Everything in this world exists in two forms; there is the physical, tangible form we know from our day to day interactions, and then there is the shadow, the reflection, the negative of the physical form. Many spend their days meandering through life, never stopping to consider what may occur in the shadows. These people live their lives in blissful ignorance of the secrets the shadows hold. However, for most, this fact is a nonissue, as in reality, knowing the truth can be far more terrifying…
Sheila held her bag of groceries tight as she paused to look up at the sky. It was a dark night, but she could plainly see the storm clouds gathering above the city. With an ominous crackle of thunder, she knew she needed to hurry home. She was still several blocks from her new apartment, and she knew it would start raining well before she got to her door, so she decided to take a short cut she had learned recently. She laughed at herself as she strolled down into the alley.
“Wow, talk about a cliché… a girl on her own, in a dark alley, storm clouds in the sky… I feel like I’m in some cheesy horror film.” She laughed again. Sheila held herself confidently. She was a skilled athlete in college, having lead her volleyball and track teams to first place in their respective leagues, and while that had been four years ago, she still maintained her athletic physique. She also had a switchblade in her pocket, just in case.
“Nothing here, just like I thought. I guess even the crooks find this place to cliché to use.” She left the alley and continued toward her apartment; the alley route saved her several minutes off her normal commute from the grocery store, and she knew it well enough to doubt she would find trouble. She chuckled a little, thinking about how silly it was for her to be worried.
This is Adamant City, she thought, the crime rate is so low here that the chances of anything happening are tiny. Anyone who’d do anything is to scared of the Wrath of Magi to have the balls to try!
“My, you’ve got quite the skip in your step there, lady. Good day?” a voice commented from behind her. She turned and saw a short, friendly looking man leaning against the wall of the corner store, reading the paper. She smiled at him,
“Oh, I’m just enjoying a cliché heavy route home. It’s hard not to laugh at it.”
“Hah, yea, I know whatcha mean. Then again, what isn’t cliché heavy these days, eh?”
She laughed “Yea, I guess so. Well, nice talking to you, sir. I’d best get home before it starts raining; don’t want soggy groceries.” She waved and walked off, heading toward the alley up the block. Absorbed in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the man toss his paper to the side and slowly follow her. As she entered the alley, she made note of the flickering EXIT sign about halfway down. A stocky figure stepped out of the door just before she passed it. She couldn’t tell who it was, but she tensed up a little. The man didn’t pay her any mind until a familiar voice rang out from behind her,
“Hey, Ralph. Aren’t you gonna say hello to the lady? No need to be rude there, buddy.” The stocky man turned and put his hand on Sheila’s shoulder,
“Hello, lady. Have you met my buddy Vince?” he rumbled through a dim grin.
“Um… I have, I think. Would you please let go of me?” she asked, nervously…
“Don’t be so stuff, honey; we just wanted to chat with you…” Vince, the short man from the corner store, now stood on her other side. Sheila loosened her grip on her groceries and prepared herself to run, but was pinned against the wall of the building Ralph had come out of before she could react.
“Hey! What are you doing? Let me go!” she barked
“Ooh, feisty… just how I like ‘em,” Vince said with a cold grin, as he knocked her groceries to the side. She saw Ralph rummaging through her purse, but had her gaze forced back to Vince as he gave her a rather crooked grin. “So, speakin’ of clichés, eh…” He chuckled, “I hope you don’t plan on screaming or anything, there’s no one nearby that would hear you anyway.” She grimaced, because she knew he was right. The bar behind them was too loud for anyone inside to hear her, and the rest of the stores within earshot were closed for the night.
“I found her money, Vince, pretty good chunk, too.”
“Very nice! Now then, on to the fun part…” She gave him a vicious look when he reached to remove her shirt.
“What, no date first? You should at least treat me to dinner first.”
“Ha, don’t be a smartass, bitch. It won’t help your situation.” Vince had her firmly pinned, and even if she could get loose, the other guy would grab her before she got away. She was pretty sure Vince was wrong though, because she knew the area well enough to know that if she could buy some time, a patrol car would pass by soon.
