a SHadow's embrace

Once the blood had started to spill, the boy stepped back and observed his work. The shade of sanguine that was splattered across the floor also painted his sword, holding as a symbol of his victory. Amir placed the weapon back into it’s sheath as he picked up the severed head and sprinted back to Emberforge, the rush of wind sweeping over his hair. Emberforge was the ground he had recently been moved to, it’s status in society holding far more worth than what he could ever dream to possess. Within this new structure, he had also been assigned a new mentor - Vaelthorn. Despite his migration being called a “promotion”, Amir wouldn’t agree; there was one figure that he could never look past. Whenever he trained - that thing was there, whenever he brought home a success - it was there, whenever Amir was sleeping - he could feel it watching him. There was an unshakeable feeling of constantly being observed, but he supposed that’s the sort of stalker-type behaviour that came hand in hand with being part of Emberforge - the facility that held the best warriors in the country. This body, however, was not more human than a doll; the beady eyes that never left you, the cold stare that you received any time you dared to sneak a glance, the bile that begins to rise up your throat whenever you sense it’s presence.

Amir named it “Max” - meaning the greatest - for the irony. This apparition was nothing short of being a nuisance, causing paranoia to strike whenever the thought of it appeared. 

Stepping foot onto the familiar soil that he now called home, Amir unsheathed his sword and placed it on the wall, among the other items of weaponry used in battle. He left the dagger within his shirt, not trusting to be safe without it. Gripping onto the head by it’s strands of hair, he wandered around the building until coming in front of Vaelthorn’s office. The word ‘office’ sometimes felt too formal for what was really only a room filled with blood-stained certificates of achievement and the odd artifact picked up from the mentor’s travels, and yet Vaelthorn insisted that the name suited the structure. Rapping on the door once, twice, three times, it eventually swung open and Amir entered. 

“Yes?” The gruff voice greeted him, the owner of it not even providing a glance to the boy. 

“He’s dead, sir.”
Having captured his attention, Vaelthorn blew out the lit match that he was holding and threw it onto the floor, where it joined the others.
”Very good. I knew you could do it.”
”Of course, sir. You’re always right.” Vaelthorn’s trust in Amir could fill a thimble, with the man having told him that himself. He always doubted Amir, telling him before each quest that nothing much was expected. He was new, with hardly an inch of true experience in a battlefield as some of the other fighters, so no one thought of him as anything exceptional. Depsite only living at Emberforge for a month, Amir knew, like all of the others, that it was best to indulge in Vaelthorn’s ego instead of providing an accurate account of what was actually said. 

“You can go and place it with the others.”
Amir nodded. With this, Vaelthorn leaned back in his chair and struck another wooden match, the blaze enticing and violent. Each lick of the flame reaching greater heights, begging to be stared at. The mentor glared up to the boy, sizing him up before asking, “What are you still doing here, boy?”
“Oh- Oh right. Yes, of course. Sorry, sir.” Amir stumbled out of the office, scolding himself for being so foolish as to not have left earlier. 

Treading down the straw paths, he found a spot amongst the other bodiless heads and placed down his own. Sighing, a chill of foreboding travelled down his spine, a shiver of unease sent jolts throughout his veins, his skin prickled with an ominous sensation - something uncomfortable and strange, and yet so oddly familiar within the same breath. Glimpsing to his surroundings, the corridor that had previously surrounded him stretched long, a tunnel of suffocating darkness and silence where even the brightest of lights could become lost. The unyeielding stretch of doom, where even the slightest pin drop could be amplified into the most thunderous echo, air thick with an oppressive stillness, tension filled each crack and crevice as though something was waiting and ready to pounce. 

Focusing intently into the depths of the winding shadows, Amir took a hesitant step forwards, his stomach churning and head pounding. His heart was in his throat, thumping and thumping and thumping - each strike pleading him to return.

What did he have to lose? 

His family had been killed years ago within the Battle of Ashen Dawn, a war fought so ferociously that the country could never forget. With no relatives, he was forever alone - no connections had even been created between anyone, and he doubted that he would ever form a bond within the future. His only purpose in life was to fight - it was all he had ever been taught and all he had ever known. He had been brought up within a period of revolution and blood-shed, and was reminded of it with each day that he woke up without someone to care for him. He had been forced into a life of murder and war because it was the only option for a man in this world - to live, to fight, to die. It was an honour to die with another man’s sword through your heart; it was another honour to be the one to stake your sword through another man’s heart. Slaughter and massacres were encouraged through the very best being rewarded with titles and money. 

Who doesn’t want status and honour?

Catching his mind wandering, he instantly became aware of where he had landed. Taking that one step hadn’t stopped him from taking more, and now he was stuck with the gloom, within the abyss of the void. Having been consumed by the darkness, he noticed how it felt more…alive, compared to what it had felt like before. Despite his previous concerns about a shadow lurking, he now knew that his suspicions were more of a fact due to the unexpected stroke of a finger trailing down his back. 

One slash.

His shoulders tensed as the line dragged up towards his neck.

Another.

It swooped down towards the middle of his back, a chill branching out and erupting across his backbone. 

And another.

His chest tightened as a cold tremor passed through him, as icy as though the air itself had frozen.

And another.

Then there was nothing.

