It was hard to say what surprised Dante more: seeing Blaine return unharmed or seeing them come with one more human. He had been actively patrolling the area to make sure there were no shadows left from the attack. The camp was already in bad shape, to have a stray shadow making a midnight ambush would be something no one in the camp had the strength to deal with right now. When Dante saw the one familiar and one unfamiliar faces approaching him, he recognized instantly that one of them needed an immediate trip to Ishmael.

“God, what happened to him?” Dante asked, pulling the man’s arm from Blaine’s shoulder and placing it on his own.

“That group of shadows happened to him. Name’s Peter” Blaine wanted to speed through the introductions given the fact that Peter’s consciousness was slipping.

“What happened to the shadows?” Dante asked hesitantly.

“I happened to them.” Blaine said with a bit of pride, trying to mask their underlying fears and exhaustion. They were relieved that Dante took Peter off their hands, he was becoming increasingly harder to carry. Dante gave an impressed nod, secretly examining Blaine for any signs of injury.

“Let’s get the both of you to Ishmael, hopefully he can help.” Dante led the two tired survivors to the health center and returned to his post just in case.

Much like the first time Blaine had seen Ishmael, he looked with surprise, relief, and disappointment in that order. He quickly waved for Peter to be placed on his empty examination table. After listening to Peter’s chest, taking his temperature, and performing a couple other examinations, he let out an exasperated sigh.

“Yup, he has Shadow Syndrome.” He sat the now unconscious Peter up on the table. “And it’s worse than most of the people here, he must have been attacked a while ago.” Ishmael started moving Peter into the chair that sat next to where Blaine was sitting. He then waved a hand in Blaine’s direction. “Okay, you next.”

“What?” Blaine asked, confused.

“You just took on all of those shadows and on top of it have been travelling with someone infected, you’re getting examined too.” Ishmael commanded; Blaine could see now why he was the village leader.

“I’m fine, I promise.” Blaine tried to argue but Ishmael would not take no for an answer. He began by also listening to Blaine’s chest.

“Okay, heart rate and breathing are normal. You don’t have to undress if you’re not comfortable, but you will need to pull down your mask.” Ishmael instructed and Blaine followed the instructions. “Temperature also normal.” He pulled out a pen light and shined it in front of Blaine’s face. “Follow the light with your eyes only. Good. Now tell me, how was the fight? Did any of them hurt you?” Blaine recounted everything that happened while Ishmael examined their fingernails and hair for any signs of shadowy remains. Ishmael sighed again, this time with relief. “I will admit I was worried about you, but that is extremely impressive. You took on 8 shadows and came out of it unscathed.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.” Blaine smiled, hoping Ishmael could not tell they had lied about killing all of them. “Now, about those supplies.”

“I am a man of my word.” Ishmael had Blaine hand him the map from earlier and circled a cafeteria nearby. “That’s our supply building. Go in and take all you can carry. I’ll let them know to expect you.” Blaine nodded and started towards the door, then looked back at Peter.

“What will happen to him?” They asked with concern in their voice. Ishmael sighed and looked the unconscious man up and down.

“We will do what we can, that’s all we can do.” Ishmael’s tone was somber yet calm, trying to provide Blaine with some level of comfort while also not wanting to downplay the severity of the situation. After reading the room, Blaine realized it was time to leave.

There was an audible crashing sound in the living room. It seemed that the man’s patience had run as empty as his beer. Blaine was exhausted, desperate for sleep. They had to stay awake despite their tired eyes, they knew what might happen if they nodded off before their dad. The sound of the television turning off was Blaine’s cue to step out, it was time to intervene. The drunken man was beginning to stumble towards the hallway Blaine was now standing in.

“Where’s my little handsome man?” His words slurred as droplets of alcohol flew from his mouth.

“He’s asleep. He has school in the morning.” Blaine responded sternly.

“Asleep? He forgot to give daddy a goodnight kiss.” He began to step into the hallway but was quickly blocked by Blaine’s palm.

“You shouldn’t do that. You’re drunk.” Their face was serious in order to hide the fear running down their spine and the vomit rising up their throat.

