01: Shadow Man

Ten years ago, in a small, obscure town in Norwich, England

He was a behemoth, his huge size occupying almost her whole bedroom. And because he was made of darkness, his presence threw a black cloak over everything, even though Angie always kept the nightlight on.

Angie lay cold and transfixed in her bed.

"Ariya," the Shadow Man rasped. He had burning coalstones for eyes that lent no light nor warmth. His voice was sandpaper, scratching into her ears.

"Ariya," he called again.

Angie had screamed when she woke up. As she was running to her guardian's room she could feel a warm wetness in the middle of her pajamas pants. She had wet herself.

Angie banged her small fists desperately on the thick wooden door.

"Clive!" she screamed. "Help me, please! There's a monster in my room!"

The door opened quickly. A look of shock crossed over her guardian's face when he saw the eight-year-old girl, her face tear-stricken and red. He strode over to her bedroom while she waited outside, her knees quivering.

When Clive appeared from her room a while later, he held a pinched expression.

"There is nothing there, Angie," he said quietly.

"But I saw him! He was real! It wasn't a nightmare!"

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Clive bent down and grasped her arms. "I went into your room. There's no monster that you speak of." His nose flared as his eyes flicked down. "And you wet yourself."

He sounded more concerned of her soiled pants than the fact that the Shadow Man had appeared. No, not concerned. Angry.

"I'm sorry," Angie whispered, looking down in shame.

His steely gaze on her remained. Angie cowered. The last thing she wanted was to make him mad. Clive was scary when he was mad.

Even scarier than the Shadow Man.

"Go and wash yourself," he ordered.

When Angie was done, she returned reluctantly to her room. Clive had chosen for her a new pair of pajamas, laid neatly on the bed.

I should not be scared of Clive, her little voice said as she wore her clean clothes. After all Clive was her god-sent angel like the one Sister Beatrice used to sing songs about, with his beautiful blue eyes and kind voice. The one who rescued her from that terrible orphanage. She could eat as many puddings she wanted now thanks to him.

But the Shadow Man... The Shadow Man and his suffocating darkness was evil.

"He spoke to me just now," Angie whispered, as if imparting a secret.

Clive looked sharply at her. "Who?"

"The Shadow Man."

His eyebrows gave a subtle twitch. "What did he tell you?"

"He..." Angie started, but for some reason she could not remember. She could not even invoke the ghastly image of the creature as much as she tried. There was only a thick fog inside her mind.

His eyes narrowed. Clive was gazing hard at her, but it felt like his eyes were penetrating through her instead. A strange look wore on his face.

"Angie," he said very firmly, gripping her arms tightly again. This time her body shook with his force. He was hurting her. But Angie couldn't say anything. Her heart skipped hard and fast in her chest and her voice was stuck.

"Angie, the Shadow Man doesn't exist."

And that was how she ended up in the basement. Clive had locked the door from outside and took away the key, and he trapped her in there all alone until morning, in the dank, yellow-lit basement where it smelled of mold and mothballs, even though she had cried and screamed, even though she had apologized a thousand times.

After that night Angie never mentioned about the Shadow Man again.

To be continued...