Shadowed – A Short Story
June 19th, 1996—Lucas Strider
6:27 pm
It was a breezy evening. Exactly what one would picture when you think of summer. The sun was setting in beautiful shades of orange, pink, and purple. You could hear the cicadas chirping from every direction. Kids riding their bikes around the cul-de-sac, yelling directions to their friends. Dogs barking, and people splashing in pools.
And then, an additional sound on the wind, intertwining with the buzz of summer. A child’s laughter. A mother cooing, “Good job!” A father cooking on the barbeque.
Stepping up to their short fence, I watch them with eager fascination. I’m going to tear them apart piece by piece; and you get to watch, Bob Stacie. You get to watch as I rip your family away from you.
Serve and protect? A smile tugs at my lips. Not for long… Let the games begin.
“Hey, Stacie’s!” I wave kindly to the family I am going to destroy in a few short hours. Growing up with my victim has its advantages. The family of three turns to look at their guest with welcoming gazes.
“Hey Luke, you made it! Kitty Kat, Uncle Luke is here!” Bob yells for his bouncing toddler to come hug her favorite uncle, completely oblivious to the danger behind the smile. I drop to a knee to gather all of her in my arms. She is so full of life, so fragile. I cannot wait to snuff it out.
“Uncle Lu, Uncle Lu! Watch!” Her broken jargon almost warms my heart. I watch the little girl climb up the steps of the slide, her mom staying near to help her. Katherine continuously makes sure I’m watching. She slides the short few feet of the plastic slide, her little giggles are contagious.
“Thanks for coming, Luke. It’s been a while since we had you over.” Bob claps me on the back in a friendly gesture. He reaches to shake my hand. The very hand that is going to take everything from him.
“I’ve been busy. The LSAT doesn’t study itself.” I take the beer he’s handing me. “You look tired, Bob.”
“I am tired.” He says. “Late nights at the office are starting to take their toll.”
“I can only imagine,” I reply. “Any leads on The Suburbs Slayer?” I loathe the unoriginal name that has been attached to my hard work. It tastes sour coming out of my mouth.
“Honestly, we have hit a wall. Until he kills again, we have no leads. It’s the downside of trying to catch a deranged murderer. He doesn’t even take trophies. He seems so simple-minded but meticulous. There is nothing to connect him.” He says as he plates the food, getting ready to take it inside. Of course, nothing connects him. I’m not sloppy, never have been.
“Or her!” Jennifer chimes in, playfulness in her voice, as she walks by us with Katherine to get her cleaned up for dinner. We both turn to smile at her words.
Deranged? Simple-minded? Of all the idiotic things to say. Bob will be last, he needs to watch me at work.
We begin our short journey into the house. The familiar chill of excitement evokes goosebumps and my heart rate accelerates. We are only moments away from sweet release. I keep pace behind Bob, as to not alert him of any danger. One look at my change in gait, and he will know something is off.
A bad cop, he is not.
Bob walks through the threshold; my cue to get ready. I loosen the wooden wedge I have folded in my shirt. I follow behind him and turn towards the door to close it. I lock it, bend down, and place the wedge up and under the door frame. Just a little insurance if they try to run. I pick up the baseball bat, which is always found by the door for Jen’s late-night security when Bob is at the office.
I can hear them in the dining room, laughing, living the American Dream.
It is time.
I walk towards the dining room, anticipation building like a wave. Churning in the pit of my stomach and rising above to my throat.
Here it is. My moment.
I come up behind Bob, lifting the bat and making contact with his skull. Just hard enough to knock him out for a while. Can’t have him dying before he sees the finale. I see Jen and Katherine sitting at the table.
Then I see the look I have waited for.
Confusion.
Realization.
Fear.
That one’s always been my favorite.
Chaos descends.
June 20th, 2018—Katherine Stacy
10:38 pm
My dad and I used to come out on the roof of our old house and watch the stars at night. We would pull the screen off of my bedroom window and sit on the ledge with our feet hanging off. He would always say that the stars only danced when people were watching so why not give them an audience.
It’s not the same without him. Even more so now since there isn’t a ledge anymore. My apartment has a balcony now. I can still dangle my feet off the edge though.
It was four years ago today. The car crash that took him from me and left me alone. I was only eighteen. I miss him more and more every day. Most girls are closer to their mothers, but my mom was murdered in a home invasion when I was just a baby.
I know, tragic life I lead.
My dad and I, we only had each other. And now I have no one.
“Don’t jump.” Sarcasm drips from his deep voice. The black smoke that follows him envelopes my vision. Well, no one except Azal.
“Always so theatrical.” I wave a hand in front of my face to clear the dark cloud. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t be so dramatic anymore.” I take in his haunting figure like I’ve done thousands of times. His usual black tailored suit, crisp and clean. He looks normal, mostly. I suppose if you know where to look, there’s something off about him. His eyes hold no color; where someone would normally have green, blue, or brown eyes, his are black—as if the pupil has completely expanded. His hair, shoulder-length and dark brown, covers his pointy elvish-looking ears. He doesn’t have horns like some would imagine.
