. I still have to dodge cars, street posts and the occasional homeless man, failing miserably to close the distance. The watchers are not only faster than me, they also don’t have to avoid all the obstacles in the human world like I have too. “So what?,” my shadow says, drifting after me.
“Well of course you don’t care,” Whisper says. “But Shifter is better than you. Let’s go to the other world. You can ride me there. You will never catch them like this.”
Hesitating for only a moment, I shift us to the same world as the watchers. The human world fades into a hazy background like a dream, replaced by the lush green world of Whisper. This place is completely devoid of the touch of man, radiating with natural beauty. Returning to his original size I quickly mount Whisper. Then we are off, pursuing a dozen watchers hunting a human.
How the hell did she get here? I hope I manage to rescue her to find out. But more than that I need to know if I’m truly crazy. Despite everything I’ve experienced part of me wonders if the world I see is really in my head. This is a chance for definite proof that Whisper, my shadow and the other worlds are real and that I am not crazy.
Pushing my stray thoughts aside I yell at Whisper as we rapidly gain on the watchers. They are too intent on their prey and fail to notice. “Whisper, I’ll be here but you might not be able to see me! Trust me!”
“Of course, Shifter,” Whisper replies and I smile.
Whisper leaps, his front claws extended for the rear most watcher. For a creature that has so many eyes, they don’t really pay attention very well. Whisper’s claws tear deeply into the raised hump of flesh many of its eyes exploding under the impact and the hump crumbles like tissue paper under his weight. It gives a high pitched wail of death that attracts the attention of the others. They break off pursuit of Clifford, scattering around us.
Their eyes roll sporadically in all directions, seeking out all possible threats. Not giving them a chance to regroup Whisper leaps at another, his mouth wide. Back peddling a step the watcher is too slow as Whisper clamps down on its soft, fleshy hump. It gives a death squeal as Whisper lifts it into the air, shaking it back and forth like a mean dog with a squirrel. Blood sprays on his white fur, bathing it crimson as the group of watchers gathers together, facing Whisper.
Whisper can’t take on that many watchers by himself. But I am here and while physically I might be weak I can wreak havoc in my own unique way. I make one quick check on the woman. If she dies, anything else is pointless.
She lays exhausted beside a large rock, breathing heavily. Her eyes widen in terror as she watches a pack of hunters she’s never seen before take on an immense white ferret with a boy riding him. Seeing enough I shift back to the human world, keeping my sight focused here. Immediately the jungle setting recedes to a faint outline as I reappear in the middle of an empty baseball diamond. A dry wind blows in my face as I scramble to the first watcher. Laying my hands on him through reality I shift it all the way down to the farthest world so I couldn’t even see it anymore. It will be dead in a few min
utes. I repeat this two more times and I can see the confusion growing in the watchers’ yellow eyes. Not only are they being attacked by a huge ferret but three of their number simply vanished as if blown away forever by the wind. They are on the verge of running when my shadow appear before them, a dark angel of death. Regardless of his claim of indifference he falls upon two more watchers, covering them in his inky darkness, dissolving their entire essence with a fizzing sound that reminds me of shaken bottle of pop. The rest flee, scattering in all directions making strange yipping sounds as they run for their lives.
I let out a sigh of relief and turn to Whisper and the frightened woman. At this point she is on the brink of madness herself. I can’t even imagine what she has been through. She had to watch the world as she knew it disappear and get plunged into a realm of chaos. When you’re running for your life such things are easy to ignore but now the unreality of the situation has come crashing down upon her.
Tears fall from her eyes, wetting her cheeks and long eyelashes as she looks upon me with absolute terror. She’s a mess. She’s wearing light blue pajamas with dolphins artfully displayed on the top and bottom. Blood, dirt and an unidentified clear, sticky film cover the majority of her vestige and she has the look of a frightened animal. I can’t say how long she’s been here but it has to have been a least a day. I’m amazed she had survived this long.
“Whisper, shadow stay where you are. We don’t want to frighten her anymore.”
“Oh why not? Her fear is delicious. You were right to spare her, Shifter. This is far more satisfying than simply watching them eat her. Her pain would have been brief now it can last her entire life,” my shadow says, forming a dark silhouette near me. Clifford’s eyes bulge at the dark figure. Trembling all over and whimpering slightly she stares at my shadow. I can almost see her mind getting ready to snap like a fraying rope holding a great weight. Encouraged by her obvious display of fear my shadow laughs, surging forward like a dark cloud passing around her. She gives a high pitch squeal of terror as the large rock she rested against is coated in utter darkness, does an undignified scramble away. For a second I think she might get up and run, instead she collapses both mentally and physically, curling into a tight ball and rocking back and forth as she sputters out bits of nursery rhymes in an unsteady, sobbing voice.
“Look at what you did, you stinking parasite from a pigs anus!” Whisper declares hotly, glaring at my shadow. The fact that a giant ferret just insulted a shadow didn’t even register with the woman. She is too far gone now.
“What did you just call me, you worm infested mole spawn?” My shadow says, swelling before us like a brewing storm.
“Enough!” I yell. “Shadow, go to the real world until we return. Whisper, come here and help me with her.”
My shadow seems indignant at the command but a single look at the woman is enough to give him a wide, happy grin. “Fine,” he says. “I doubt she will be any more fun for a while anyways.” With that he vanishes across realities, leaving me and Whisper to deal with the mess he made.
“Whisper, don’t speak until I tell you. She is on the brink of insanity, if she hasn’t done a face dive into it already. Just do what I say and follow my lead.”
Whisper gives a nod of understanding and follows me as we slowly approach Clifford. She just lays there unaware of anything, rocking back and forth as she hugs her legs to her chest so tightly that her arms tremble from the effort. Kneeling next to her, I gently stroke her hair.
“It’s ok,” I say and keep repeating it for several minutes. After a long time, long enough that I am afraid we might be found by other predators, her crying eases a bit. I don’t want to shift her as she is right now, her mind is too fragile but if something attacks I might have no choice. Finally, she lifts her head off her chest, looking directly at me. Although her face is dirty her eyes are puffy from crying she has an innocent beauty that one just doesn’t see too often. In a trembling, barely functional voice, she asks me the question I had been waiting for. “Is it real?”
I want to lie to her. To tell her it’s all in her mind. That shortly she will wake up in her bed and the monsters will be gone. But they won’t be gone, not now, not ever. “Yes,” I answer simply. She gives a brief nod and passes out.
