The Shadow

“It’s all set man,” finalized Jaime who looked like he was up for a couple of days. He had sweaty beads all over his forehead.

“You have the water guns loaded with holy water, right?” asked Carlos and staring coldly at Jaime.

“I said, it’s all set,” responded Jamie with haste.

“OK!” assured Carlos.

They both kept looking around the living room as looking for anything that was missed. Jaime was lighting all the candles throughout the room as Carlos went around checking the windows. Carlos made sure the windows were locked and checked the garlic belts hanging down.

The apartment building they lived at was a dump. They weren’t apartments. They were more like one-bedroom units with, luckily, a kitchen and a toilet that worked. The building smelled funny every morning from all the fumes that were left behind from all the different kinds of smokers that passed through the night.

The building also housed prostitutes. The whores came in all sizes and in different types of flavors. The building, which was really a brothel, catered to all fetishes. Interestingly, the service that this building provided for the outside perverted world brought people of different social statuses every night. It was a medley gathering of personalities and characters every night at this cockroach-filled building.

The drug dealers at this place were as numerous as the prostitutes. They were the icing on the cake. In the end, the building was a hustler extravaganza with plenty to go around and plenty to give. Somehow, no one ever moved on.

“Where’s Uriel?” asked Jaime.

“He’ll be here,” responded Carlos.

Carlos who was the leader always kept the gang cool. He knew how to control them and keep them comfortable. They were all cold-blooded killers, but they had their fears too.

Knock-knock.

Someone was at the door. They both went for their guns.

“Why are you grabbing the water gun for?” asked Carlos through his teeth.

“What do you mean?” Jaime replied whispering.

“It’s not coming yet, that’s gotta’ be Uriel or someone else,” uttered Carlos.

“It’s already dark!” Jaime stared.

Carlos nodded at Jaime to be ready. Carlos went up to the door and looked through the peephole. He looked relieved and opened the door. Jaime still had his gun ready.

“Put the gun down,” commanded Uriel as he was stepping into the apartment at Jaime who had his gun aimed at the doorway. Jaime’s hands were shaking a bit. Carlos turned around a bit frustrated and repeated what Uriel said to Jaime.

“Are you guys losing it already?” asked Uriel who was sweating beads himself.

Carlos explained that they were worried about him because it was already dark.

The dark was their fear for this night. It was the night that they had to re-negotiate with the Shadow. That’s what they called it. It always lurked in the shadows, and it always came out when least expected. They figured it was better to not know when it came at you.

This time, this night, they knew, and it was making every pore on their skin sweat anything possible. It was making them anticipate one of the most frightening things ever.

The good side about what they were going to experience with this demon or malevolence was the fact that this was the second time with it. They had experience talking with it. Plus, Carlos had run into it when he was hustling in the streets a few times and learned to deal with it.

Jaime had seen it a few times when he was cruising in his Impala down the boulevard. One time, it made him shit his pants so badly that he had to wash the interior of his classic car for a whole day—it was his baby. Jaime always said that the Shadow toyed with him.

“I brought a bible too!” said Uriel as he tossed a brand new leather-covered bible to Carlos. Carlos caught it and took it straight to his nose. He wanted to smell the leather.

“A bible covered with leather?”

“Shut up Jaime and put the fucking water gun in its place!” commanded Carlos.

Jaime listened to Carlos. Uriel went for the kitchen and took out a small mirror from a cabinet and a little sack of cocaine out of his pocket. He started pouring some out of it onto the mirror. Jaime kept looking at him. Carlos was trying to place the Bible on the coffee table where the meeting was supposed to take place.

Uriel was the biggest user out of the three. He loved the stuff. He was the one that would always get it for them when they first started using it. Later, as they moved their way up as dealers in the streets, Jaime started getting hooked. Jaime was a sucker for the whores and the coke intensified the experience with them. He did whatever to have extraordinary sexual adventures.

Word on the street was that Jaime had switched to meth in the last month or so. Carlos didn’t like that. Carlos didn’t have time to talk to Jaime about the meth now. They had another issue to deal with. After the Shadow, Carlos will definitely talk to his boys, especially Jaime, about meth if they make it out alive for the night.

Carlos looked into the kitchen as Uriel was bending down to inhale the rails. Carlos didn’t want to say anything about that. Uriel was the homie. Carlos knew that Uriel always came through when things got tough. Carlos let this one go because he knew they were up against an evil force, and, if they died, they would die doing what they like doing best—getting fucked up!

