He is There in the Shadows

CHAPTER ONE

Last night's ramen looked better on my floor than in my bowl. I snapped a picture and posted it to my close friends even though it consisted of thirty people I’ve never met.

The mop was buried under a pile of crap and I guess that’s kind of symbolic of how my life is going right now. Car horns blared and my eye twitched at the noise that permeated the window I thought I closed. The bubble wrap and blackout curtains didn’t seem to be helping my insomnia anyway. It might even be contributing to the nightmares. The new terror in my life besides my boss who forced me to use my own paid time off because my performance had been “inferior” as of late.

Large black horns flashed in my mind reminding me of the thing that haunted my sleep state and bled into my waking life. I cleaned the ramen with a dirty shirt and threw it in the trash. My stomach grumbled reminding me that we still needed something to eat as if I didn’t know. I wanted something citrusy. Something bubbly.

It was nearly three in the morning. Did I want to brave the outdoors and risk throwing up on the sidewalk? An ambulance went by, the siren going in one ear and out the other, as it drove down the street.

Fuck it.

Bells chimed above my head as I walked into the cramped space. I hated coming here so late, but I needed some sustenance.

"Mara." Al’s gold teeth sparkled from behind the plexiglass. "Still can't sleep, huh?"

I shook my head and pulled my hoodie's strings further enclosing me in my cocoon.

I made a beeline for the few fruits he kept stocked. Fruit flies swarmed around the bananas, but not the oranges. I shoved all six of them in my tote bag and checked my bank account.

Thirty-eight dollars... Good enough.

Bells chimed as a group of drunk teens with too much eyeliner reeking of cheap vodka waltzed in, clinging to each other. Their obnoxious laughter made me queasy. Someone should’ve told me that the city never slept because no one knew how to shut the fuck up.

I tried to ignore them and grabbed several bottles of Perrier from the back and brought them to the register. Al’s laugh crept through the tiny holes when he rang up a bottle.

"Now I ain’t never seen you come in here buying no damn oranges and Perrier. You pregnant?"

I forced a laugh and those horns flashed in my mind, robbing me of the little amusement.

"No." I put my tote on the counter and shoved it through the opening.

"You sure? I saw you talking to one of them jokers the other day."

I sighed and rubbed my temples. "I am not pregnant. Trust me.”

He held his hands up and slid my things back over, looking at the drunk teens gathered behind the rows of chips.

"How much do I owe you?" I held out my phone, ready to tap and get back to my place.

He shook his head. "On the house. Get some sleep. I don’t wanna see you in here at three a.m. again."

I hesitated but mustered up a small smile and semi-dramatic eye roll. "Thanks, Al. See ya later."

The smell of fresh piss threatened to churn up what little was left in my stomach. I cracked open a Perrier and drank a few sips. That weird queasy feeling settled enough until I got back to my apartment.

I dropped my bag on the table and tore into an orange before I could think about a knife. The sweet juices dripped down my palm and chin as I devoured it within seconds. Satisfied; I wiped my mouth and took another sip, but something in my bag caught my eye. I emptied the contents and a small clear bag no bigger than my thumb held a single pill. Al.

I took it despite my D.A.R.E training. He wouldn’t steer me wrong. Those horns flashed behind my eyes as I turned off the lights and felt my way through the dark. Several items fell to the floor before I collapsed onto my bed. I slid the silk mask over my eyes, clutched the green bottle, and recited the prayer until my eyes grew heavy. For the first time in four days, I fell asleep before the sun came up.

Dark Horns. Purple sky bleeding through the window. I feel him, but my eyes refuse to open.

My stomach churned and clashed with the fear that bubbled beneath the surface. I leaned over the bed and everything came up. I slid the mask up and the tiny mushroom night light lit up the corner of the room. He’s not there. You’re fine.

