Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-35973449-20180625160812

Kevin bolted to an upright position, his eyes wide with terror. "The shadows are coming," he spoke, his voice meek with fear. Kevin's head pounded with the onslaught of a horrid migraine. He drew his knees to his chest and hugged them tightly. "Please, please, go away," Kevin begged to the open midnight air. He drew out puffs of white smoke from his lungs. Despite the chill outside, he asked that his window remain open at all times. There had to be a way for them to escape.

It was nearing two in the afternoon. Kevin sat down on a cheap plastic chair with short metal legs. The chair groaned at the weight that bore down on it. The Styrofoam cup in his hand shook. He took a sip of stale warm coffee and cringed at the bitter flavor.

He stretched his neck and stared at the tiled ceiling while he counted the lines that crisscrossed against one another in a dizzy pattern until his stomach began to churn. Despite the queasy feeling in his stomach, staring and counting calmed him. The room was almost empty aside from a number of cheap chairs that sat in a circle, equal to the one Kevin was sitting on. An old coffee maker sat on a cardboard table covered in coffee stains and watermarks.

Despite the near empty room, Kevin felt as if he were standing in a tiny rank bathroom, filled with sweat-soaked men, instead of in a group therapy session. He scrunched his nose in an attempt to clear away the smell. Dark purple circles surrounded his dull, pale, gray eyes. He couldn't always smell them like that and his eyes weren't always pale and gray.

A man spoke Kevin's name, it was his therapist Doctor Jones. His tone was full of arrogance and egotism, or perhaps that was just Kevin because he hadn't always been this aware.

"Kevin?" Dr. Jones asked a second time. Kevin cast his eyes down at the man who had spoken.

"Yeah?" he replied to Dr. Jones, his tone showing an obvious lack of attention.

"Yesterday you were talking about the mugging. I would like you to continue, that is if you still feel up to it?" Dr. Jones said. His voice flared indignantly.

Kevin pushed back the sneer hiding between his dry lips. He let out a deep sigh and uttered some short explanation to satisfy the man. "I was jogging, it was late at night. I was at the park. I was mugged. I woke up in the hospital. Then they sent me here after I had healed. What more is there to say?" The last sentence was spat out as if Kevin has actually spat on the man.

Dr. Jones furrowed his bushy dark brown eyebrows and asked, "What about the tattoos?"

Kevin dropped his head and pulled the sleeve of his shirt down over his wrist to cover the thick black ink that had been forced onto his skin. "I don't know," he replied, his voice suddenly soft.

"What about the blood, Kevin? How did you get so much of it on you?" Dr. Jones continued.

Kevin snuffed air out of his chest, "I don't know," He replied, his tone growing hard.

"And the shadows? Kevin, can you tell us about the shadows?" Dr. Jones continued as if each word was a hard fist pumped into his burly chest.

This time Kevin did sneer his words, filled with hate and desperation only he could understand. "I don't know," Kevin replied, his teeth clenched.

"Yeah, Kevin what about them?" a man's voice called out.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"You can tell us," a man sitting to his left spoke.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"We all shared, tell us about the shadows," said the man across from Kevin.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"Did you mean to kill them?" the man spoke who sat on his right.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"Did it feel good?" another male voice asked.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"Do you still see the shadows?" another male voice questioned.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"Tell us!" yet another male voice demanded.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Kevin felt it build inside of him with each new voice. He felt as if the circle of men was drawing in on him, moving closer, and tighter. He could almost hear their thoughts shouting at him, "Murderer, killer, lunatic!" His fists clenched until his nails dug red half-moon circles into his sweaty palms. His heart beat fast and he tightly clamped his jaw. "Disgusting, they are all disgusting! Good for nothing...!" Kevin's mind screamed at him.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Finally, he could no longer contain himself. Kevin bolted from the chair so quick that it flew backward and landed on its side. His face was red, and his eyes bright with rage. "Shut up! Shut up! Just all of you, Shut up! You mundane pieces of filth! You go through your lives leaving dirty and stink where ever you go! You understand nothing! You ignorant, disgusting, selfish pricks!"

