Shadow Beats

The day was playing out like any other, with the chilly December morning delivering all of its customary weather to the citizens of New York. Damion Ricci, a young man of thirty years, looked past the dark foyer and to the small octagonal window on the right of his front door. He released a heavy sigh as he saw delicate snow flakes tumble past the window pane and nosedive into the cedar bushes below. He hated the cold, always had. Even as a kid he opted to stay inside with his mother anytime the air dropped below fifty degrees. Todays weather was especially irritating as Damion thought on all the work that was waiting for him at the office. Just days before, as he was heading home for the weekend he might add, his boss had pulled him aside and asked him to direct a project organizing designs for several of the company's social media platforms. According to his higher ups, fashion was changing with the season and therefore the social media accounts had to follow. Not that it was going to be a lot of work. In fact, Damion found it all rather easy after being in the business for close to a decade. No, the amount of work wasn't what bothered him. What really bothered him was the repetitiveness of it all. Damion, as much as he appreciated having such a well paying job and the comfortable life it afforded him, often found himself dreaming about what sort of challenges and rewards he might experience if he just had the courage to get away from his everyday cycle of plopping himself down into his office chair and filing the same boring documents, making the same boring conversation with his co-workers, and reporting the same boring overview of the days progress to his boss. God, it would be so freeing to get away from it all. He just knew it would be.

“Alright, let’s put that thought on the back burner," he mumbled to himself lowly while pulling his maroon satin tie through its final loop. He smoothed it down the front of his loose fitted white button-up.

The raven haired man looked into the mirror above the small mahogany entryway table, observing the circles under his eyes and searching for any out of place hairs. His baby blues were framed by midnight lashes as they traced the edges of his porcelain face. He used the back of his palm to feel for any out of sight blemishes on the back of his neck and under his well defined jaw. Finding none and satisfied with his appearance, Damion threw on his gray woolen coat and matching scarf before scooping up the messenger bag at his feet and grabbing the keys off their rack by the door. He steeled himself for the bitterly cold onslaught that awaited him and hastily threw open his front door, only for it to immediately slam itself shut.

"What the hell?" Damion stared at the door flummoxed. This was his Grandfather's old house that he had left Damion in his will, along with a $20,000 inheritance which he was keeping saved up, and it had never once done anything so weird in his entire life. He reached for the silver doorknob tentatively, twisting it ever so slightly. Just enough to hear the lock free itself of the doorway. He slowly started to pull and for a second Damion thought the weird encounter over with. That is until it reached a mere three feet in width before jerking itself closed once again. Damion stood there, hand still outstretched as if expecting the door to swing itself open and fit itself back into his grip. Which, considering it shut itself to begin with, wasn’t such a far fetched idea in his mind.

A few moments passed and Damion let his arm fall to the side before turning his head to the right and glancing at the clock above his mantle place in the family room. It read 7:35am and Damion swore under his breath as he realized he was going to be late if he didn't leave right this second.

Thinking the door was just acting weird because of a loose screw or hinge, Damion went for the handle a third time, intent on just wedging himself through. However, this time the knob wouldn't even turn. At this point, Damion was fed up and angry at the late start to his day and started banging on his front door while aggressively trying to turn the knob. After a minute of useless hammering, he marched into the family room and yanked his windowsill open, only for it to smack shut forcefully, nearly taking his fingers out in the process. A heavy silence filled the room as Damion, unsure of what to make of the situation, stared blankly at the soft white snow that drifted down on the other side of his window pane. It seemed to mock him for his inability to leave.

"Guess it's a snow day for you, eh?"

Damion jolted at the sudden voice which seemed to fill his head and permeate his senses. He quickly turned his back to the window in order to face his living room, expecting to find some sort of home intruder, but all he found was an empty couch. He blew out a breath and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, trying to knock some sanity back into his head. He seriously needed to ask for a vacation when he gets into the office.

"If I even get to the fucking office," he thought bitterly.

Once he started seeing stars, Damion took a look around his empty living room, observing the worn out cushions and blankets that were littered around haphazardly. Everything seemed to be in place. His family photos with mom, dad, brother and little sister were all neatly lined up on the far left wall, warm faces smiling down at him. The black coffee table sat low in front of his ratty, but admittedly very comfortable, blue sofa and the remnants of last night's Indian take-out sat on the coffee table undisturbed, making the entire room smell faintly of tikka misala.

Looking past his living room and into the kitchen beyond, Damion caught site of the only other first floor window he hadn't yet tried to open. Still a bit on edge, he grabbed a metal bat from its place in the downstairs closet and then made his way to the kitchen door. He tentatively looked inside and upon seeing nothing, practically ran to the opposite end of it. He reached out for the glass, his eyes still darting around in search of whatever or whoever it was he heard in the living room. Damion pushed against the window and its refusal to budge even an inch sent a wave of icy hot fear throughout his entire body as he realized this probably wasn't the result of some faulty winter house gear or loose screw. This was purposeful. There was someone here. Heart racing and muscles tensing, Damion glanced up into the window in search of his reflection.