But he does have wings. Dark, beautiful, terrifying wings. He hides them most of the time. I think he’s embarrassed when I stare at them. Who wouldn’t stare though? If anyone could see, they would look.
But maybe that’s why they can’t.
“I never agreed to anything.” He says. Nevertheless, the haze disappears after it carries him up and over the railing and inside the sliding glass door of my apartment’s living room. “Love what you’ve done with the place.” He drawls. I blink; my peaceful time of watching the dancing stars is over now.
“You know I haven’t changed anything since you were here yesterday. You’re so weird.” I take one last deep breath before joining him inside, leaving the door open to let the cool breeze fill the space. The kitchen, adjacent to the living room, allows me to keep an eye on him while I start on the dishes.
He coos. “That cuts me deep, Kathrine. Words hurt, you know.” I watch him elegantly recline on my couch, crossing his ankles on the coffee table in front of him. He picks up the book I had left on the couch cushion yesterday and begins to thumb through the pages. Psyche and Death or something like that.
“I didn’t know you could read, Azal.” I chime over my shoulder as I lower each dish into the hot water one by one. Scrub, wash, sanitize, and dry. The submerged yellow rubber gloves reach my elbows and are for sure a fashion statement.
“Such a flirt. Stop it, Katherine. I might be inclined to show off.” He says. I respond by raising a sculpted brow. He has always liked the banter.
“You? Show off? Never.”
It seemed so ordinary, almost routine. Me washing the dishes, him reading a book. Us bantering back and forth. A housewife and her… whatever…
He places his hand over where his heart should be and makes a face like I had wounded him. His face is perfect. Every angle, every edge. Sculpted to perfection by the fires of Hell. I should be afraid of him, he should scare me, but he doesn’t.
He’s more annoying than anything else. He refuses to tell me anything about himself or why he comes to visit me or why other people can’t see him. All I know is that his presence is not threatening to me and it has something to do with keeping me safe.
From what? I don’t know. What I do know is that whatever it is that he is protecting me from is a fate worse than death.
A silent calm echo’s throughout the room. Silence is one of Azal’s favorite pastimes. No small noises. No breath, no heartbeat. It’s his favorite sound, silence.
I place the last dish carefully into the bottom rack and close it up. I pull a lemon from the bowl of fruit on the counter and cut it into pieces. I distribute those pieces down the garbage disposal, turning it on and then off. The crisp aroma of citrus fills the air and it reminds me of my dad. He taught me that trick. It also masks the smell of sulfur.
Comes in handy these days.
Azal is a demon. He’s visited me ever since I was little. I can remember him sitting with me in my room, sometimes playing dolls with me, while my dad was at work. My supernatural babysitter. Dad couldn’t see him, but somehow it was like he knew he was there.
“Sit with me, Katherine, I wish to discuss something,” Azal comments as he pats the couch, breaking the silence. It’s then that I realize that he’s been watching me. His eyes steady and almost curious. I’m sure they match my own. He doesn’t wait for me to fully sit before he says, “You intrigue me, Katherine Stacie.” He cocks his head to one side. It reminded me of a dog; studying, curious, and playful. He wants to play. Doing as I’m told, I sink into the corner of the couch, melting into the plush leather and soft pillows.
“And why would that be?” I respond, playing his game, crossing my arms.
“Because when you move you display the most amazing grace, but you are stiff and alert. The grace I don’t mind, but the alertness…” He trails off, growing quiet for a moment while he notably thought of how to articulate what he was going to say next.
“I guess we aren’t playing anymore.” I jokingly throw out, trying to lighten the mood.
He gives me a half-smile, pulling at the corner of his mouth. At this point, he’s staring at the wall. Lost in his thoughts. His face becoming a stone. Like one of those gargoyles, you see on old churches.
“Being alert is a good quality to possess. It keeps you on your toes. Which is something you need to have, but I don’t like it. And I don’t like the reason you have this quality. It’s a memory I happily took from you.” He finally breaks the staring competition with the wall. He turns to me and it was then that I saw why he was looking away from me.
This look I’ve never seen before. Fear. He was afraid. In all the time I have known Azal I have never known him to fear anything. What do demons fear? Is that even a thing? “Azal, what do you mean you happily took the memory? What are you talking about?”
He ignores my question, uncrosses his ankles, and begins to sit up. As he is moving I’m watching his body language. He is worried. He is contemplating if he should tell me what’s on his mind. He stands up and moves to sit on the edge of the coffee table directly across from me. His elbows rest on his knees, arms relaxed, shoulders hanging heavy. I mimic his motions and in doing so meet his eyes. Making eye contact with a demon never loses its eeriness. His eyes seemed to go through me.