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Glass shattered behind him a window splintered and spewed shards into the room. The group of men sat dumbstruck for a few brief moments and then panic ensued. Men fled out of the room, men fled into the room, and confusion ran rampant. All the while Kevin stood unmoved by the events taking place. His chest heaved in and out. His lips were still pressed tightly together. His fists remained clenched even as blood dripped from his hands and fell to the hard cement floor.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">It was nearing midnight. The cold air pushed goosebumps across Kevin's arms. He could have the window open, but he was not allowed to wear long sleeves to bed. Kevin lay awake in bed, his eyelids slightly drooping. His mind was dull and recovering from a drug-induced sleep.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">It began a tiny pinprick at the base of his skull that slowly spread to the sides of his temples. He could feel them creeping up again. The shadows: blurry, splotchy, human shapes fading in and out of his vision. Kevin felt like he was free falling into a massive black bottomless pit, voiceless and without control. It was just like that night, and he was reliving it all over again.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">The night was brisk, fall was fighting a losing battle against the coming winter. The leaves had fallen, wiped away by strong winds. There were a few scattered people in the park. Here a couple held each other close and whispered sweet sentiments of love in the dark. A homeless man huddled near a thick bush, an old tattered blanket held close to hold in the warmth of his body.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Kevin's feet tapped heavily against the black pavement. His arms pumped, and his breath was steady and even. Rock music barred from small planted earbuds, edging him on, encouraging him to push farther. He rounded a corner where two tall hedges met at an angle. Kevin suddenly found himself on the ground.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Something large and thick had struck him on the side of his head. Sharp pain screamed at him, and blood dripped from the open wound. His hands grabbed at the wound, frantic and full of shock. He had fallen on his backside, but the new wound took all his concentration.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Two dark figures loomed over him. Kevin blinked at a rapid pace; his eyes finally focusing. Everything was clear. He could see the tree behind the figures tall and leafless, the concrete black and grainy, and the grass was green and crisp even in the dark. The moon and stars were crystal clear above the figures.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">They were blurred limbless shadows among the clarity.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Something inside of him screamed in horror and disbelief. Kevin glared at the figures, searching. A new revelation seared into his brain. Empty, they were both empty! Hollow, hazy, inhuman shells! The shadows drew closer to Kevin. He wanted to run. He wanted to run until his feet bled and every breath he took stung with agony. Still, he remained on the hard ground, unable to move as if something heavy pushed against him. His head spun and his vision blurred once again.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">He was screaming so hard his throat hurt, his head hurt, and his entire body felt like it was on fire. People were all around him moving too quick for his bludgeoned mind to keep up. He was covered in something sticky. It felt as if his skin was growing tighter and tighter around his body. Someone was calling his name, but he couldn't make out who. A quick sharp prick and he fell into a deep, troubled sleep.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">He was awake and alert. Two police officers stood near the hospital bed he was sitting on. He held his head in his hands. He was angry. One officer asked him to tell the story again. He gritted his teeth and told them what happened. Something smelled, but he couldn't determine what it was. It smelled like rank old sweat.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">A man was standing in front of Kevin. It was as if the man's arrogance spewed from him like a head wound. He was telling Kevin that two bodies had been recovered from the park. The bodies were of two men. The outfits they were wearing were black. The two men carried a large black canvas bag. The bag contained a number of items used in a robbery that took place shortly before Keven's was assaulted. Kevin had been struck with a hammer. The two bodies were gouged deeply in the chest with some unknown weapon. The smell of wet laundry left to rot invaded Kevin's nose. He rubbed his nose trying to rid himself of the smell.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"Let's try this again." The older officer spoke. "Come on kid, what did you hit them with?" Kevin shook his head vigorously. "I didn't..." He muttered.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"Look we know they hit you so you're not in trouble. What happened?" The younger officer nearly shouted.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"I already told you." Kevin tossed out his voice becoming tense.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You got hit and then these shadows appeared. Come on kid give us a break." The older officer replied and crossed his arms against his chest.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Confused and enraged, Kevin threw himself at the man. No matter how many times Kevin had explained no one listened. Not the police, not the doctors, not the caseworker assigned to him, no one.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Kevin was sent away, filed under case closed, sanity pending.