The Shadow

While squinting in to a twilight sun, I kiss the barrel of a loaded gun. I let him count till he reaches one, then fire lasers. Set to stun. A once free man now full of scorn. A once great land now torched and torn. Governments built on drugs and porn. From the ashes of heroes, I was born. An outlaw with a taste for blood and an aptitude for tasting it, a protector of those living life and a terminator of those wasting it.

Children watch on with old men’s eyes as I drag him to shelter before he dies. The sun goes down as a child cries. I give my sympathy, but feed no lies. “I’m sorry,” I said to the young girl’s face, “your father was part of the poisoned race.” 

“Run,” he threatens with ominous grace, so I tip my hat and flee from that place. A place once full of hope but now smeared with shit, a young boy now bent on vengeance with a whole life to take it.

To an old friend I must return, an wizened wisp of a man both shrewd and stern, a man I went to as a babe to learn the ways of the Shadows and eventually earn my seat at the table of High Protectors: an elite league of bandits who shield us from inflated taxes and governments census by taking out those who would seek to destroy us. The Shadows are a calling most cannot possibly wish to heed; it takes a lunatic of a man, a man of a certain breed.

The world is a blank canvas after the war. A decade ago I was shocked as I saw the number of buildings and bodies charred on the floor. I left the shelter, and bolted the door. A world in turmoil governed by fools, those who aren’t corrupt just don’t know the rules or, just like the others, they’d be baying like mules to get their hands on what should pay for schools. So we steal from these men of fraudulence, greed and sin and we give to those in need, so their lives can begin.

“You failed me,” in a blunt voice, he says, with a rough, gravelled tone that suits his face. “We told you to go in and teach them the ways, not slaughter them all and leave in disgrace.” 

Startled by injustice I call, “It wasn’t slaughter; I stunned them, that’s all!” I cushioned the ground before they could fall, but even in shelter, cold consumes all. “The Shadows are sworn to steal from powers, but never to kill.” I should have moved them in from the cold, against their will.

So now my shadow must wander alone and I choose for myself who deserves to own the riches I see. With a face of stone, I cast my eye on the world and am shocked to the bone. The atmosphere is broken and dour, the weather changes by the hour. At night the cold rain comes down sour after a full day of the sun in all its power. For the rich, there are beaches and pools by which to lie. For the poor, each waking moment is a fresh chance to die.

A shadow cannot exist alone without light; a warrior is nothing without a reason to fight. I will scour this land for an innocent sight, one that can tear the cold out of my night. Devoid of purpose or reason to try, I will go and do and see as I like, I’ve never been one to back off or be shy in the face of a moment that could shape my life. What will it be? A person? A cause? Would I dare? Will it be easy? Will it be within the law? Will I care?

I return home to a town with no name, I haven’t been here since I joined the game of outlawed souls and gained my fame. Her eyes look exactly the same as the last time I saw the girl I hurt. Her hands and knees were covered in dirt but her body curved beautifully under her shirt. Her eyes drink me in and seemed to flirt. Or is that my memory of her, her full lips pressed against mine with my hands on her hips. Her hair so smooth on my fingertips, the way her cheeks held small dips. A shadow could have a name, and possibly even a purpose again.

“You,” she whispers, so simple, so sweet. I can’t hold her gaze so I look at my feet. “I dreamed of the day we would once again meet,” I mumble timidly in an attempt to greet the love of my life who I once let go. She had asked me to stay, I had said no. “I hate you for this, I want you to know,” She told me straight, but as I turned to go she grabbed my arm and whispered so quiet, “I have craved for the day when you would warm up my night.”

- THE END -