I stepped around the mess and turned on the overhead light. That can’t be right. I used my phone's flashlight and it illuminated the black mass. I swiped my finger through it, the shiny black liquid dripped down my hand leaving a trail of heat behind.

What. The. Fuck.

CHAPTER TWO

Five hours. Five whole hours.

I swirled the black liquid in the old pickle jar as the man beside me coughed up his lungs. I tightened my masks, yes masks, and held my tiny jar closer. What if I was dying? I ran through all the people who'd want to know so they could make arrangements, but that list was at a whopping zero. I don’t even think my own family would bother visiting. Maybe Al. The pill. He probably gave me fucking fentanyl or something. They’ll see it in my system and think I’m some fucking idiot who takes pills from the bodega guy.

I sipped my water and dug in my ziplock for an orange slice as I debated leaving. They were still the only things I could stomach.

"Mara Andersen," the receptionist called from behind the desk.

The door buzzed as it opened and she met me at the threshold. "Room three, the nurse will be right with you." She pointed to the number three hanging over a door at the end of the hall.

I hadn’t been to the E.R. in years and I imagined cadavers under blood-stained sheets rotting on slabs as people waited in the lobby, but it was surprisingly clean and quiet; too quiet for a five-hour wait.

Room three was smaller than my bathroom. I could stretch my arms and touch the opposite walls, but I sat on the crinkly paper and placed the jar on a nearby counter. The nurse came in and poked and prodded me as she asked invasive questions regarding my health and nonexistent sex life.

When she finally left me to wait for the doctor, I went through the drawers and cabinets and stuffed what I needed in my tote: wipes, sanitizer, gloves, and a small paper towel roll.

Those horns flashed in my mind as the paper crinkled under me once more. The clock ticked and more coughs drifted down the hall probably led by that annoying nurse. I should’ve left. The time passed too slowly and whatever was in my system had calmed down. The black mass stared back at me and I got lost in the ether.

The door creaked open and a man wearing a blue shirt and run-down sneakers walked in looking all of fifteen years old. He didn’t say a word. The keyboard clicking bounced off the walls. I glanced at my phone. That can’t be right. I was here for seven hours? I cleared my throat and he sighed, turning around.

"Nurse says you haven’t been sleeping and you threw up." He glanced at the screen.

"Um. Yes, that.” I pointed to the jar on the counter.

He looked back and forth between the jar and I then went back to his screen. "Well, your labs are fine. The blood work is good. No tests came back positive, so…"

I hoped I didn’t look as dumbfounded as I felt. "Okay, but what about this? Can you test it to see what it is?" I held out the jar.

He stepped closer and eyed it, flashing his tiny light into it. "We don't have the equipment for that. Plus, it’s in a pickle jar so it’s probably contaminated." He shrugged, turned back to the computer, and typed something in as he snuck glances at me. "But if it happens again, come see us and we'll see what we can do."

"That’s it?" I threw my hands up. “I literally threw up black bullshit and you want me to come back if it happens again?"

His lips pursed into a thin line. "Myra, your labs are fine. Blood work is fine. There's really nothing we can do if you don’t currently have any symptoms."

“Mara—my name is Mara.” I rubbed my temples and the awkward silence stretched between us. “What about the insomnia? Can you prescribe me something for that?"

He sighed. "Has it been happening for more than five days?"

"Yes."

He turned around and typed something into the computer. "I can send some something over to the pharmacy you gave the nurse, but no blue light after sunset, no caffeine at least six hours before bed, and limit stress.”

If only it were that easy.

One stop at the pharmacy and I could go home and sleep. I’d need every second of rest if I was going to survive my first full day back at work. I just prayed those horns didn’t haunt my dreams tonight.

CHAPTER THREE

The paper bag with my new “legal” drugs slid off the table. I sat down and ignored the horns in my mind. The black mass sat atop the table; the only thing I was careful with on the way home. I just wanted to sleep. I wanted a night where I could just rest and not think or worry.