Carlos also knew that Jaime had been up a while with meth. It was obvious. The guy was twitching and acting like a nervous wreck the whole day while getting ready for this deadly meeting that they sadly set up with the Shadow. Carlos let it go for now. Plus, Carlos has seen Jaime come through on the rarest of occasions while high. Drugs were wickedly their Popeye spinach. It was a sad but true fact about the three, every time they had difficult situations to deal with, they were high.

For this night, Carlos was sober. He had felt the Devil scratch his feet while sleeping a few times at night. His feeling on this one was not very good. He wanted to stay sober for this one time just in case God decided to find an inch of forgiveness. He figured he could use that as an excuse right before the Devil escorted him to Hell.

Uriel came up with his nostrils blaring. He started gagging from the cocaine dripping onto the back of his throat. He started swigging a cold beer to wash down the nasty taste. He looked out into the living room and noticed all the candles lit around the room. Garlic hung at every window that was temporarily shut making the room a bit musty.

“Open the door for a bit to let some air in,” suggested Uriel.

“What!”

“No way,” agreed Carlos with Jaime.

They argued a bit about the room being musty. They also argued about the windows being closed. Carlos convinced them that if shit hit the fan, the Shadow would not be able to fly out the window. It would be trapped in the apartment with them as they would gun it down with the water guns and a super soaker.

Their vampire weapons were hidden throughout the room conveniently and strategically.

Uriel felt the rush in his blood and started to pound beer in order to take the edge away and stay focused. Jaime was already sitting at the couch eyeballing the door with his arm over the armrest. His hand hung right over a water gun lying on the floor hidden by shadows in case he needed to react.

Suddenly a scratching could be heard at the door. Jaime straightened up and sweat beads on his forehead started sparkling in the dark. Carlos shushed everyone in the room.

Scratch, scratch, scratch went the door.

It was silent.

They all knew what to do—stay cool!

Carlos decided to walk over to the door as that was the plan they had gone over the last week or so.

“I’m coming!” Carlos shouted at the door as if it was a normal night.

Carlos peeped through the hole and saw nothing. He turned and gave out the warning. Uriel stood at the kitchen entrance ready to jump on the super soaker filled with holy water right next to the fridge.

All three of them nodded their heads and started to get ready for the beginning of the encounter with the Shadow. Carlos opened the door slowly. When he realized there was nothing there, he opened it all the way.

The light from the hallway was coming in. Jaime was wondering if the water gun could be seen and tried to look down to see if it was true. A man could be heard down the hallway arguing with a whore or maybe his wife.

“It’s only midnight,” said Uriel, “last time we meet this thing at…”

A shadow jumped into the apartment quickly. Jaime froze as he tried to stand up and reach for the water gun. Uriel just stood there, a frozen statue. Carlos held his hand out at them. It was Amigito—a black and white cat that came to them every once in a while. Amigito, which meant little friend in Spanish, was really their little friend that comforted them when they were super hungover or out of thrills. Amigito was very much a street survivor like they were.

“Fuck-fucking Amigito!” stuttered Jaime.

Uriel kind of laughed a bit. Jaime told Uriel to fuck off and started to see red, but Carlos cooled him down with teasing jokes. Carlos always had a way to cool down someone with a teasing joke. The women that followed Carlos loved that special trait about him. He could talk shit to you and you were cool with it. It was part of his charm.

“Didn’t I tell you that this cat is bad luck!?” Jaime was pointing and staring down at the black and white cat as he had stood straight up.

“Ah, c’mon holmes, just ‘cause he scared the shit out of you…” continued Carlos with his teasing.

“I hate cats,” a voice said from the hallway.

The creepy voice that was followed with cold air made all the hairs on the back of their necks stand up. Amigito squirmed his way out of Carlos’s grasp that had already weakened from hearing the wicked voice. The black and white cat crept like a weasel toward the kitchen as it moaned heavily. They all looked out the hallway. The Shadow stood there like a silhouette at the doorway.

“Are you going to invite me in?”

It was silent for a second until Carlos decided to speak up.

“You may enter,” stated Carlos with fright hidden inside.

The Shadow smiled a mile wide. It put its right foot across the doorway and planted it on the old burnt red carpet. It leaned its head into the apartment and looked both ways with its white eyeballs that had no irises. Those eyes only had tiny pupils. Then, the left leg followed, and it made its way into the apartment.