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">The shadows didn't care if no one believed him. The headaches still came and his eyes still blurred. The shadows still flooded into the night claiming him like some prized trophy prey. They climbed over his body, intruding into every space and every tiny pore. They filled him full of terror and anxiety that only a heart attack could clear. When he was close to screaming they were suddenly gone. Like an old mangy rat in the night, stealing crumbs from a bakery. They always came back to nibble again.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">It was another night of lying awake in bed waiting for sleep to finally claim him. The patients were sent back to their rooms, the window was boarded shut, and the glass was cleaned up. Kevin was the only one that remained. His eyes were shut. He was concentrating on slowing down his heartbeat. Blood rushed in his ears in a steady rhythm.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"One, two, three... One, two, three..." Kevin softly spoke to himself. The smell, that god awful smell of rot and decay hung in his nostrils. It mixed with the heavy saltiness of perspiration. Something else was there too, the tangy smell of iron. Like rust on a copper penny.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"Kevin, come on. It's time to go back to your room." A woman's voice stung his ears with failed kindness.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"Kevin?" She tried again pricking his ears with a flowery tone.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Kevin growled. It was low and guttural, "go away."The smell of her perfume overpowered his nose. He flared his nostrils and coughed. It was a sickly sweet smell.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">She touched Kevin's hand and he screamed in horror. He jerked back his hand and jumped from the chair. He held his hand and rubbed it like he was wounded. "Don't fucking touch me! Ever! You hear me!" Kevin yelled at the woman his voice cracked.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">He stared hard at her, spit thickening at the corners of his mouth. She wore a look of concern tears were forming in her eyes. He felt a tinge of regret, he wished he could go back before the shadows touched him. When everything was beautiful and the colors were vibrant and joyful. It was a facade but at least he was blissfully unaware. He wanted to apologize then but that damned sweet smelling repugnant perfume climbed inside his mouth and made him choke. He wanted to slap the woman. Slap her over and over until she lied in a lump on the floor motionless.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Her face relaxed and she pointed towards the door. "You need to leave now before I call the orderlies." He voice was bereft of any kindness.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Kevin left still cradling his hand. When he got to his room he was greeted by an orderly who held a small paper cup containing two small white pills. He begrudgingly took the pills and swallowed them. The orderly left his room and he lied down on his hard institutional bed. It creaked and groaned but he paid no attention to it. He closed his eyes and waited.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">A headache pulsed and became a full-on migraine, spreading from the back of his head to the sides of his temple and finally resting at his forehead. His body began to shake as the shadows rose from the dark over his body. He tried to stay still. Maybe if he stayed still they would leave him alone. His ears pricked he wanted to scream. He wanted to scream so loud and so long that his voice would leave him in silence. It started as a tickle on the tip of his right thumb. The tickle became an itch. It slowly climbed up his hand and flared into blazing heat when it reached his wrist. His skin suddenly burst into heated pain. He did scream then but no sound escaped his lips.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">The black of the shadows covered him like a thick mist cooling his skin. Kevin felt instant relief. He felt himself being slowly pulled away from his room. The heat was gone, the chill of the air was leaving him. He was being drawn away from the stink and arrogance. The faint smell of sweat and dank musk seemed farther and farther away. He left behind the dull thud of pain and the constant headaches. His anger and confusion left him, replaced by a calm reassuring relief.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">A voice softly whispered to him, "Kevin you're coming with us. You don't belong here. Stay with us." Kevin smiled as the mist reached his face and surged over his head.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Kevin's therapist stood at the window, inside of Kevin's empty room. He placed his hands on the bars of the window and pushed. The bars did not move.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">They filled a missing person's report a day after the hospital was thoroughly searched. His therapist was unsure of what to make of Kevin's disappearance. They checked the cameras, spoke with the night guards and nurses, and then checked every inch of Kevin's room. The cameras revealed nothing. The guards and nurses had nothing to contribute, and there were no clues in Kevin's room. There were no traces of Kevin's escape from the hospital.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">"It's as if he has simply vanished." The therapist said out loud to himself and stared out of the window. Kevin was never found. Somewhere in the depths of it all, he was elsewhere among the shadows and in the darkness.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; border-top: none; border-bottom: 1px solid #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; padding-top: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in">

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"> <ac_metadata title="Shadows, (Needs review please)"> </ac_metadata>