The Shadow

         There, over in the hills it lurks. How long until it strikes? How will it attack? Who will it take from me this time! Too long. Far too long it has been there. Though I never see it I know that it is there. No one sees it. But it is there. I try to warn the people. Get them to fight. But when I do try they feel a great pain of loss. They shift in place, looking at the earth below them and ignore me. Am I the only one who cares?

         I stand alert in front of my house. Watching and waiting. The sun set itself to sleep many hours ago. This is the time that it will strike. At night. Always at night. Thrice before it has come to my home. First it took my eye. There is nothing left where my left eye once was but a burned hole. That's how it left me. Collapsed in my kitchen with one eye socket still smoldering. And twice I have lost a child. First my youngest son, Oleg. And then my elder daughter Elisa. Twice I have been able to do nothing as the beast rampages and takes my children away from me. Now it is just my wife Katrine and I. She doesn't speak to me anymore. Whenever I try to approach her, to console her, she recoils. She must think I am pathetic. I can't even protect my own home. But tonight that changes. Tonight I will have my revenge.

         It approaches. On the edge of my vision I see the shadows shift. Quickly I whip my head around. But still it sits on the edge. Always on the edge. With a gasp of pain I fall to my knees. My mind feels as though it has been dipped in ice water. Seeping into my thoughts and darkening my vision this anguish permeates through me. Struggling through this frigid river pulsing through my mind I collect myself. And when I open my eyes it is only to see a shadow over take me. Falling onto my back I attempt to wrestle it under me. But it is as though I grasp at smoke. There is nothing on me. Leaping to my feet I run into the house and see my wife screaming and running up the stairs followed quickly by a shadow. As I burst into our bedroom where my wife is hiding the shadow is there and my wife is screaming. Grabbing the nightstand next to my door I hoist it. A lamp and a cup of pencils clatter to the floor. I shatter the night stand against the wall with all of my considerable strength. Wood chips fly and I have just made four fine stakes out of the nightstand's legs. Grabbing another leg in my left hand I stalk towards the shadow. There is no fear in me. No doubt. Only rage. A red rage that has over taken me. My mind registers my wife's sobs in a distant corner on my mind. And still I advance on the now cowering shadow. It quivers in place on the floor. It is so afraid of me, of me, that it can not move. I fall upon it with my improvised weapons. My arms fly up and down in rapid succession. My wife stops making fearful noises. My fists and forearms are coated in the shadows dark blood. And the world goes red.

         I awake the next day from the deepest sleep I have ever experienced. It is late afternoon. I must have been asleep for nearly half a day. Rousing myself I walk into the kitchen for milk before I go to tend my farm. Five large gulps of milk and I feel refreshed, energized, excited even. As I walk to my barn to check the cows and ready my tools I notice that my house is quiet. My wife must have gone into town for groceries. Whistling to my self I walk into the barn and see the cows standing frigidly. The usual dull eyed stupidity that greets me every morning has been replaced by wide eyed fear. Their nostrils flare with quickened breathing and their feet shuffle away from me. Ignoring the beasts I prepare my tools and walk into my orchard.

         Apples are everywhere, bright red and beautiful. So red. Trotting under the boughs of my hundreds of apple trees with a smile I come upon two stakes in a cleared patch of ground. Odd. They must be there to mark the site for another tree. So I pull out the stakes, and stop. They look like shattered table legs. The part of the stake that was in the ground is stained brown. Smelling it I can not identify the substance on the wood. So I rub my finger on it and bring a bit of it to my tongue. Pennies. Why does it taste like pennies? Cold. It's getting so cold out. My mind slows to a crawl as it fights off this sudden chill. My body shivers and breaks out in cold sweats. Then it is there. On the edge. The edge as it has always been. The shadow. But it does not strike. It does not move an inch. Slowly it stands and begins to take shape. It turns into a large man, far larger than I. It towers over me. It has no distinguishable features except it's height and it's rakish white smile. Quivering, my knees fall to the ground. My left knee falls on something soft. Too soft to be dry earth. I scrape away a thin layer of dirt. And a hand reveals itself to me. Still the beast stands over me with it's disturbing grin as though it knows a great joke. Digging furiously I find my family. First Katrine, then Elisa, and finally Oleg.