The Shadow was a male. He had long dirty, yellowish hair with a chiseled anorexic white face. His hair went down to his shoulders. His lips were a pale red, and his larynx protruded incredibly. This Adam’s apple that the Shadow had was the catalyst when it came to hypnotizing his victims because it went up and down constantly whenever he talked. He, of course, wore a black suit. He was dressed like a Quentin Tarantino villain in fact—a simple black suit with a white shirt and a skinny black tie. His hands bore long stiff nails that would make a fandango guitar player cream in his pants. Oh yes, he also had his leather black shoes, the shiniest part of him.

“You may enter,” the Shadow sarcastically mocked Carlos. Everyone just stared at him. The Shadow started laughing. It was an elegant laugh that ended abruptly with a cold stare that was directed towards Jaime. Jaime sat there panicking inside. The Shadow smelled the fear.

“Relax my little homies,” the Shadow added to bring calmness into their hearts because he could see the blood pumping through their veins like electric racecars.

As the Shadow moved a little more, as if insinuating to sit down on the couch, he said, “Do you guys get high so you can cope with me or what?”

“Ha, Ha!” busted out Uriel, “that’s funny!”

The Shadow looked at Uriel with his wicked eyes. The Shadow saw the garlic on the window sills. He laughed a little as the eyes darkened with a reddish glow. The Shadow pointed at a lonely chair that was made of wood right across from the couch.

“Is that chair taken?” the Shadow asked Carlos in a sarcastic manner.

Carlos nodded his head and everyone sat down.

Uriel was still at the kitchen doorway.

Amigito was still moaning in the kitchen, and it was getting louder.

With a sudden burst of anger, “Why doesn’t anyone shut that cat the fuck up!” yelled the Shadow with a deep horrendous voice. They all jumped but froze at the same time.

Uriel decided to quickly grab the cat and toss it out the kitchen window. Amigito looked back as Uriel was closing the window. It stood there for a bit like it was saying goodbye to his friends. After that, it jumped into the night to get away from the evil it had seen.

“OK, let’s begin,” stated Carlos.

“First,” interrupted the Shadow, “what is this thing about me being called the Shadow?”

Carlos explained that they called him that because he was like a shadow. No one could ever see him coming. The Shadow explained that it was a lie. He told them that he roamed at night looking normal like everyone else. How else would he entice people? The Shadow explained that he would not be able to walk around like he looked that night without people freaking out.

“I’m showing my true self to you gentlemen, because we are in business, right?”

Carlos agreed and did the rest of the group. The Shadow told them that from now on, he is to be called Maximus. Uriel asked Maximus why, and Maximus told them that it would be proper to call each other by their names when making business. They all agreed.

“Now,” Maximus leaned forward and crossed his fingers, “what is the new bargain?”

“We thought we could just continue the same way we have been for the last four months,” Carlos stated.

“I’ve killed every single one of your enemies,” said Maximus as he turned slowly to look at Carlos.

The eyes kept glowing with a red tint.

Jaime was grasping lower towards the water gun by the couch. Maximus turned quickly at him. Maximus’s pupils started going down where the water gun was.

“Well what do you suggest?” asked Uriel from the back.

Maximums closed his eyes and started smiling.

“When I first ran into you Uriel, you were a hoodrat and you had nothing going for yourself. I was going to devour you, but you said something that lit something strange in my damned mind,” said the vampire.

“I made a pact with you to spare my life,” Uriel added.

Maximus explained that he was going to rip Uriel’s throat that night, but he didn’t because Uriel pleaded for his life with a pact.

The pact was that Uriel and his friends, Carlos and Jaime, were going to point out certain people in the neighborhood for Maximus to eat and fulfill his appetite. Maximus liked the idea and agreed to the pact presented by Uriel.

Out of the hundreds of years that he existed, Maximus never thought to make a pact with a human. It was something new for him. In return, the boys made money by taking over the jobs or hustles from all the hustlers and dealers that were killed by Maximus. Basically, the boys became kings in their hood by having a vampire working for them. What worried the boys was that the vampire never asked for anything in return. Maximus just kept asking who they wanted dead every weekend.

“Doesn’t it make you guys wonder why I agreed to your pact?” asked Maximus as he was cleaning his long sharpened nails.

“I always did,” said Carlos as he was gripping a water gun with his left hand that was hidden between the pillow and armrest of the couch.

