text: They were scared of their own shadow. A line you’ve heard often when referring to someone scared of many things. But little do you know that phrase has truth in it. Shadows are dark, empty, and unknown. People fear the unknown. I grew up being able to see the shadows as they truly were. The dark twisted versions of ourselves. Our desires, our fears, our hatred. Despite what you may think, they do serve a purpose. The reason they exist is to hold those dark attributes so that that darkness doesn’t reside fully in us. But they’re always trying to escape the bodies they’re bound to. That’s where trouble occurs. It was a chilly October day when I learned what was happening; Mason Armon’s little sister had gone missing, and Mason hadn’t shown up to school. Quite rightfully, but the problem was that no one had seen him for over a day. “It’s just awful what happened.” “I hope they find her soon.” “That poor little girl.” So many whispers among people that morning and afternoon at school. No one was focused on lessons and homework, that was for sure. In a smaller town like Endwood, word travels fast among the locals, and there had been a new word that someone supposedly spotted Mason wandering the outskirts of town, but they couldn’t find him since. No one knew what had happened to him or how Emi had gone missing. But I knew what had happened. His shadow had escaped. Shades, what we Hunters call them, weren’t immediately dangerous. They begin by causing simple mischief, but slowly they evolve into more harmful acts and if not caught, will eventually destroy the life of the person they were bound to. Which meant I had to act fast. Seeing as Emi was taken somehow, I’d guessed that the Shade has been loose for about a couple of weeks, so I was running out of time. I had to go out tonight. I couldn’t let this last any longer, or else something worse could happen. I looked up at the sign above the dark red awning before me. END-RADIO stood in dark bold lettering. The radio was owned and run by Mason’s father, and Mason often came here after school to help him run things. I’d heard him managing the stream a few times on the radio when stores would play it over their speakers. Mason’s father had to have some information that could be useful in my understanding of what had happened before this and where I might be able to find him now. I’d babysat Emi lots of times the past year when Mr. and Mrs. Armon had to work and Mason had sports tournaments he had to attend, so it would luckily not be too odd for me to be asking him questions. I pulled open the door and climbed the narrow stairway up to the top floor of the building where the studio resided. The walls were the same dark red color as the awning outside and lined the walls to the END-RADIO studio door which was black stained glass with simple framing and an average metal handle. There was a faint reverberation of a drum beat from inside. I turned the handle and pushed open the door which stuck a couple of times on the carpet that was placed right inside the doorway. I could hear the muffled noise of music coming from the back left corner where the radio room stood. The rest of the main room was an open space with a few colorful couches, a coffee table set in the middle of them, a table against the back wall with coffee machines and kettles, and a long soundboard against the left wall below the window that looked into the radio room. “Mr. Armon?” I spoke out, my voice filling the small space easily. I heard a shuffling sound and then Mr. Armon appeared at the open radio room door. “Hey, Cassie,” he said, stepping out into the main room and walking towards me. I could hear the exhaustion in his hoarse voice, and his eyes had deep circles beneath them. “How’s it going, kid?” “It’s fine,” I smiled, linking my hands together. “I heard what happened though, I’m so sorry.” He glanced toward the floor and nodded slightly. “Who hasn’t heard,” he chuckled under his breath. “Nice and hard thing about living in a small town like us, everyone comes together to help you, but there’s not much privacy either.” I nodded softly. “I’m positive they’ll find her. Emi’s so smart, I know she’s fine.” Mr. Armon nodded again and gave a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah. All we can hope for.” I shifted on my feet, judging the best approach to this conversation. “I heard that no one’s been able to find Mason, is that true?” “Yeah, we have no idea where he is either,” Mr. Armon ran a hand through his hair, “last time Leah and I saw him was two days before Emi...” he paused, then continued, “he was with his friends and was going to spend the night at one of their houses after the football game. And he hasn’t shown back up at home, or texted, or called us, just nothing.” Mr. Armon’s voice was low and hoarse like he was trying not to get too emotional. “Did he spend the night with his friends?” “At least for a time, his friends said when they woke up, he was already gone, his bags and all. They can’t reach him and haven’t received any signs either.” He let out a shaky breath. “And then the next day Emi was gone too.” He turned around and I saw his arm raise to his face. I was silent for a few moments, noting all the information in my head. “Do you know any place he might’ve gone to?” “No clue, I only ever knew him to go to one of his friends when he was upset, or something wasn’t going right. I can’t think of anywhere else he might run to.” “Had he been acting weirdly at all before he was gone?” I asked, cautiously. Mr. Armon gave a small nod, still facing away from me. “He was much more irritable than he usually was, snapped at us a lot. He started to ignore us for the most part, including Emi, which was the strangest thing. You know how close those two are.” I nodded. Even being eight years apart in age, those two were as close as if they were the same age. “Emi was concerned about him, tried to make him feel better from whatever seemed to be going on, but he only blew her off every time.” There it was. The most out-of-character thing someone could do was oftentimes a sure sign of trouble when their