My phone dinged, alerting me that my ass had to be at my desk in less than twenty hours. I grabbed a Perrier, picked up the bag of pills, and tore into the paper leaving the shreds where they fell. Zolpidem.

I flipped through the accompanying pamphlet and tossed it in the trash. I didn’t need to know that my phone’s light was harmful or that I should minimize noise and light. I’ve tried everything, except therapy and I was five minutes from consulting one of those internet priestesses who guaranteed to rid me of a curse for twenty dollars.

These pills had to fix me. I chased one with a few cold orange slices and washed the hospital smell off of me. It’d only been half an hour, but something was working. Maybe it was the Sleepy shower gel or the lavender body oil because my body felt like it weighed a ton as the cool air hit my body. I could see the steam as it rose from my skin, but I didn’t see the horns in my room or behind my eyes. Maybe I found the right concoction. I collapsed into bed and clutched the pickle jar. I could’ve flushed it but I felt attached to it somehow; like it was mine. The sirens and noises of the night didn’t seem to bother me as I drifted to sleep.

***

I tried to hold the slumber closer and prevent it from slipping through my fingers, but I needed to use the bathroom. Pain shot through my foot the second I stepped out of bed. I limped to the bathroom and tried to avoid further injury. The fluorescent light snapped me out of that hazy phase. I wouldn't be going back to sleep and my blood was all over the tiles.

The black bullshit melded with the crimson on my foot. I recited the prayer in my head to keep me calm. It’s become more of a crutch than anything. After I cleaned my foot I went back to my room, but I didn’t need to turn on the light to know I had company. I squeezed my eyes shut and repeated the prayer over and over again until that feeling passed. When I opened them to an empty room, I turned on the light to clean the mess, but the puddle wasn’t there. Just glass and a few drops of blood. I cleaned everything, but it whispered my name. I was losing it. I popped another pill, set several alarms, and hoped I didn’t sleep through them.

“Mara,” the raspy voice whispered.

I put on my headphones and cowered in the corner of my bed, pulling my knees to my chest. I tried to find safety under the covers, but it yelled over my music.

Mara.

Mara.

Mara.

Mara.

"What?" I screamed. "What do you want?"

I pulled back the covers and waited for an answer.

“You.”

CHAPTER FOUR

"Mara," my boss said over the clacking of keyboards and ringing phones. "You look well. Let's keep it that way." He tapped the top of my cubicle and disappeared to bother someone else.

After that voice told me he wanted me I took another pill. It was a miracle I even woke up this morning, let alone make it to work on time. I turned on my computer but not before seeing those horns in the reflection.

It’s not real. He’s not real. I squeezed my eyes shut as it whispered my name over and over again.

"Stop." My scream drew the attention of everyone. I quietly apologized and ducked away to the bathroom.

The lights flickered in the hallway, but no one else seemed to notice. The bathroom offered little reprieve with its low lights because I felt it. He's there in the shadows. I kept my head down and splashed cold water on my face as it taunted me.

It’s not real. He’s not real. No one is there.

I tried to avoid looking at reflective surfaces, but it didn’t matter. He stood in front of me, blocking the doorway. Those horns hovered just below the ceiling light. I blinked twice, hoping he'd go away and leave me alone, but he stood unblinking.

"Mara," he whispered and held his hand out.

"You’re not real." I closed my eyes and counted to ten.

"I'm here. I’m real. Open your eyes."

I shook my head and squeezed my eyes tighter. "Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone."

"You wanted this," he whispered.

"Go away," I yelled and opened my eyes to nothing, but Sharon from human resources clutching her phone.

“Are you okay? Is someone bothering you?" She looked around the empty bathroom.

The faucet dripped, bringing me back to this moment. I cleared my throat and put on a fake smile. "No, I'm fine."

I went back to my desk and tried to pretend like I was doing something but I was just looking up my symptoms. Throwing up black stuff. Hearing things. Seeing a demon.