“Even after I took these memories, somehow you knew. Your mind knew and it created a fear inside you.” He appeared to be talking to himself more than he was talking to me. “I am afraid something is coming, Katherine. And it’s time that you knew the truth. The real truth.”
11:28pm
Azal leaned in toward me from his awkward position on the table. He took my hands in his as if holding my hand would have prepared me for the bomb he clearly was getting ready to drop. I let out a long breath and braced myself. His face did not waiver. He rubbed his thumbs over my fingers being held captive in his hands. I’d never felt his hands before. They were rough but soft. Firm in grip, but gentle enough to not hurt.
“Katherine, I need you to hear me. Be still and hear what I am about to tell you. It will be difficult, but please. Let me get it all out.” He lowered his hand and continued.
“I work for the entity that you know as the devil. My job is to watch. Some days are harder to watch than others. The day your mother died started out like all the other days. People making bad choices, and again, all I am allowed to do is watch. I watched Lucas Strider, your dad’s best friend, go into the house, your house. I saw him hit your dad on the head. I saw him hurt you first. He made your parents watch. That is the type of killer he is. Torment and torture….and people say that my boss is sadistic.” He shook his head in disgust.
“After you were hurt, Luke killed your mother. Slowly. He moved to your father. He stabbed him sliding the blade in inch by inch making sure your father felt the anger Luke had inside of himself.” Tears slowly welled up in his eyes. “I could feel his anger. There was so much rage. There are special places reserved in Hell for monsters like Luke.” Azal clears his throat and collects himself for a moment and then continues. “The neighbors heard the screams and called the police. Luke fled when he heard the sirens, he still hasn’t been caught.”
At this point, he began to tighten his grip on my hands. He was releasing so much information. On one hand, I was sympathetic with the fact that he had held all of this pain inside of him for so long. On the other, I was having trouble computing what was being told to me. He asked me not to interrupt, so I didn’t.
“Bob begged God to do something. I had never seen so much hurt. He was so overwhelmed with the pain of losing you. However, it is a known fact that God does not intervene. You all have free will. With that comes the possibility of directly being affected by others and their choices. Which means Bob wasn’t going to get an answer. So I asked if I could step in. Lucifer said we are only allowed to whisper. We cannot make choices for you. Bob would have to ask. I didn’t have to wait long. He held you in his arms as he bled out. That’s when he called for anyone to help. And it was my doorway to step in. I offered him a deal, a life for a life, a soul for a soul. He could choose only one of you; your mother or you. He chose you. And the time given back would be limited, sixteen years was the max I could give.”
He paused for a minute, possibly to see if I was still breathing. Or maybe it was to see if I was even paying attention since I had been so quiet. I couldn’t speak. I had no idea how to even begin processing all of this information. Time and time again, I had thought of every possible option of the secrets Azal was keeping from me. Never had I imagined this.
He continued after receiving a nod from me, “A few months after your mother passed, Luke found out that you both had survived. He became even more deranged than he already was. He has spent years and years researching and meddling with darkness to try and figure out how it was possible. Finally, he got answers. He’s made a deal with another demon. In exchange for his soul, he would succeed and finish what he started in 1996. Katherine, my darling, he cannot fail.” My stomach drops and the fear I saw in Azal’s eyes, I’m sure, is painted all over my face. Azal speaks again. “This is why I’ve rarely left your side. I swore to protect you. I will continue to protect you until my last breath.”
He looks like he wants to say more but he stops himself. My brows furrow and I’m about to ask but he shakes his head slightly. “Another time…” He trails off.
“Azal, why are you telling me all of this now?” I finally speak. I watch his face soften. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“I often consult with the fates regarding Luke.” He says. “They told me two days ago that he has made a plan. He’s coming, Katherine. Very soon.” I feel like I’m going to be sick. On their own accord, my legs shoot up and I start pacing the small living room.
“So there is nothing I can do to prepare? I can’t do anything to stop him?” The panic is clear in my voice. “I’m just going to sit around and wait to be killed? Again, apparently.”
“Katherine, I’m here with you. You are not alone.” He held his hand up to my cheek.
I looked at him and I could see that he would not leave me here to die. He would be beside me when this all ends. It didn’t remove the fear but it made my heart calm. I placed my hand over his on my cheek. We were holding each other, our eyes locked, our fingers interlaced.
This is closer than I’ve ever been to him and despite it all, I can’t help but notice the heat of his body. I suppose that should be an obvious characteristic of a demon, but it never occurred to me that he would feel so warm. Azal’s eyes flicker to my lips and my tongue pokes out to wet them instinctively. If it’s even possible, his eyes darken even more. He rests his forehead to mine, his breath coming out a little faster than before.
“Kath—”
A knock at the door stops the moment. Azal sees my fear rise up again and we both freeze. “Tell me you ordered a pizza.” My voice comes out in a whisper and I try to make a joke but he doesn’t laugh, just shakes his head slowly. “What do we do, Azal?”
“We run.”