Only to be met with a face not at all his own.

He scrambled away from the window, adrenaline coursing through his body and causing his hands to sweat profusely as they tried to lamely grasp his weapon. An ebony skinned woman, with eyes as black as the space between stars, stared at Damion unabashedly. Her hair fell past her shoulders in wild empowering locks as her lips curled into a serpentine smile. Damion turned his head fervently in every direction as he tried to blink her reflection away. He kept telling himself it wasn't real, that it was just a bad dream and he'd wake up any second now. He took another look at the window, praying he'd be back upstairs in his bedroom, this nightmare a distant memory as it fizzled out of his conscious mind.

The woman remained, staring at him with such an intensity that it felt to Damion as if she could see into the inky black of his very soul. She laughed abruptly, crazed and unforgiving, as if she saw what he was and found joy in the misery she found. It exploded from her mouth in tumultuous agony and felt all encompassing. It seemed to fill every crevice, every nook, every cranny, and more than anything it seemed to scream at him in huge undulating waves. Merciless and cruel, the laughter rose in volume as the lights flickered on and off. A phantom wind ripped Damion's bat from his grip, leaving him defenseless as the chaos surrounded him on all fronts.

Then suddenly it all stopped and Damion found himself staring at the woman in the window pane as she crooked a bony finger at him. Against his will, he walked over to her and fell to his knees. His hands clasped together in prayer like fashion and he bowed his head down so that he wouldn't have to look at her directly as he begged her to let him go. He was so scared, he just wanted to leave already.

"I swear, I'll do whatever you want. Just please let me go. Please. Please. PLEASE!" He sobbed as the words left his mouth, his face pinched in agony as he thought on the fact that this might be his last day on earth. The woman dropped her head from one shoulder to the next as if thinking carefully on his words.

"I would hope so my child. You are after all my first choice for the job."

Her voice was surprisingly gentle, loving even. It was such a sharp contrast to her earlier rambunctiously evil laughter that Damion found himself not fully processing what she said. Instead all he could focus on was the soothing tone of her voice. It felt like fresh honey to his ears and there was a slight Caribbean tilt to it that only added to its appeal. Suddenly, it was if all that fear from before had just vanished. He looked up at her and found comfort in her warm smile.

"Would you mind standing up? Kind of hard to talk to you about my offer with you kneeling like a sinner at church."

Damion dried his tears, relishing the sense of calm he felt. Whether that was her doing or not he didn't much care. He just wanted to address her and get on with his life. He stood from the ground and faced her head on, not shying away from her steely gaze.

"Who are you and what do you want," he asked bluntly.

The woman paused as if thinking on how best to answer. "I'm your salvation, Damion. I've been watching you for some months now and I think you'd do well to follow in my footsteps," she replied softly.

"Look, you just scared the shit out of me in my own home. You made me feel like I was going crazy and now you're in my kitchen talking about salvation, but I really don't see how you could benefit me in any way."

"Ah, but don't you want to hear what I have to say? Don't you want to hear about all the places I've travelled to? All the people I've met and all the things I've tried? The different foods, the various cultures, the mind blowing sex? I have the power to give you everything like that and more. You could go anywhere, see anyone, and try whatever it is your selfish little heart desires. I can give you that chance, Damion."

"Yeah, and at what cost," he shot back.

She chuckled lowly, that sweet honey dew voice sounding so throaty and secretive. "You would simply live as I do. You would get my power, my abilities, and you would be free to travel the world, the galaxy even, should you so choose. This would be done through the shadows which will become your domain. But, your existence as you are in this world would be null and void. No one will remember who you were. Not your parents, not your siblings, not even your friends or your boss. You would quite literally turn into a shadow of your former self."

Damion stared at her like she had just lost her head. Why on earth would he want to be forgotten in such a way? Why did she ever think that he would want to be forgotten by those he loved. His boss, sure he didn't care. That guy was a dick. And friends? Ha! That was laughable. But his family? The people he grew up with, the people he fought with, the people he loves, the people....the people who he hasn't seen or heard from in over two years? The people who kicked him out of Sunday family dinner when he finally gained the courage to come out to them? Those people?

Maybe this witch was on to something. Maybe this crazy woman had a point and maybe he should just ask her a few more questions to be safe. Just to satisfy his curiosity, nothing more. He literally just wanted to hear her out. Damion is a businessman after all.

"Is this like, a forever thing," he questioned. "And why would you want to give me the reigns if it's so enjoyable?"

The ebony skinned woman released a heavy sigh, her narrow shoulders sagging as if a millenia of hardship weighed down on them. Maybe they did, she was obviously of some supernatural breed.

