The Shadow Walker
Some people fear the dark. Aiden just discovered he belongs to it.
Aiden never liked the shadows. Not because he was afraid of the dark, but because they whispered.
It started when he turned eighteen. At first, it was a soft murmur at the edge of his hearing, like someone calling his name from another room. Then, the whispers grew clearer. They told him things—secrets no one else could know.
One night, walking home through an alley, he saw it. A flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. A shadow detached itself from the wall and stood before him, shifting like living smoke.
"Finally, you can see us."
Aiden's breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t dreaming.
"You are one of us," the shadow continued. "A Walker between worlds."
Before Aiden could react, the shadow lunged. Darkness wrapped around him, cold and suffocating, pulling him through a void. And then—silence.
When he opened his eyes, he wasn’t in the alley anymore. The city was different. The streets were the same, but the buildings shimmered with ghostly outlines. Spectral figures walked alongside ordinary people, unseen by them but visible to him.
"You are awake now," a voice echoed in his mind. "This is the true world. And it needs you."
Aiden had always feared the shadows. Now, he was one of them.
About the Creator
kristiono
stories about life, there is no end. There are always stories that we have to experience and go through, joys and sorrows that we have to go through. always think positively about the life we live
Logic and reason are not always explanation enough.
Logic and reason are not always explanation enough. Understanding is elusive He sat looking at the half empty glass but not seeing it, he was cold but not feeling it, he was in pain but not hurting from it. His mind was numb, his memory a jumble of conflicting events, as if from a nightmare but were in fact real. The phone rang for a long time before it gained his attention and then he tried to turn it off, an automatic reaction against coming back to reality. His mind preferred the numbness to anything else that was available. In this distracted state he accidentally accepted the call and put it onto speaker, the voice from the speaker jolted him into giving it his full attention. This was a call from the dead. The voice was full of concern, “where are you John, why haven’t you called, what is going on?” Even to his own ears his tone sounded subdued, defeated, “I am in the cabin, in the woods but I am OK will call you later” and he turned the phone off both ending this call and not accepting any other.
By Peter Rose5 days ago in Fiction
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