Shades

The room is engulfed in darkness. No moon shining outside, no lights, nothing. I’m lying in my bed, eyes closed, waiting. Sure enough, a few seconds later I hear my mother coming to my room, checking if I am asleep. She opens the door as silent as she could, but the old wood still creaks. Even though I can’t see anything, I can still feel her wincing at the sound, fearing that she would wake me up. I’m constraining myself to remain silent, to not move, not make a sound, I’m even afraid to blink. After a few seconds of staying in the doorway, she seems to be satisfied with my regular breath. She steps outside of the room and closes the door. I hear the voice of my father whispering outside.
“Is he sleeping?”
Yeah, he’s finally asleep. I’m starting to worry, though. Every night in the past two weeks he’s been staying up late, reading some old books he’s found in the attic. Every time I’m asking him what he’s reading, he’s hiding the book under the blanket saying <nothing, Ma.>”
I can hear my father laughing softly.
“Ah yes, I remember being his age. I’m pretty sure I know what he’s reading. He’s probably some old Playboys or Hustlers and he’s… you know. Maturing. Doing the things the boys his age are usually doing at his age.”
“You mean he’s reading some porn magazines?” I hear my mother rising the tone, a little surprised.
“Well, I guess we should start getting used to him growing up. Shit, I was almost thinking he’s researching some satanistic rituals there,” said my mother, her tone slightly amused.
“Come on, let’s get back to sleep. That is, if you want to sleep,” the tone in my fathers voice unmistakable.
“Well then, let’s see what you got, old boy,” I hear my mother laughing. I hear them making some kissing noises, talking softly – even though I can’t make out words anymore – and then I hear the door at their room closing.
Crap. I need to find a way to get this images out of my head. Gross.
Most teenage kids prefer not to think of what their parents are doing in their dormitory and believe me, I wouldn’t if my parents weren’t be so bloody obvious sometimes. Of course, they think I’m sleeping but still. They could have this kind of discussions in their room.
Double crap. They also think I’m fapping every night.
But they are wrong. These aren’t Playboys. I’ve found my dad’s old stash and nicked some magazines and he was never the wiser. Hypocrite. That what I am reading is far more interesting then some cheap porn magazines. Far more dangerous. My mom wasn’t entirely wrong. Except for the fact that these aren’t satanistic rituals, they are more like spiritual books, if one could call them that way. No. The correct word would be spiritism books.
Books about demons, ghosts, spirits and other so called fantastical beings. Beings of whom our parents always told us they do not exist. Just fairytales.
Yeah, right. The problem with these books was that they would describe these beings so detailed, so precisely that they would make anyone believe in the slight possibility of their existing. And these books weren’t horror stories. They simply – or not so simply – described what these beings are and how to contact them. Sophisticated summoning rituals. Dangers that would lie ahead if someone were foolish enough to attempt to conjure them.