“Wow, you must really be pretty sad if this is how you have to get your rocks off. How tiny is it? Three inches?” She forced out a confident giggle, “Not like any real man needs to force a girl to get into her pants.” She felt the sting of his punch before she realized what hit her, but she scoffed at him, “Oh please, my eight year old sister punches harder than you.”
“Fuck you, bitch! I’m gonna show you what kind of trash you really are”¼”
“Vince, you’re getting’ pretty worked up over there…”
“Shut it, Ralph.”
“Oh, so you’re the brains and he’s the dumb muscle, right? Sounds like a pretty bad deal to me. You know he thinks you’re an idiot, right Ralph?” Another punch, it hurt more than the last time, and she could taste blood in her mouth, but she knew her plan was working. “How’d he get you to work with him, Ralph? He promise you something? He’s not gonna give it to you, you’re just the muscle.”
“SHUT YOUR MOUTH!” She felt it in the gut this time, and she buckled forward, coughing, “Hah, not so tough now, are you?” Her pants were ripped off before she could catch her breath, and she started to worry some. She glanced at the street. “Oh? You’re waiting for the nightly patrol, ain'tcha bitch. Well, this particular officer has the night off tonight. There’s not going to be a patrol car near here for another eight hours. Tch,” he looked at Ralph, who seemed lost in thought, “Ralph, buddy, remember who we are. Don’t take the words of some smartass bitch over your friend.”
“Al- Alright Vince…”
Sheila was much more concerned now than she had been. She looked around to see if there was anything she could use to fight back, to defend herself… then she saw it.
“What, so you’re that pathetic that you need THREE people to handle ONE girl? Wow, I guess it’s even smaller than I thought…”
“Three? Do you suck at math, bitch? It’s just me and Ralph here, and we’re both going to have a lot of fun with you before anyone else shows up.” He let out a shrill laugh, and looked at Ralph, who seemed confused. “What? Are you still thinking?”
“No, V- Vince… Th- There ARE four shadows…”
“Come on now; you’re the money counter, I know you can count.” Vince turned and saw that there were, in fact, four shadows cast in the light of the EXIT sign. He recognized his own, Ralph's, and the woman’s, but the fourth one stood there, silently, as if there were a fourth person present. “What the hell? Must be some trick of the light. Ralph, go check and make sure we don’t have a guest.”
“Gotcha.” Ralph moved toward the source of the shadow, but there was no one there, “There’s nothin’, Vince. The sign must be broken.”
“You know, scum like you are the reason zealots like Magi flock to Adamant City.”
Both men snapped back to the shadow with the sound of the disembodied voice. Sheila, too, was shocked, and was entirely unsure what to think.
“Who’s there?!” Vince shouted, “Get out here, or I’ll kill this bitch!” Sheila felt a sudden pressing of metal against her neck that she recognized as a knife.
“A hostage? That’s even lower than I expected of you.” Their eyes widened as the shadow slowly stepped away from the wall, towards them. The details of a sturdy man in a ragged black trench coat and a worn down hat came into focus as the shadow melted away. “I’d suggest you let her go, unless you’d prefer to take her place.”
Vince laughed again, obviously shaken but trying to feign confidence. “Just who the fuck do you think you are? Just because you can do some fancy magic trick, doesn’t mean you’ve got what it takes to handle me and my buddy. Ralph!”
Ralph jumped towards the man, with a knife in his hand. In one fluid movement, he caught Ralph by the face and slammed him into the wall behind him. He shot Vince a rather intense scowl.
“Who do you think you are.” Only one of the man’s eyes could be seen, his right eye obscured by his hair, but his left eye was a sickly yellow color, and had a slit where it should have a pupil. The look it wore was so intense that Sheila felt like all the air had been forcefully sucked from her lungs. By the pale, shaking appearance of Jake, it wasn’t any better to be in direct line of that eye.
“Wha- Wha- What… What are you!?!?!” Vince stammered, “Are you some kind of freak? Monster!?” His knife left Sheila’s throat and aimed itself towards the man, but it shook — he shook — with pure horror of what could be hidden behind that eye.