shadow was loose. It didn’t automatically mean a Shade had escaped, but if a Hunter knew of a Shade’s disappearance and then it occurred, then it was improbable of being anything else. “I’m sorry, Mr. Armon. I’m sure they’ll both be back in no time, they’re both smart kids.” Mr. Armon nodded again, and turned back to me, his eyes beginning to redden. “I had heard a rumor that someone had spotted him by the train tracks outside town, but no one’s been able to find either of them out there.” The train tracks . Of course. Why hadn’t I thought of it first? I thanked Mr. Armon for talking with me and gave one more condolence before exiting the studio and jogging down the stairs, racing to get back home. I knew what to do now. When night fell, I stood over my desk, gathering my things. I glanced out the window at the full moon, it would make searching a lot easier. I stared down at the small dark dagger laying before me. It was time. If I didn’t finish this tonight, then it could very well be too late. Who knows what might happen. I took in a sharp breath and stuffed the dagger into the side of my boot. I turned off the lights in my room and slid through my window, closing it softly behind me. I left a note for my parents in case they came looking for me, but I didn’t want them to worry about me handling this Shade. The bright moon lit my surroundings enough for me to navigate through them. I was heading to one spot. The train tracks. Since someone had claimed to have seen him there, that was likely the last place anyone else had seen him, and I knew from sharing an art class with him that his favorite place to sketch was the tracks. Even if he was taken over by the Shade its actions would still be influenced by Mason’s memories and emotions. I trekked over the crunch of leaves as I finally reached the tracks. I quietly followed them, listening and watching for any noise or sign of movement. It was eerily silent. No crickets, birds, or animals. Even the wind was completely still. Which made my presence there that much more noticeable. I waited for what felt like forever, just listening, and watching the open land before me, the moon to my back. My shadow was cast long against the old, splintered wood of the train tracks, following any minute movement I made. I scanned the darkness of the woods to the left and right where anything could be easily hiding, the moon made the glow of the area easier to see, but it was still night, nonetheless. I glanced down at the tracks again and I froze. I could see my shadow straight ahead of me, but next to it was an inky darkness, resembling a shadow, that spread out just behind mine. And then I heard the sound of a foot on old wood. I whipped around, grabbing my dagger and holding it out at Mason’s tall figure. Despite the brightness of the moon, he was shadowed and dull compared to the rest of the area. “Hunter,” the Shade hissed in a low, static-like version of Mason’s. “I’m going to make this quick,” I muttered and lunged. The dagger sliced Mason’s upper arm, but instead of blood, inky shadows leaked through the cut. The Shade hissed and raised a clawed hand. It struck down but I jumped back before it raked my face. I swung again and cut the edge of his face. “Leave him or I will tear you apart,” my low voice rang out loud in the silence. The Shade snarled and the inky darkness of Mason’s body sank into the earth. Mason’s body dropped and I caught him, dragging him to the side and laying him down against a tree. I moved away from him and searched for the Shade. The wind had now started and blew hard and cold through the trees. I finally heard a crunch behind me, and I turned and threw my dagger. It struck the tree behind and lodged into the bark. My breath caught and then I was thrown to the ground. I gasped for air and turned my head up to the Shade looming above me, his head cocked. It lunged at me, and I rolled but felt it catch my arm and I yelled in pain. I backed up against the tree and stood, dislodging my dagger and gripping it in my now-injured arm. My arm shook and I scanned the trees hastily. A hissing laughter rang out in echoes and my heavy breathing matched. It was toying with me. I realized instantly what I would have to do. I sucked in a breath. It was risky. I stepped out into the open, the moon shining down brightly, casting a shadow of myself and the trees surrounding. I listened. And I waited. The wind picked up in an instant and the Shade appeared from the shadows and threw me to the ground. My back slammed against the hard tracks and ground, and I gasped for air. I tried to find my dagger somewhere next to me. The Shade raised an arm and swung at my head, but it missed. Until I realized what it was aiming for. My throat seized up and I let out a cry of pain as the Shade began pulling at my shadow cast by the moon. I thrashed, trying to roll away, get out of its grip, anything. I cried out as it ripped harder. My vision was blurring, and my breaths were sharp and ragged. I had to finish this now . With a shaky hand, I tapped around the cold ground, and finally, my fingers felt the hard handle of my dagger and I gripped it as tight as I could in my fist. I let out a yell and swung the dagger at the Shade’s face. Everything was still for a moment. Then it fell beside me with a thud. I gasped and sat up, painting. I watched the Shade as it melted into the earth, leaving no trace of it behind. Signing in relief I stood shakily to my feet and walked over to Mason, who groaned and regained consciousness. He was confused and dazed, but he was alright. I helped him and we retraced the Shade’s steps to where he had hidden Emi. Once they were both safe, I returned home and collapsed into bed. In a few days Mason’s shadow would return, he would only really remember everything as a dream, and everything would go back to normal. The next day I stood outside the radio station. People walked past; their shadows as clear as crystal. Everything was normal again. It was a regular sunny October day. Or it would have been. If I hadn’t noticed it. A bright sunny spot where my shadow should have been.