"I’m not a demon, Mara," his voice boomed in my head.

I clutched my ears and keeled over my keyboard. I don’t know how long I stayed like that, but someone cleared their throat beside me. My boss wore one of those fake, sad smiles and I knew what was coming before the words left his mouth. He bent down, stealing a glance at my screen that had several pictures of demons, none looking like the one that had been haunting me.

"I think it's best you head home for the foreseeable future. I hope you can find the help you need."

I couldn't even laugh. I couldn't yell. I chuckled and nodded as he spewed some bullshit about my coworkers feeling unsafe. Sharon.

"I'm not leaving without my last check." I looked down at the box by his side. I didn't even need it for the few things I had.

He reached into his pocket and handed me a folded envelope. I didn't want to delve into the fact that he had it ready.

I snatched it and shoved my things in my bag. I kept my eyes trained on the elevator and when I was finally out of the building, I cried.

***

"Come out," my yell that I held in and stewed and simmered in the pit of my stomach roared off the walls. I waited in the brightly lit room illuminating the mayhem that had become my apartment.

"Oh, now you don’t want to talk?"

Silence.

I closed the blinds and turned off the lights. I was done fucking around. This piece of shit has robbed me of my sleep and got me fired.

A slow chuckle crept up behind me. "I don’t like being summoned, Mara and this is the second time you’ve done this."

I turned around but was met with more darkness. "I never summoned you. You must have me confused with someone else."

My phone buzzed and I opened a notification to a direct message from myself. It was the prayer I liked weeks ago. The same prayer I’ve been repeating for weeks because it’s supposed to change my mindset and invite something good into my life.

"I felt your call that night. I saw you crying on the bathroom floor begging for someone, anyone to help. I answered."

No.

"You’re lying."

"I don’t lie."

“I called out to God, not you.”

“Perhaps, you should have been more specific.”

I was transfixed by the purple depths that seemed to swirl in his eyes. I should have been frightened, scared of what this meant, but I could only stare.

"How do I get you to go away?"

Al’s mom always gave me candles for random things, a new job, reversing evil eye, and protection. Surely, I had one lying around here. A knife might work if I’m quick.

"There’s one under the sink, but it can’t help you." He shook his head. "The knife will not help either. You think you can kill a God?"

Of course, I cursed myself from a stupid fucking post.

"Oh, don't think of it as a curse, Mara. I’m here to help. What is it that you want the most?"

I stepped away from his intense stare only to be met by the wall. This was how every horror movie started. A woman and a god promising to fulfill her desires.

"Don’t think too hard. What do you want? What would make this life easier?"

I scoffed. "Money, free from pain, peace, where do I even begin?"

"Done."

The silence stretched between us and the corner of his mouth turned up. I thought it’d feel different, but I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. Something clicked in my head and I wondered what this would cost me. "What do you want from me in return?”

His smile revealed black, almost reflective teeth. "Devotion."

CHAPTER FIVE

I slept like the dead for days, only waking to chug my lukewarm Perrier and then it was back to black. Surprisingly, the money wasn’t burning a hole in my pocket. I thought I’d want to immediately spend money, but it felt weird—wrong even. Like someone would take it from me any day now.

"You're awake." Dolomeer.

I focused on the shiny horns at the edge of my bed, the scene felt too familiar to my nightmares but all of the fear was gone. I knew that it would subside eventually, but I just didn’t expect it to morph into something else.

I stretched and leaned against my headboard. "Let me guess, you've come to collect. What exactly does devotion entail by the way?"

He sunk onto the foot of my bed, the long black cloak floated and draped itself across my cheap cotton sheets.

"I need you to make others believe."

"Believe in what—you? For what?" I clutched my temple. What the hell did I get myself into?

I peeled the covers back and swore I saw his eyes focus on my thighs, but it was hard to tell since they were an abyss.

“Please focus, Mara.”