"My time as The Shadow is coming to an end," she started. "I've done all that I can think of and more. I've travelled all over the world and experienced all that I can. I'm ready to pass on. To return to being human so that I may die. But there must always be a replacement for The Shadow and I'm hoping that replacement will be you because I know you want it. I see it in your eyes when you stare listlessly at your co-workers talking about their children's soccer games. I see it in your dreams when you fantasize about running away to Europe or Russia, maybe even Africa! And I especially see it when you try to placate your wanderlust with expensive alcohol and cheap men and women. So to answer your question, no. This is not a 'forever thing', but you will be trapped in the domain of the shadows until all of your lust for the world is satiated. However long that takes is up to you."

She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for Damion to make the next move. He simply stood there, observing her and taking what she said into consideration. One last question came up in his mind on repeat and he knew he wouldn't be able to make a decision without knowing the answer.

So he asked her. "Why did you scare me earlier? Why do all of that to me if you were trying to convince me to replace you? Why would I want to become like you just to find joy in the misery of others?"

The woman threw her head back and cackled like she had earlier. The noise irritated Damion's head as he waited for her to slowly calm down and look at him again. Her eyes were bright and her smile wide.

"Silly boy," she cooed. "I had to show you at least a fraction of my power to let you know this is the real deal, eh? And as for locking you in, I had to do that to ensure you wouldn't run away. As any sane person would when faced with such abilities. Just like you tried to do when I appeared in your window."

"Fair point," he replied back.

He released a drawn out breath while running his hand through his jet black hair. He looked away from the woman and turned to face his wall of family photos. There was his little sister Joanne, his brother Mikey, his dad Paul, and his mom Ginny. All standing in front of the ring toss game at the 2003 state fair. None of them he had seen since their falling out two years ago when he came out to his parents and they promptly kicked him out of their house, never to be invited over for Sunday dinner again. Perhaps they'd be better off without him. Besides, it's not like they're gonna think he's dead. He'd just be....gone. Out of their minds forever. Honestly, it sounded like a dream.

He swiveled back to the woman in the window and slowly crossed the kitchen, his shoes echoing off the hardwood floors. Damion looked into the inky depths of the witch's eyes and after another minute of final contemplation he asked her, "What do I have to do?"

Almost immediately she slammed a little black notebook onto her side of the window pane, causing the whole thing to rattle aggressively. The book looked to be made of soft black leather and had a pen attached to its spine. It read "The Book of Shadows" on its front in big bold white lettering and there seemed to be a space on its lower bottom section for someone to sign. Him, he assumed.

"All you have to do is sign the front and write down everything you do once we trade places. Once the book is filled you are allowed to find a replacement." She whispered this reverently as if it were a secret just the two of them would share. In a way it kind of was. Then she pushed the book through the glass, turning it from a simple reflection into a permanent reality and Damion caught it right before it hit the floor. He gazed at the book in amazement, a soft energy pulsating out of it in waves. He glanced back up at the woman who smiled encouragingly at him and then took one last look at his home and the smiling images of his family. He would miss them, he knew he would, but he was tired. So tired of living everyday the same and he just wanted to live, actually live, for once in his safe and guarded life. He'd see them again, he just knew it, but until such a time he was going to have all the fun he could.

Not trying to second guess himself, he grabbed the pen and quickly signed his name. He expected a surge of energy to enter his body or maybe even a mild headache as his body tried to readjust to the newfound power, but instead he felt nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. He looked at the woman who was still in the pane. She reached out her palm and said, "Take my hand and the trade will be complete." He grasped her hand in his and a cacophony of noise immediately entered his brain. It was like the shrieking of a thousand crows and Damion dropped to his knees once again as the transition took hold of him and made him want to rip his own ears off. Darkness seemed to swirl all around him and his veins started to engorge and fill themselves with black ink. His eyes, oh god his eyes, they burned as though someone had poured gasoline in them and then set them on fire. He forced himself to look into his reflection and he watched as his cobalt eyes were inked over by an endless black coloring, all light being absorbed into them. His very flesh felt as though it were ripping itself open and stuffing his insides with a more formidable substance, replacing his bones with metal and his innards with stone. He couldn't help it, he screamed and he kept screaming as the seemingly never ending pain descended upon his body like a hammer on a nail. It was too much. He was gonna pass out. He was gonna faint. He was gonna....he's....

Damion saw his body hit the floor, his new vantage point within the reflection of the window allowing him to see the exact moment in which all life left his eyes. He couldn't believe it. It actually worked. He looked for the witch around him. He was surrounded by shadow, but nothing else. He supposed she got what she wanted and had simply faded away. He hoped she found peace. Damion glanced back through the glass and watched his corpse as it laid there, useless and alone. He felt suspended in air, as if this were all a dream and he might wake up any second now. He pinched himself to make sure it was real.

"Well, where to first?" His voice seemed to echo in whatever pocket dimension he found himself in and he scooped up the notebook by his feet. Without looking back, Damion walked right into the depths of this new world, eager to explore the limitless expanse of it and as he strutted down the void he couldn't help but think about how much time it would take to do all that he wants to. Good thing he's got all the time in the world, he supposed.