“I let you guys live because I wanted to have friends for once!” stated Maximus as he took his focus away from his nails and stared at the boys with his wicked smile.

They all felt relieved a bit, but not sure what the heck the vampire meant.

Vilma entered the room suddenly from the hallway. The door was not locked and Vilma always came on Fridays to pick up her stash for the weekend. Vilma was a prostitute.

Like a blur, Maximus shifted from the chair to a lethal position behind Vilma. His fangs were out and ready to bite into Vilma’s neck. Maximus’s eyes glowed like cats' eyes do at night, reflecting light. Vilma was frightened stiff with her arms stretched straight down. The grip on her neck by Maximus was so tight that it stiffened Vilma’s body. The boys got up a second after Maximus made his move. They had their water guns out and aimed.

“Boys,” said Maximus as he retracted his bite from Vilma’s neck. His glowing eyes kept staring at the water guns. Vilma under submission was yelling in Spanish as best as she could all kinds of obscenities. Maximus’s grip tightened on her throat and it stopped.

“Let her go!” demanded Carlos.

“Her?” Maximus looked at Carlos directly in the eyes with a confusing stare.

“What!?” asked Jaime and very puzzled.

Jaime realized that Vilma was not a woman right then and there. He started dropping his water gun. Something was bothering Jaime. Maybe it was because there was the time when Vilma gave him a blowjob by the dumpster one fucked up night.

As soon as Jaime started lowering his water gun, the Shadow took advantage of the situation by ripping Vilma's neck with his hag-like nails and flew out the door into the hallway. Carlos darted for Vilma who was dropping slowly gurgling with her blood. Carlos caught her and put his right hand on her neck to apply pressure. In that strange moment, he was trying to feel for an Adam’s apple to see if Vilma was a man. It didn’t matter.

“I don’t have a penis,” she said between the gurgles.

“Get a rag or towel!” yelled Carlos.

Uriel was coming to the rescue as Jaime just stared down at Vilma’s crotch almost wanting to touch it to see if it was true.

“I was always a woman even when…” her eyes rolled back as the blood kept spilling out and warming up Carlos’s hand.

Jaime grabbed his hair with both hands.

“What do we do now?” asked Uriel.

“You never knew that Vilma was a man once?” asked Carlos.

They all jumped back and saw the Shadow on the ceiling. The vampire was looking straight down at them in a Spider-man position—his back against the ceiling with his pale hands right next to him glued onto the ceiling as well as his feet, knees bent and aiming right at the boys. The door inexplicably shut hard, cracking it down the center vertically.

The boys reached for their guns and looked for the glowing eyes as the candle lights went out when the door shut. They started squirting the whole apartment with holy water. Every once in a while, the Shadow could be heard squealing from a spray followed by a burning sound.

Suddenly, Carlos felt his neck tightening up. It was the Shadow and it had a good grip on his throat. Carlos thought he was going to die right away. He tried to shoot behind his head with the water gun, but Maximus stopped the attempt lighting fast. Blood started gushing down Carlos’s right hand as his arm was slashed with sharp nails right across the wrist.

“Turn on the lights Jaime,” demanded the beast.

Carlos could hear Jaime stumbling through the dark. Just the light from the night sky came into the room through the windows.

The light came on. Vilma was dead with her blood still spilling all over the ragged, red carpet. Jaime was sweating thick beads of sweat all across his body. His clothes were practically wet from all the meth coming out of his pores. Uriel was dead as well on the couch face down. His neck was torn apart and blood was coming out of his body like a weak geyser.

Carlos saw this and felt anger rising.

Jaime kept his eyes on the Shadow. He looked like he was ready to dart out the door and leave Carlos to handle the problem. Deep down inside, Jaime knew that he was not going to get far if he attempted to run.

“What’s your deal Maximus?” managed to ask Jaime.

“My deal is that I never make deals. That stupid pact I made with you guys a while back was just a joke! Everyone knows that when you make a pact with the Devil you never win. Trust me, I know! I’m just being as sinister as a demonic son-of-a-bitch beast can be because that is what I was made to be!” boldly stated Maximus.

“So you could have killed us out on the street as well? We never had any protection from the pact?” asked Jaime.

“Correct,” answered the Shadow.

“So you’re just going to kill us?”

There was a pause. The Shadow’s white eyes kept staring at Jaime blankly as he felt Carlos’s blood pumping under his tight grip.

“Yes.”