I rolled my eyes and went to the bathroom, my reflection looked unfamiliar as I ignored the horns behind me. The air no longer felt thick with despair. I tried to remember the last time I felt this rested or at peace, but I don’t think I’ve ever known it. Maybe he was real, maybe this was all real, or maybe I’d officially lost my mind, but I’d do anything to keep this feeling forever because it felt better than the hell I’d been through.

If I was going to make others believe, I needed food. Real food. I could’ve sprung for an elaborate dinner at Schifelli’s but refused to take the subway. The walk to the bodega passed in a trance-like state and stares. Instead, I got a sandwich with all the fixings and another one for later. Although the urge to consume oranges and drink Perrier subsided, I bought some anyway. I couldn't help myself.

Al rang me up and motioned behind me. "He with you?"

I turned around and clutched my chest. "Were you behind me the whole time?"

"Yes,” Dolomeer said.

Al shook his head. "God, the costumes get weirder every year. What convention is it now?”

"Um, some special Comicon, they added it this year. He's Dolomeer, an ancient God."

Al shook his head and nodded along like he didn’t give a shit about what I was saying. I paid and left. Suddenly the stares made sense, but so did something else. I stopped on the sidewalk and took in the buildings around me.

"I have an idea."

***

Several stops later with a new camera and other gear in tow, Dolomeer and I started shooting. I always knew my minor in photography would come in handy. We started in Central Park, but this woman kept trying to touch his horns so we shot in front of the Methodist church on Park Ave, almost every intersection of Fifth Ave above 55th Street, and The Library’s rooftop. Wherever I thought his presence would elicit the response I needed, we went and he didn't complain.

We spoke about everything on Earth and on his planet. He told me about how they stopped worshiping. They stopped believing. I wondered if that’s why the world has felt like it’s gone to shit lately. I wondered if our Gods abandoned us, but then I remembered the zealots. Maybe they just didn’t have enough faith to save us all.

When we finally finished shooting after being interrupted several times by people that wanted to talk to Dolomeer about his costume, I made him a social media account. I couldn’t help but feel I was falling in love with a God as I scrolled through the shots and it only intensified as I edited and posted them over a few days. It felt like I blinked and he had over a million followers after Overheard featured him in a meme dump.

We had several photoshoots and interviews scheduled for the day and according to Dolomeer, I was doing more than he thought was possible. I didn’t know how he tracked ‘devotion,’ but I ‘exceeded his expectations’ and that was all that mattered.

The shoots went fine. Draining, but fine. He introduced me as his human and insisted I be included in all of the shots. I smiled the entire time even as something shifted. We grabbed Schifelli’s and stopped at the bodega for oranges and Perrier before heading back to the apartment.

"So…what are we?" I asked after stuffing lasagna in my mouth. The ice machine dropped a few cubes and sirens blared through the brick walls.

"You forget I can read your mind. I know every part of you, Mara."

I guess part of me thought I had some sort of privacy in my own head. Silly me.

“Don't do that,” he whispered in my head. “I would never use anything against you. I am forever indebted to you. Whatever you want, I will do. Whoever you want me to be, I will be. I will morph into whomever, whatever. I will become it.”

I stared into the pools of darkness, mesmerized by what was being reflected back to me: visions of us and his whispers in my head. Ungodly things that would’ve made me blush, but only seemed to be a reflection of what I’ve been thinking about these last few days. I stood and walked to my bedroom obeying him without second thought. The starched bedding crunched beneath our weight as darkness engulfed me.

I woke alone tangled in the crumpled sheets, which reminded me of the tangled limbs we became hours ago. I left the bed in search of him and found him on the fire escape. Horns blared in the distance as the smell of sulfur permeated the surge of energy. I rubbed my eyes attempting to clear the haze, but I wasn’t seeing things.

"What’s going on?" I eyed the raging purple sky and found his hand.

It was moments before he spoke, but I heard the fear in his voice. "I think our worlds are colliding."

THE END