Chasing Shadows

This has been a difficult time to be away from the blog. Since my last official post, a terrible storm has wrought untold damage on the lives of countless Americans on the Gulf Coast, and an iconic city has been drowned. The misery faced by the innumerable survivors of that tragedy dwarfs by comparison any other natural disaster experienced directly by this country in centuries.

I will continue with my meager narrative shortly, since I also realize how important it is to have pleasant distractions at times like these, but I do want to remark, briefly, on the city of New Orleans and its brave but distraught people.

New Orleans will rise again (although still not likely to be above sea level) as it is one of those kinds of places that no force of man or Nature can ever truly destroy. It is a city so full of life (and (un)dead) that it will not be kept down for long. It may take months to pump the city dry, and still more months to demolish the old, destroyed buildings, but new ones will rise as surely as the vampires arise after sunset.

Even as I write this entry now, I am doing so from deep within the devastation zone on yet another mission for the Bureau, but this story will be told soon enough, first I must conclude the story you have been following.

OK...so now back to our narrative....

I emerged from the cavern beneath the Tree expecting to find Diego and Herlinda waiting for me, only to be greeted by the near silence of leaves swaying in the breeze. No laughter, no crying, no clambering about in the branches to be heard at all.

I stood still for a moment, trying to figure out what was causing me to feel so ill at ease. Suddenly, it felt slightly colder, the sky seemed a little darker than I ever remembered it being here.

Out of the corner of my left eye, I thought I saw something dark and furtive move. I spun around to the left thinking perhaps Diego was playing a game of hide and seek with me, but saw nothing but a large clump of roots where whatever had moved had ducked behind.

I started moving towards where I had seen the movement go to, but something inside told me to approach the large gnarly knob of roots with caution. Almost unconsciously, I flicked my wrist, expecting my baton to fall into place. It was jarring when nothing happened. I felt naked, suddenly defenseless against an unknown danger.

I slowed as I approached my destination, fighting against a growing sense of unease.

I came around the right side of the obstacle barehanded, but ready for a fight, and came face to face with Drake.

Talk about stunned, I backed up a quick step and assumed a fighting stance, half expecting him to leap out and start a brawl. I did manage to stammer out a few words, “D-d-drake, what the Hell? I thought you couldn’t come here!”

The bastard’s face broke out into that damnable grin I had seen so many times before, “And just why would you think that, my boy?” He stood up from behind his hiding spot. He seemed just a bit shorter than I recalled...and something about him just didn’t sit right. It was almost like he wasn’t as...substantial as he should be.

“Well, I was under the impression you didn’t have enough of a damn soul left to actually walk the Spirit World, for one thing.”

He looked almost hurt at those words, but shook it off quickly, “Oh really, so you think so little of me that I would be incapable of following you to your little safe haven, do you? I am disappointed in you Rusty.”

Now that the shock had worn off though, I started seeing more and more discrepancies between my recollection of Drake and this...image...of him. I began to grow suspicious of this thing, whatever it was. I was growing convinced it wasn’t actually who it was trying to portray at the moment. “Well, since you are here now, perhaps you can deliver your fourth message to me in person, instead of on that device you left me.”

Now it was the one who was taken aback for the briefest of moments, like it was trying to sift through incomplete memories. “Why yes, I think I can do that for you. What is it you would like to know?”

That did it, I knew this wasn’t Drake, but someone or something trying to impersonate his ass. Let me tell you, one Drake is more than enough. I pretended to be thinking of a question to ask as I shifted my weight forward ever so slightly, then as I was about to speak, I leapt forward with both hands extended, going for the bastards throat.

I landed on him/it in a tangle of grasping hands and half thrown punches. We fell into a heap at the base of the knot of roots. I managed to get my hands around the throat of the creature just as Drake’s face melted away to reveal a slightly feminine version of Grendel’s face, and then about a dozen more images in quick succession.

It fought back against me as well, but its blows seemed almost soft, like it was formed not of skin and bone, but of something far softer and much more malleable. I kept pressing my hands together, tyring to choke the life out of it, but the substance just flowed slowly at first, but then much faster, through my fingers.

Before long my hands met in the middle and the form completely dissolved into a puddle of shadow that formed at my feet. I tried stamping on it as I got up, but to no avail. Wherever I stomped, the dark gooey form just flowed around my foot and slipped away. Soon the puddle slid far enough away from me to actually stand back up, this time in a smaller, less substantial form reminiscent of Grendel before it loped away from the Tree and into the dark woods beyond.

I stood there for a moment trying to collect my thoughts again. So this was my new foe.

“Tree, how can this thing even come here? I didn’t invite it here?”

The swaying leaves formed words again, “You and it are two parts of one whole. Where One can go, Both can go.”

“You mean that thing can come here just as easily as I can?”

“Yes.”