If only I would have been smart enough to put the books away, to tear them apart and then burn them. To destroy every sign of their physical existence. Or tell my parents I wasn’t really masturbating, but reading some very, VERY dangerous books…
Needless to say that it seemed way too interesting to a thirteen year old boy and I had to try some of them, see if it was the real deal or just some crappy grandma horror stories. Some of beings I’ve read about were Shades. Shades were supposed to be like shadows, ‘made up’ of the same material. Basically just obscured light. The difference was that Shades were alive – moving, seeing, conscious. People say that the reflection in the mirror is just the reflection of one thing or being in another dimension. The problem is, there are also other things in that dimension. That’s why in most of these books, the summoning ritual require a mirror.
But back to the Shades. These beings were supposed to be able to take any form. Only certain things distincts them from normal beings. Only a trained eye would be able to make the difference. The skin of a Shade who’s taken the form of a human would always be pale and their eyes would always be green. As for animals, their fur would always be black and their eyes – of course, green.
If any of you has ever read an entertaining book about witches and warlocks, you would probably know that most of them have a black cat as a pet, sometimes using it for rituals, sometimes communicating to them. Only now you know these kittens are shades, not ordinary animals. And now you also have the explaination for the old superstition about black cats crossing your way. Granted, probably not all of these cats are actually vile spawns of hell, but you get the picture.
The voice of a Shade who’s taken a human form can range from a whisper to a demonic growl. They can travel through dimensions, even the afterlife and make deals with anyone they deem worthy.
Of course, like every adventurous thirteen year old boy, I considered myself worthy to try. What would be the worse that could happen?, I thought to myself back then. Probably just standing in front of the mirror, looking ridiculous and being happy that no one know I was stupid enough to believe this was real. Nevertheless, I concentrated on reading about summoning rituals of Shades, since I hoped to make a great deal, getting some awesome powers to impress my friends and family with.
There I was, in the bathroom, five minutes before midnight, with a cigarette stolen from my dad. I checked my watch to make sure I’m timing it perfectly. I lit the cigarette, hoping the ritual wasn’t complete nonsense. I coughed as silently as I could, like every smoking contender, hoping that my parents wouldn’t smell the smoke tommorow in the bathroom. I only kept the cigarette burning, creating as much smoke as possible, though avoiding to draw too hard from it, since my lungs were not at all happy with my new found hobby. According to the book, the room was supposed to be as dark as possible, therefore I put out the lights in the bathroom. The only light was coming from the cigarette end which was starting to burn my fingers. I kept on staring in the mirror, not blinking even though my eyes were starting to water from the smoke. Precisely at midnight, when I’ve heard the old lever watch we had from grandma ringing downstairs, my reflection in the mirror began to dissapear and another form was replacing it. I couldn’t believe my eyes and almost wet my pants. I lit the candle which was supposed to replace the light of the cigarette bum according to the ritual and aproached the mirror. I knocked on the mirror seven times and said with suffocated voice “I invite you to our world, come, Shade.”
The Shade then dissapated from the mirror and reformed behind me, looking like a tall, muscular man with short hair, pale skin and green eyes. I then shook his hand and it asked me: “What do you wish to know or receive?”
“Grant me immortality, Shade.”
It laughed and said, “Very well then, but you will have to repay me at some point.”
“How?” I asked it.
“We’ll talk about this some other time,” it smiled. “We’ll have an eternity to talk about it,” it laughed at it’s own joke.
He then turned his hand into a claw and stuck it into my chest. The pain I’ve felt was unbearable and I cursed the moment I’ve touched the occult books. It felt as if a thousand knives were cutting me open, disemboweling me. Eventually my brain couldn’t bear the pain anymore and I was passing out, when I’ve once again heard the demonic voice of the Shade whispering “Try it out. I shall see you tommorow at midnight.”
I woke up a few minutes later, even though it felt like years. I ran back in my room, thinking it was just a hallucination, hoping my father’s cigarettes contained ganja and nothing really happened. I wasn’t able to fall asleep that night. The sunrise found me lying in my bed, pale as a ghost and frightened as if I’ve seen one. Everybody was still asleep and I decided I won’t fall sleep anymore in that night. I went down to the kitchen and drew a knife from the drawer. I decided there was only one way to find out if the happenings in that night were real or just a wicked dream.
The knife was sharp, sharp enough to cut through the bones of the chicken wings my mom loves to prepare for dinner. I placed its tip on my forearm, pushing the knife edge into my skin. I felt no pain. I pushed it even further and I could see blood squirting out of the wound. I panicked. Pulled the knife out. Immediately my wound was cauterizing, the blood from the floor was getting drawn back into the wound, leaving no mark whatsoever.
I was afraid. Afraid and relieved at the same time, if you know what I mean. It meant that it really happened, I really achieved immortality, and I’ve achieved it for no price. Then I remembered the last words of the Shade. Tommorow night, echoed through my head.
Well, I thought to myself, even if the Shade wanted money, I could easily rob a bank, give it the money and spend ten years in prison, enjoying my immortality after that. I felt confident, I felt powerful, I felt.. well, immortal.

The night came. My mom kissed me goodnight and went back to my parents room. Time passed. Every now and then I was checking my watch. Eventually midnight draw nearer.
Precisely at midnight, the Shade materialised in front of my bed, waiting for me to notice it. We shook hands again. It asked me how I like my new power. I said I’m very satisfied with it.
“You must repay me, now shall I explain,” it said. I nodded. “You must point out seven people for me, so that I can kill them and take their shadow.” My eyes widened in horror.
“I would never do that,” I whispered angrily.
It growled, the same fearful growl only a demon can produce. It was angry now.
I turned on the lights. The shade was upon me now, it seemed light won’t repell it. It nearly laughed. It then said, “You shall keep aging and eventually become an old, powerless old man. Even then you will not be able to die. Even if only a skeleton is left of you, it will not be able to die and achieve eternal peace. Remember, the only way to stop aging and remain forever young is to keep your part of the deal and repay me.” It then vanished.

Ten years have passed. Now that you have read this, you know. It can track you down, kill you and take your shadow. I am immortal, but I am cursed to walk the earth without a shadow. And to walk without a shadow, is to walk without a soul. You are the first one of the seven who will repay my debt. We’ll never meet again, I will never be on the other side. I will forever stay at this age, forever twenty three.
I’ve decided that seven lives mean nothing to me if I can live forever. For I am damned to walk the earth forever, and if I can choose the age I will be forever, this is it.
But I thank you.