Shadow Lite
Bio
Just a guy who writes stories and tales of a unique sort.
Stories (5/0)
Deadly Wings
Cold wind blows violently across the wild landscape of the mountain region of the Northwest Territories of Canada; not in many years has a winter breeze been this ferocious. Among the rugged, frozen terrain footstep markings are planted along the deep snow, becoming more staggering and elongated as they lead up a small steep hill. At the top of the hill, a large collection of trees covers the majority of the land with many of the dead branches rustling from the wind or some of them on the verge of breaking off. One of those branches eventually becomes weak enough to the point that it breaks off and falls to the snowy ground below. As the branch lands upright into the snow, a wonderer slowly walks past it, leaving a large footstep marking behind. More markings are left behind as the wonderer, wearing prominently black and grey, tattered clothing, continues to slowly walk with the wind still incredibly strong. As the wonderer continues their slow and somewhat treacherous trek, they attempt keep their entire face hidden via a scarf and goggles; without much else and in weather like this, having something is better than nothing. The wonderer remains focused on their trek while the rustling wind continues to flow amongst the trees; branches and twigs also continue to fall onto the ground. As the wonderer makes it to the edge of the hill, they exhale in exhaustion but somewhat relief; that exhale is quickly overtaken by a loud sound which stops the wonderer in their tracks and go completely silent. The wonderer stays in place as they don’t make a move or sound, knowing that, that thud was far different from the numerous fallen branches. As the wonderer attempts to concentrate and listen for anything else, they hear a faint fluttering that becomes more prominent and eventually something lands in front of the wonderer. The wonderer quickly lifts up their goggles revealing their widen eyes, the left bright green and the right blinded, as they are face to face with a small barn owl. As the wonderer stares at the owl, it merely stares back and neither break contact; clearly this is not the first time the wonderer has seen this particular owl. Just as the wonderer takes another step, the owl quickly flies away startling the wonderer, but before they can take a breather they are imminently hit in the right shoulder by an arrow.
By Shadow Lite2 years ago in Horror
Fifteen Minutes
Epilogue: Safe to say not much has changed in terms of success and such. I'm still doing the same things I've been doing before the gig; but the difference now is I know where I stand in terms of what I have to do in order to become a better artist and how to connect to an audience.
By Shadow Lite2 years ago in Journal
Fifteen Minutes
I’ve always been considered an outsider – or “oddball”, “misfit”, “weirdo” – any of those nouns cover the idea. I was the quintessential quiet kid who didn’t play sports, didn’t consider myself “book-smart”, and throw in a fusion of stuttering-social awkwardness you can see why the “outsider” label stuck. It’s no surprise I would always get lost in my head, daydreaming about anything that would come to mind. That would include music wither it be from the radio, a TV show or a movie, a melody or chorus would always creep its way across my brain. And somehow in the weird and often serendipity journey of life I found myself saying the words: “Maybe I can be a musician.” Thus began my life as an artist and over a decade later it’s gone the obvious route you’d expect; lot of failure and losses with sprinkles of personal success here and there. Many EPs in which only three to five people listened to and projects that never came to fruition, but like the influences before me just licked the wounds and kept moving forward. After sometime though some of those hits get to you and combine with phrases of doubt like “Do you think this is worth it?” and “Do you really expect to make money off this one?”; it leads to that low-point feeling where you question if everything was worth it. But of course, I keep going, out of what I don’t know. Maybe it was a gnawing feeling saying “don’t you dare stop!” or maybe it’s just because I’m stubborn (guess you add that to the “outsider” title as well). In any case I continue my work which includes sending emails to promotors in the hope to land live shows and in September of 2021 (at this point live music venues have returned to running shows with updated operations), I received an offer to perform as an opening act on a three-act bill. I accepted the offer and of course took the preparation seriously in the hopes of having a good show; that included planning on a thirty-minute set and trying to get myself into the right headspace. In the time that I’ve been playing I’ve only barely managed to land official paying gigs so when I do get these opportunities, I attempt to give it 100% my all and block out all doubt the best I can. The day of the show (October 2nd, 2021) finally comes and on one hand I feel like I’m ready but on the other hand, I feel like this will be another run of the mill failure. I try to keep my focus though for as far as I’m concerned, I’m performing first and setting the tone for the evening. That quickly changes though as I’m soon informed by the promotor that one of the bands has to leave early and due to the reshuffling, I’ve been thrust into the headlining slot; my thirty-minutes has been extended to a forty-five-minutes. Safe to say this throws me for a loop and of course the initial reaction is panic, but I stop myself to take a breather and think.
By Shadow Lite2 years ago in Beat
Dead Bolt
“’I believe in Valkyrie. I believe in change. With Valkyrie change is…’no, no too derivative.” Jonathan Valken, the 45-year-old CEO of Valkyrie Corp says to himself as he reviews a speech prepared for a public address regarding the attack on the West Facility, a Valkyrie compound. He stands in front of a large mirror located on the side of his large, elegant office with an open balcony overlooking the city of New Kyo, the morning sunlight beaming down as opposed to yesterday’s rain. As Valken reviews his notes on his tablet, he clears his throat and eyes himself in the mirror.
By Shadow Lite3 years ago in Fiction
Dead Bolt
Nightfall looms as heavy rain falls on a dark side street; old rusted lamps flicker showing trash, litter and destroyed remains covering the majority of the street. Footsteps echo in the area which catch the attention of a homeless drifter named Fed who straightens up from laying in a pile of garbage; he rubs his bloodshot eyes in order to get a clearer view of who is approaching him as the footsteps get louder. Fed’s eyes widen and he begins to laugh hysterically.
By Shadow Lite3 years ago in Fiction