“I’m just a concerned citizen,” the man chided, in a tone that sent a shiver down Sheila’s spine.
Vince glanced at Ralph’s limp figure and then back at the shadowy figure, “You- YOU! You- You’r- You’re him! The- The- You’re the Crim Reaper!”
Without shifting his gaze an inch, the man let out a great laugh, “Is that what they call me now? Haha, that’s horrible! Ah, oh man,” he wiped a tear away from his hidden eye, “The old hag warned me that would happen if I picked this name. Ah well, haha, nothing I can do about it now…” He moved and began to unbuckle the straps on his left arm, still laughing softly, and never letting his gaze leave Vince’s eyes.
Vince started to inch forward, and Sheila backward, trying to distance herself from what was about to happen.
“Miss, you might want to keep your head down,” He said to her, “because the Crimson Reaper’s Judgment is unbiased, and I’d rather not have you caught up in it by accident.”
Just as he said this, Vince lunged forward, to stab him. His hand caught the knife, and his stoic expression changed to bloodthirsty sneer. Sheila instinctively covered her head, and all she saw was a deep red flash, and then a thick, jet black cloud filled the air.
When she finally raised her eyes, she saw the two men hanging from the wall across from her, tied in red chains. They were both ghostly white, as if something had literally scared them to death. Beneath them, the words, Citizen’s Arrest, C.R. had been carved into the wall. She stared in disbelief of what had happened…
“Oye! Wha’s goin on out ‘ere?” she turned and saw the owner of the bar sticking his head out of the door next to her. She met his eyes and instantly covered up her legs. “My word! You ok there ‘un?” Sheila nodded slowly, and then looked up at the two men hanging from the wall. “G’dammit, tha’s the fourth time this week! Oye, Franky, call the cops up an’ tell ‘em we got another one. They do anythin’ to you ‘un? Osh, thassa nasty lookin’ shiner. Franky, call an ambulance too, got a victim this time.” The man then helped her up and led her inside.
September 2nd, 2039,
Dear Journal...
...do I really need to write “Dear Journal,” every time? That’s so cheesy. Meh. I’m only doing this because the doctor said to. I don’t believe her shit about it being good for me, but I’m sure she’s gonna want to check on it from time to time, so I best have at least a few entries. I may as well introduce myself to you…. Journal? Book? Paper? I’ll go with Paper Entity. So, Paper Entity. My name is Andy Ashling. It’s short for Andrew. I don’t like my name. I’m 14, and a Freshman in High School. Well, hardly, given it’s only the first week of school, but…
Nevermind that. I don’t want to turn this into some stream of consciousness drivel that they can use to say I’m insane or something. I’m supposed to write about something that happened this week… hmm…
Oh! I got it. How about the fact that the damn football meatheads have decided that I’m their new favorite toy? This week sucked. I’ve been shoved in lockers, trashcans, and worst of all, someone’s gym bag… blegh… School’s off to a great start, if you ask me! I hope the sarcasm is easily seen there… I’m not some friggin masochist… Meh. This is stupid.
Andy Ashling
While one must respect the shadows, and the power they hold, it would be prudent to not forget the power of the world in which we live. While the shadows hide and cower from the sun, the tangible forces at work create a more obvious effect. This reason explains why many are unaware of the shadows. Why worry, when the light shines so brightly?
Sergeant Bob Quill of the Altar City Police Department’s North District was as laid back as cops tend to come. He sat with his feet on his desk, calmly sipping his coffee as he read the day’s issue of the Altar City Gazette. He glanced at the headline, “‘Adamant’ City Crime Rate Hits All Time Low, Magi to Thank”
“Tch, Magi, huh? What’s that make us, huh?” He grumbled as he took a bite out of his donut, and continued to read quietly.
“You can’t deny he’s handy to have around, Serge. He scares a lot of the less ballsy idiots away from trying to pull anything off.” Bob glanced over his paper at the man speaking to him,
“Sure, so he can summon the power of nature and whatever other nonsense he does, but damn it Parker, he makes us look incompetent. Cops can’t do their own job, so they send some old guy with a book and a beard to do it. Tch.” Bob sighed, “I mean, they call this place ‘Adamant City’, because the Justice system here is so tight. WE earned the city that nick name. Not some old codger with a magic wand. I don’t see why we need him around.”
