Young Writers Society

Blake awoke with a start, breathing in sharply while his head flew up. He still sat on the floor next to his bed in the darkened room, and in only a few seconds his eyes adjusted. With a twist of his head Blake examined the analog clock atop the nearby nightstand. 1:43. After a quick groan he rubbed the corner of his eyes and threw his head onto the bed. He didn't even have dinner yesterday.

But something didn't feel quite right. Unease drifted up through his spine and enveloped his neck, and he allowed a gentle breath inside to calm his nerves. If there was something going on, he'd figure it out. His gaze swept across the room in a slow and simple motion. But he saw nothing in here.

A burning sensation tingled within his spine and Blake straightened up. The burn was soon accompanied by a very faint stinging that tried pressing right into his back, as if attempting to weight him down. Even his chest had tightened a little. More than anything, the combination of these uncomfortable twinges rather annoyed him.

This is insane, he thought. Blake looked behind him; the scythe still lay on his bed. With a sharp inhale Blake reached forward and lifted it. He did not necessarily want it, but right now he was almost sure he might need it. With only the slightest reluctance, he began tiptoeing out of his room.

The narrow hallway was such a dim one this time of night, and Blake's sight was aided only by the faint glow of some street lights near the front of the house. But he headed for the rear instead, his pace slow and wary. He clutched the weapon with both hands now, looking left and right.

Once he reached the door to his mother's room, he stopped. Only a large crack prevented him from looking inside very much, just as he'd left it, but he peeked anyway. He barely picked up on the sound of very gentle and leisurely snores, leaving him confident enough to simply tiptoe past her room.

As he entered the office he froze and scanned. Nothing here either. Blake made his way to the back door, which creaked ever so slightly as he pulled it open, the tension growing in his body with every passing second. When the opening was wide enough, Blake leaned his head forward.

Without any lights shining on the backyard, nobody could see a thing out here. The glow of the waning crescent, a sliver at best, also provided no aid for sight. He could not even discern the backyard from the fence, as everything beyond a few feet in front of him appeared as a neverending blackness.

The burn coursed throughout his body and enflamed his back and shoulders in particular, yet it was no stronger here than what it was earlier. Still, his senses told him to come this way for a reason, and like it or not he trusted his instincts. Blake stepped out into the night and let the door slowly creak behind him. In a manner of seconds it shut with a very soft click.

A terrible and searing burn radiated throughout his entire body. Instinctively, he backed up while holding the scythe in a defensive position. But in the same moment a forceful weight crashed into the staff and pushed him back with a startling thud.

Blake clutched the scythe with both hands. He couldn't see it clearly enough, but a shadowy figure grabbed the weapon with its jaws, snarling and growling like some rabid dog. His heartbeat quickened and pounded in his ears, and every muscle in his body had become tense. With a hefty grunt Blake braced his legs, took in a sharp breath of air, and pushed his arms forward as hard as he could muster.

The movement flung the shadow off of him in a mere second, but in the darkness he could not tell how far that was. Blake widened his stance and frantically scanned his surroundings despite knowing the uselessness of it. There! He saw it. The outline of the shadow was clearer to him now, and stood near the base of the fence's corner.

The fence? Blake realized it almost immediately....he didn't think he'd ever seen this well in near or total darkness before.

Something hissed, but not the shadow he'd just pushed away. It came from a different direction. Then something else growled, again from elsewhere. And the panic had yet to overtake him. The shadows were easy to distinguish in that moment, and because of that he almost felt calmer despite the ever present tension in his hands. He saw one, no, two? Another assessment of the backyard revealed at least five more. Each was small, none larger than a coyote, but every one took a very different shape. With lanky legs, long tails, and short snouts, they all looked like strange animalistic creatures, with silvery eyes and puffs of smoke radiating from their forms. And every single one had their malice directed right at him.

Only a small degree of fear plagued his mind, and a strange bout of determination filled within him. Like it or not, it was a fight. The strange creature yesterday had startled him, but this time he felt prepared, more or less. Blake released the tension in his legs, and pulled the scythe back in preparation for an attack.

He did not wait long. A cat-like shadow near him lunged with a screech, its clawed appendages extended. Without the slightest hesitation, Blake ran forward with all the swiftness he could muster and swung the weapon forward. But the blade almost pulled him towards the side, missing the creature entirely and nearly thwarting his balance. Blake caught himself and regripped the weapon, dumbfounded by what just happened. 

What am I doing, I have no idea how to use this!

He could not get another thought in as two more creatures leapt at him from different directions. In a split second, Blake jumped and leaned forward into a somersault, avoiding the attack of both assailants. As he leapt back to his feet he breathed in and out in a rapid back-and-forth manner.

How am I possibly supposed to fight these things if I don't-?

Once again his thoughts were interrupted as a few other shadowed entities moved toward him. In an instant Blake stepped sideways, albeit in a clumsy manner, dodging the attack of the cat-like shadow from before. And in a mere instant it clicked, and Blake suddenly had an idea. Two more creatures raced right for him. Blake stepped backwards only a slight bit, then jumped forward the instant they leaped. Their smoky forms collided with one another before landing in heaped dazes, and surprising Blake by the lack of sound either action created.