Washing away like the tide on a beach, the apprehension melted away and a restrained breath escaped his lips without it meaning to. Attempting to remember the pattern of the lines, he struggled to recall what the finger had created. 

Like a thunderclap after a long stretch of quiet, it hit him. His mind, tangled with strands of confusion, cleared as the letter M fell into place. 

Encompassed. 

He was entrapped within the bowels of the beast he had so bitterly named Max. A shadowed finger tapped on his shoulder, it’s arms slithering up his neck; Amir remained still, not processing how he should react. Both arms wrapped themselves around his throat, gripping tighter and tighter by the second. A vise that couldn’t loosen, a suffocating pressure stopping his words from falling.

“Amir.” The grumbling voice oozed with malice, dripping with disdain, uttered his name, “How pathetic you are.”
”Where am I?” He choked out, coughing as the words left him. He knew for certain that he was no longer at Emberforge and the current area looked like nothing he was familiar with. 

A dark laugh, as though it had been dragged from the depths of somewhere hidden, emerged from it’s mouth, “Too far away for anyone to care.”

The voice caused a heavy rumble, shaking Amir as he stood in a trance-like state. His eyes were wide, his pupils dilated and unseeing - glazed over and lost due to the intensity of his fear. His breathing came and went in shallow, irregular gasps, barely audible. Limbs stiff and almost lifeless - he could easily be tossed and turned in any which way without any sort of complaint. Drained of colour, pale, his face had a subtle sheen of sweat lacing his forehead, despite him being seemingly unaware of it. 

“What are you going to do?” He mumbled, petrified for the response.

The creature’s voice echoed, ringing within Amir’s mind, “I’m going to feed on you. I’ll stay with you, always and forever. You’ll feel me as I consume your energy, your thoughts, your hopes. Eventually, I’ll devour you until there is nothing left except your skeleton.”

Amir’s fingers twitched as though trying to break free from the ever tightening grip that the shadow held on him. His eyes darted eratically from side to side, searching for an escape but finding none. His very soul, in flight from something that he would now never be able to leave. 

“Nothing to decipher that you existed apart from a few bones that can very easily be discarded.” It muttered, the voice becoming nothing more than a breath. 

As though the final piece of a puzzle had finally slotted into place, Amir knew his route of freedom.

Noticing how there was nothing to restrain his hands, he stretched his fingers, releasing them from the mental control that he had placed upon himself. Weighing on the surface of his chest, the blade of the dagger pressed into his skin, imprinting it’s existence into his mind. He controlled his breathing so that it was no longer a short, sharp intake of breath, but rather a steady, substantial inhale. Within an instant, he had plunged for the weapon, grasping it from under his shirt. Swivelling to face the beast, he allowed the blade to protect him as it was held in front of the boy. Max dived for Amir, growing his body into triple his usual size, as an attempt to absorb him. 

It was far too late.

Amir took the sharp point and thrusted it into his chest, piercing his shirt, skin, and his internal organs. Staggered gasps left his mouth and his shirt began to stain crimson. He collapsed to the floor, hunched over on his knees - droplets of blood created a puddle below his body and his hand grasped the wound before becoming limp and slipping into the liquid. Black spots darkned his vision, similar to static on a television. His head began to whirl, thrumming and pounding as though shouting at him to make it all stop. Unbearable pain coursed through his veins but it was worth it if it meant that Max would never be able to live off of his body. Eyes clenched shut, blood slipped out of the injury quicker than before and he could feel every mililitre that was lost. Raggedly, he exhaled his final breath before his elbows gave in and he dropped face first onto the slippery, solid ground. A carmine shade splattered across his features, staining his cheeks as though he was a circus clown with too much makeup, staining his eyelids, and staining his body with a mark. A mark blatantly clear to Max that it’s food was no longer good enough to eat. A mark screaming that Amir no longer had any life left in him.

Max fell beside the body, feeling for a pulse that no longer inhabited Amir. Splutters had begun to occupy the corridor, with Max clawing at it’s neck; it’s darkened eyes widened in horror as it’s throat continued to restrict. Pain lurched it to the floor, it’s palms hitting the ground as it heaved and gasped - it attempted to feel for it’s surroundings, trying to search for any sort of life form to attatch to. 

Nothing was around - it had shifted so far away from the previous building that there were no bodies around for miles. Particles began to dissipate from the soul, becoming a molecule within the air and leaving Max with nothing to hold on to. With no being to feed off of, it was alone. Solitude always held a place for it, seclusion being the only comfort that it had always known. Screams impaled the tranquility - screams of an entity that was soon to no longer exist. Every sense was ignited, each pull of a particle leaving it was torture - as though it was being burnt alive and each flame only grew hotter with each moment that passed. 

Hollow, empty breaths left the creature. Hunger and thirst became the enemy. It wanted more. It always wanted more. It couldn’t stop wanting more. 

A salty tear fell from the corner of it’s eye, dripping down until reaching the pool of blood that Amir had left behind. It dropped with a splash, hardly desaturating the deep red. 

The beast’s chest heaved for the final time, a broken sigh tumbled from it’s throat before it’s mouth evaporated with the rest of it’s existence.

Nothing remained. 

Not even the thought of it survived, because everything it touched died.