Parker, Officer Ralph Parker, responded apathetically, “Eh, if it means the wife and kids worry less, it’s fine by me.”
“Yea, but we didn’t all marry women with a temper like yours, Ralph.”
“At least I am married, Jack. You’re still a bachelor right? Then you don’t have room to talk!” Ralph snapped.
“Ha, you make it sound like I want to get married, buddy. I’m too young for the ol’ ball ‘n’ chain.” Jack chided. Bob glanced at Officer Jack Townsend. He was the rookie of their threesome, and had an ego to match his age.
“Jack, just because you’re working under Lieutenant Law Hammer, doesn’t mean you’ve earned the right to have that ego, why, when I was your age-” Bob was cut off mid sentence by the entrance of their superior officer, Lieutenant Lawrence “Law Hammer” Gavel. “What’s going on, Boss?”
The Lieutenant didn’t even glance at them as he put on his coat and continued toward the door, “Bank Robbery at the First Bank of Altar City. Get off your asses and get moving. We’ve got point.”
“Yes, sir!” the three men responded in unison, while scrambling to gather their coats, badges, and guns. They quickly followed the lieutenant to the squad cars and headed for the bank.
Bob sat quietly, watching his boss in the passenger seat of the car they shared. He and Lawrence had been in the same class at the academy, and had been in the same unit since they graduated. Lawrence’s abilities were what got him his position, but his personality was what kept him there. The man had a cold demeanor and no sense of humor, and every step he took made that clear. One step out of line in his district, and you were history. Of the city’s Lieutenants, he was by far the scariest, although even he was terrified of Captain Jameson, his own superior officer.
“You’d think they’d have all just given up by now, eh? Why keep trying between us and Magi?” Bob thought aloud, trying to start up a conversation with his old partner. The man said nothing, and continued to stare out the window silently. Bob shrugged. Lawrence had never been much of a talker. He grinned, remembering some of their stakeouts, where the man had remained silent for hours on end. Bob decided to try a different approach, “So how’s your brother doing, Boss?”
“He’s fine.” Bob waited for some kind of continuation, but to no avail. Unlike Lawrence, Max Gavel was a pretty lively fellow. He ran a pub that all of the city’s police loved. Bob decided to head there after his shift ended.
The Lieutenant was already mid step out of the car when they pulled up to the bank. Bob hated how he never waited for the car to stop, and had accidentally broken Lawrence’s ankles more than once because of that habit. The man has no patience, I swear, Bob thought to himself. He got out as well, and joined his Boss and the two younger officers as they were briefed on the situation. A crew of seven armed men had entered the bank half an hour earlier, and were now holding the people inside hostage, and making demands for immunity and freedom to leave.
“Nonsense. We don’t negotiate and they know that.” Lawrence commented, coldly. He took the megaphone from the man debriefing them and walked towards the doors of the bank. “Attention; this is Lieutenant Lawrence Gavel of the Altar City Police’s North District. You have five minutes to surrender yourselves peacefully, or I will be forced to call in…” he paused for a moment, and then continued with an icy tone, “…reinforcements.”
The air outside the bank fell still and heavy. Everyone knew exactly who he meant by “reinforcements,” and they weren’t sure how to feel about his reliance on the individual. They watched through the doors of the bank, as the seconds ticked by. The phone that the robbers were using to communicate rang. Bob managed to answer it before his boss could, knowing that hostage situations were not the man’s forte.
“Hello, this is Sergeant Bob Quill. Have you heard the Lieutenant’s message?”
“We have. We’re insulted that you find us so gullible. Tell the Lieutenant that if he has the nerve to open his big mouth again, we’re going to toss three hostages out to you guys in body bags.”
They hung up before Bob could respond. He gave the other men a concerned look, and then glanced towards Lawrence, who was silently staring at his watch. He had heard the call, and grinned at Bob. He tapped his watch, and made a “call” sign, without opening his mouth. Bob let out a heavy sigh and pulled out his phone.