But at least that only left three for the time being. A creature hissed from behind, and Blake barely sidestepped out of the way.....and straight into the path of an oncoming attacker. In a moment of random remembrance, Blake grasped the end of the staff with both hands, and without hesitation swung it like a baseball bat. The creature screeched as the curved blade severed two of its limbs, and it crashed onto the grass with a sharp and grating cry so uncomfortable that Blake winced from the very sound of it. Unfortunately the large and heavy blade had enough momentum to pull its wielder to his knees. Blake grunted as soon as his body hit the ground, but he sat up as quick as he could.

He then looked back towards the shadowy creature. The scythe had not severed much from the creature's limbs. But unbelievably, it was enough that the creature slowly disintegrated away. 

The other four seemed to want to keep their distance from him at the moment, which gave Blake the time to stand and look over the scythe again. Okay, that worked.....but that's not how to use a tool like this. Right?

He knew better than to try and strategize right now, especially with four dark and dangerous creatures still emanating a malevolence seemingly targeted at him. At least now they were cautious. And they all began circling him around him, as though waiting. Blake looked back and forth between them, anxious about who would make the next move.

In the periphery of his vision he caught movement behind him, a lanky dog-like shadow that crept forward, then charged without warning. It was so fast; Blake could only hold up the staff portion of the weapon in defense. But he was not prepared for the strength of its attack, and before he knew it Blake was forced to the ground, trapped. On his back he groaned and sputtered, and pushed as hard as he could to keep the shadow away from clawing up his face. He suddenly realized from his rapidfire heartbeat and shaky arms that panic was beginning to set in.

In the corner of his eye, he saw a larger shadow bolt at him from the side, and for a single moment he froze.

Without thinking, Blake used all his might and kicked the shadow off of him, and sent it flying forward. Not even a second later, he thrust his legs up and back, using his hands and the weight of his scythe to push him up into a simple backflip. In seconds he landed balanced on his feet as the large creature whisked by him, its attack barely missing him by an inch.

His instincts kicked in, screaming at him to go on the offensive, and so he ran right for the one he'd kicked away. The entity screeched at him during his advance but Blake ignored this and, with the left hand near the bottom of the staff and the other near the top, pushed the right hand with all his might.

The dark form jumped up just as the blade sliced where it had stood, and it fell towards Blake with long and sharp claws outstretched.

A searing pain reverberated throughout his body, with most of it concentrated on his right shoulder. He wanted to look at it, but a smaller shadow lunged for him. Blake grunted as he somersaulted forward. His shoulder felt the impact of the movement and he winced, though his injured arm gripped the scythe even tighter. He spun around as one of the shadows attacked, and could only block with the staff. Another shadow leapt, and then a third lunged from below. The back-and-forth onslaught happened so fast, and he just blocked and blocked. They came so quick he had no moment to counter.

Some dirt gave way beneath him, and he fell backwards once again. Now more exposed than before, the largest shadowy creature lunged right for him with outstretched claws and silver eyes glistening with ferocity. Blake grabbed the middle of the staff with but one hand, and reacted.

He didn't even realize what happened until his eyes focused again. But the shadow could not come close to touching him, as its head was severed from its body. Every bit of it disintegrated into the air before any dark particles came close to touching him.

The air of tension was not as strong as it was before. Blake sensed this and struggled to stand, and when he did he spread out his legs and clutched the scythe tighter than ever before. But there was no need to. Because when he'd looked up and all around the backyard, the rest of the shadow creatures had gone. Everything had fallen silent, except for the occasional twitch of grass blades giving way to the breeze. Even the burning sensation had begun to ebb.

Blake closed his eyes, a little unbalanced all of a sudden. But now he could breath a little easier. A slight sting enveloped his shoulder but it was bearable for now. When he opened his eyes, Blake was nearly startled by the strange change in his vision. The crescent moon hardly lit up the backyard, and the fence was nothing more than a still shadow that he could barely make out. He could, however, catch a glimpse of the outline of the scythe. He stared down at his hands, disbelieved as he took a step back. It was just like before; he knew exactly what had happened, what he'd done in the moment, but it had all felt like a trance that he just snapped into.

And he didn't know why.

A ringing sound swept through his ears with no warning, making Blake feel even more dizzy than before. He could barely keep himself standing, and eventually he gave in to the uncomfortable sensation as his knees buckled. The dizziness did not go away, but at least sitting down it was not as unbearable. One hand clutched his forehead, while the other held on to the scythe. Blake closed his eyes, and did everything to clear his head with slow breathing and unfocused thoughts. For a moment he let himself go, let himself simply stare into the void of his own closed eyes.

Come to me.....in the darkness.......

Blake's eyes opened with a jolt. That voice. It was almost clear, and deep like a growl that could vibrate the very earth. He felt like he'd heard it before....but where? First these shadowy things show up everywhere, and now this. What is going on?

He let go of both his head and the scythe, to stare at open palms lit up only by a sliver of moonlight. The night was warm with spring air. But at this moment, he felt nothing but a cold unease. No longer fixated on the pain emanating from his shoulder, Blake's mind wandered with desperate and questioning thoughts.

What in the world is going on? What.....is something happening to me?