Shadows At Night
"The Presence" prompt for Ironage.media
The jubilation in the square had dissipated rapidly from what it had been just hours earlier as the partygoers started to trickle out of the plaza and return to their homes, ready to prepare themselves for the long cold months ahead once day broke. This left only a handful of people, myself included, to clean up the mess left behind. I did not mind this task, however, because any opportunity to stay in the village and converse with the residents was one I welcomed with open arms, especially when the occasion was one such as this.
The yield of the autumn harvest had exceeded all that of the previous decade combined, which led to plenty of celebration and merriment among the farmers and merchants in the form of drinking, singing, dancing, and of course, even more drinking. As a farmer myself, it was rather pleasant to be treated as a celebrity, even if only for the night, a night which I intended on making last as long as possible.
The clean up went on into the early hours of the moonless morning until we few volunteers had restored the area back to its original state, which was celebrated with one final drink before we, too. would depart for our homes but not without warnings being issued.
“Tread carefully on your way home,” said the eldest villager, who had stayed to tidy up. “Evil always works hardest during the night, especially during the new moon.”
“I think you’re mistaken sir,” a younger farmer to the side of me said. “Everyone knows that night is most dangerous when the moon is fullest.”
“Aye, this is true,” the old man nodded. “Under lunar light is when the ghouls clamber from their crypts and the howling of wolves is joined in chorus by that of cursed men and when witches fraternize with the damnable beings whose power they covet but it is on the nights that follow when the ramifications of these misdeeds begin to manifest and you’d do well to take heed of this.”
The silence of a group trying to make sense of what they heard was all that met the elder’s cryptic admonition before I broke it a moment later to say my farewells.
“Thank you for the advice, sir. I’ll be sure to exercise caution on my way home,” I said as respectfully as I could.
“You especially,” he said, turning his attention to me. “You have one of the longest treks home, if I recall.”
“Your wisdom is matched only by your memory, sir. Which is why I shouldn’t waste any more time,” I replied with a bow.
“You should have left earlier,” he said, shaking his head.
“You needn’t worry’ even on the darkest night, I know my way home,” I said.
“Even so, let me give you a lantern,” he said. “You can return it later.”
“I will,” I said.
From there, I took my leave from the rest of the group and left the town. I spoke the truth when I said I would be able to find my back without help as the path to my farm ran parallel to a river that connected the village and my residence. Even so, I knew it would be rude not to accept the gift from the elder so from my belt did the lantern hang, yet to be lit.
Though I could only see several paces in front of me, I found the darkness, coupled with the soft babbling of water on rock, to be a soothing experience, giving me plenty of time to embrace the solitude around me and disappear into thought. That was until something moved on the trail ahead.
The surprise pulled me back to reality but only halted me for a moment as I figured it was just the silhouette of a deer or perhaps a sheep that had lost its shepherd as was common in the area. So I pressed on further down the river, minus the lackadaisical demeanor I carried with me to that point. Then, only several steps later, it happened again.
This time there was no mistaking it. The shape crossing ahead of me was moving upright.
“Hello,” I called out.
They stopped when I said this, remaining motionless in the middle of the road, staring off into the woods to the right of me.
After a minute of standing perfectly still, despite a few more attempts to get the stranger’s attention, I made the decision to approach them further. It only took two steps before they finally turned to face me.
They said nothing and made no attempt to walk in my direction but the way they turned, as if their feet didn’t even move at all, was enough to stop me again.
In an instant, I grabbed the lantern at my side and lit it with the flint I’d been given to go along with it. It took a few hurried attempts but I was eventually able to ignite the wick inside and shine it toward the statuesque figure still impeding my path.
When the light reached them though, nothing. The person whose frame seemed so clear disappeared in an instant.
“It’s just in your head,” I said out loud, thinking the elder’s stories had managed to agitate a more fearful part of my psyche.
So, after a sigh of relief, I continued down the path, now illuminated by the flame I now carried with me, chuckling to myself about how foolish I was to let the old fables get to me.
“Where?”
I froze. There was no doubt in my mind that the voice was real and as I looked around for its source, I realized I was standing in the exact spot the figure had been moments earlier.
Silence fell over the road, save for the ever-accelerating thumping of my heart, as if it were trying to pound its way out of my chest while I frantically tried to find where the question came from.
“Whose there? Show yourself,” I said, trying to sound demanding around the fist-sized lump in my throat.
The hair on the back of my neck rose in tandem with the breath that brushed against it.
“Where? Do you have it?”
I turned to face the person who’d snuck behind me and held out the lantern, only to see an empty road. I looked all around, my eyes darting from tree to tree and from rock to rock, searching for even the slightest movement. There was nothing except the shadows cast by the forest and by myself on the ground.
I turned back around, then I realized my mistake and I started running. If the light was in front of me, I wouldn’t see my shadow.
I flew down the path faster than I ever thought possible, barely managing to avoid the dips and branches that lined the way as I did.
“Where, do you know where?”
The voice was practically in my ear, as if its owner were latched onto my back, so I ran faster.
“Please, tell me.”
“I DON’T KNOW,” I turned back and yelled. Then my foot caught the edge of a rock and I fell forward, watching the lantern slip from my hand and shatter on the ground as I did.
I got up in darkness, my eyes having just acclimated to the light of the flame, and felt a stiff pain in my ankle, knowing immediately I’d sprained it.
“Please, I need to know,” the silhouette stood motionless, only inches from my face.
“Yes, me too.”
This new voice came from behind me and as I turned to face it, I saw other shadows all starting to circle around me.
“Tell me.”
“No, tell me.”
“If you don’t know, then tell us who does.”
“It’s all we want.”
They were getting closer and closer, until all I could see was their frames huddled around me.
“We want to know.”
“We need to know.”
“We have to know.”
“LEAVE ME ALONE,” disorientated and delirious, I picked a direction with the fewest figures blocking it and limped through as fast as I could manage.
“Don’t go,” I heard them say behind me.
I did not turn back to face them, I had to get away from this nightmare by any means necessary.
“No, not that way.”
I kept moving, even as water filled my shoes and numbed my feet and legs. Even when my feet could barely touch the ground and the river filled my mouth and my lungs, I did not stop.
All of this now feels like just a bad dream or a distant memory now that I look back on it. The pain in my foot is gone and I no longer feel cold or wet. In fact, I don’t think I’ve felt quite this warm or pleasant in all my life. Only one thing bothers me though:
I can’t seem to find my body.
Every time I look down, I see not my torso or my feet, only the empty ground below me. While I can feel my hands as they brush against my face, I cannot see them as they do so. Even when I look down at the water’s surface, the only reflection I see is that of the sun. I fear that after all this time, I’ve forgotten what I look like.
No matter how many times I search the river and the surrounding area where I went in, I just can’t seem to find myself.
Perhaps someone else might be able to help me. Perhaps I should ask them,
“Where?”