“Hello, Alex? It’s Bob. We- Yea- You’re- then you- so you’ll- Alright then- Ok, thanks.” He grumbled quietly as he hung up the phone, “She’s always so curt, I swear, if I hadn’t seen her with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe she’s a librarian…” He sighed again and turned back to his boss, “He’s on his-”
CRACK
A flash of light filled their vision, as a lightning bolt struck the street near them. A thin figure calmly strolled out of the smoke. Bob knew it the second he saw the bald man, with his long white beard, spectacles, and white and red robe, slowly advancing with a tall walking stick.
“Magi…” someone behind him uttered. The old man approached Bob and extended a boney hand from under his robe. Bob shook it and explained the situation to him. “Thanks for coming, Magi. Your help is always appreciated.”
“’tis I who appreciate being allowed to help, young man. Now then, if you will excuse me for a few moments, I’ll try to finish this quickly so you folks can get on with your day.”
The old man walked towards the doors of the bank with an air of calm authority that only comes with great experience and age. With a flick of his fingers the doors flew open. Bob watched the frail figure slowly enter the bank, nervous, not worrying for Magi, but rather, for the criminals. The tension outside nearly doubled as the silent moments grew longer. Then the gunshots came. Bob wagered semi-automatics. The screams of agony, horror, and panic that followed those who opposed Magi filled their ears. A loud clap came next, and then the building fell silent.
Bob felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Regardless of his opinions, he was glad to have Magi on their side. He watched the old man calmly lead the hostages out of the bank with a warm smile on his face. Bob noted that Magi’s clothes were untouched. Lawrence approached Magi, and shook his hand, thanking him. Magi nodded and tottered off as one would expect someone of his apparent age to do. Bob motioned for Ralph to get statements, and then he and Jack followed the Lieutenant inside to assess the situation. It wasn’t a pretty scene. Bob approached one man, who was pinned to the ceiling by what he assumed was once a potted plant, though now it looked more like a giant Venus Flytrap.
“Christ…” Bob uttered, as he turned and saw the other bank robbers in similar situations. He counted the bodies, though calling them bodies wasn’t accurate. Magi never killed anyone. “Boss, there’s one missing.”
“I- I- I- I’m n- not m- missing…. I’m hiding….” came a stuttering voice. Jack had his weapon drawn and aimed at the man, who was curled in the fetal position behind a bench. Bob didn’t bother with his weapon as he approached the man. “J- j- just arrest m- me.” he stammered, holding out his hands for the cuffs. Bob obliged.
“What the hell happened in here…” Jack muttered.
“You don’t wanna know, kid. I stopped asking that after the first time I saw Magi work. It’s better for your sanity not to ask.” Bob commented, “Take this guy out and bring some chainsaws back with you.”
Jack paused for a moment, looking at the grizzly scene, then grabbed the man’s cuffs, “Yea... ok…”
Bob shook his head. I don’t like it, he thought, I don’t get why this guy is on our side.
“Don’t question it, Bob.” Lawrence said, jarring Bob from his thoughts, “Just be happy that he is on our side.”
“You’re probably right, Boss.”
September 20th, 2039
Dear Paper Entity,
So, here I am again, writing to some paper person. Useless waste of time, if you ask me, but I don’t seem to have a choice in the matter. Meh. At least this time I’m not writing in the negative…
Yea, I’ve actually had a good week. So far, my classes have been pretty easy. My English teacher Mr. Valence is awesome. I think he might secretly be insane though. He constantly bounces between a chipper, “Carpe Diem! Seize the Day!” attitude and a morose “Memento Mori” personality. That’s probably why I like him though. My other teachers are ok, except for my history teacher. I’m fairly sure the man is hellspawn. I’m also sure I saw his horns the other day… Aside from him though, I’ve had a pretty ok start… ignoring the first week.
Eh, I guess you’re not so bad, Paper Entity. I mean, if nothing else, you give me someone to bounce my thoughts off of, that won’t try to lecture me or give me advice. Ah well, I think I’m done for now.
Andy Ashling