“I don’t give a damn! I want that boy now!” Despite being tired himself, his anger was quickly rising and filling him with energy. Blaine sighed, knowing that there was only one way out of this.

“I’m ready for bed.” Blaine spoke softly, the words fighting to stay in their mouth.

“Then let’s get your ass in bed!” He excitedly gripped Blaine by the wrist and began dragging them to their room, landing the two of them in Blaine’s bed.

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As the smell of the man’s intoxication filled the air, Blaine closed their eyes and imagined their brother fast asleep. He was safe in bed, safe in his own room, safe from this. As Blaine struggled to breathe through the barrage of sweat and beer-stained clothes, they swore he would never have to feel this. He would never have to feel this pain.

“Blaine…” A muffled cry broke through. Their father was gone, their room was empty.

Did I fall asleep? They wondered in panic as they ran towards their brother’s room. The scene they saw was impossible, that much was true. After all, they had lost track of their father when the shadows came. That did not stop Blaine from believing the fabrication for a second too long. The false image of their father with that same shadow in their brother’s room, each having their way with him, while all Blaine could do was let out a silent scream as their brother’s voice slipped a single word from his lips.

“Why?”

The deathly still air broke as Blaine’s body shot up, making its way in and out of their lungs. Deep yet hushed gasps broke free from their chest as the nightmare slowly faded away, the details still lingering in their mind. The surroundings were starting to familiarize Blaine with reality once again, assuring them that what they saw was not real, no matter how it felt. They couldn’t help but run their fingers up and down their arms, embracing them and feeling all of the bumps and ridges. This feeling filled them with comfort, they knew exactly what to expect with each and every inch moved. They could hear the broken clock down the hall that was still ticking despite being stuck at 1:13, their breaths started to sync with every other tick, then every third, until they seemed to be mostly calmed down.

A familiar black mask sat at their bedside; it lay flat yet crumpled from being thrown down. They picked it up and examined its features. The cloth was once dark but had faded in some spots from constant perspiration and general wear and tear. The once white triangles that were arranged in a circular pattern were stained here and there with brown, green, grey, and a few colors in between. A deep sigh escaped their lips as they pressed a hand up to their forehead. It was still warm; the normal type of warm that let a person know they were alive, but not so warm as to cause concern. Despite this there were still beads of sweat dripping down their neck, mostly cold beads from being forced awake.

Blaine fell backwards onto the pillow in a vain attempt to will themself back to sleep. Every time their eyes filled with darkness, it was quickly filled by the mental images generated by a combination of their own fears, insecurities, and memories they had hoped would not resurface. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, they realized that sleep was no longer an option. They stood up and adorned their mask as they began pacing the floor. Each step seemed to weigh down on their mind, as though the floor was gripping their feet and sinking them further and further into the depths of their thoughts. The room, although the wallpaper was torn and faded from both age as well as fits of anger and desperate attempts to conceal memories, was still recognizable to Blaine. Memories of the times they wished to be as alone in it as they were now. Times when the fear they felt was different, the threats more imminent, yet now so far away. They had to leave. They had to escape these thoughts.

Picture frames that had been shattered still hung on the walls in the hallway. Certain faces had been torn out, leaving only the same two people that were visible in the few that still had faces. They stopped for a moment in the hallway and stared at a door that stood cracked open, a soft electrical hum could be heard coming from it. Their hand pressed up against it to hold it steady as they held their breath and listened. A soft, raspy breathing sound was barely audible under the electrical humming. That was all Blaine needed to hear before they continued walking. The hall was slightly illuminated by the light of the moon and the stars, but this light was enough for Blaine to navigate through. They pressed their back against the wall and stared out the window. The outside world seemed to tempt them, with the fresh air, cool breeze, and the lack of reminders of the past. It also swayed them away with its promises of dangers, both known and unknown. Going out this late seemed like a death sentence, but the 6 shadows’ deaths one at a time in replayed in their mind and filled them with assurance. They grabbed a flashlight and the laser pointer from the table in the living room and officially made up their mind, taking one more look at the place before slipping out the front door.

The air was just as crisp and cool as they had hoped it would be. Their unkempt hair blew around wildly in the breeze and they had to push it out of their eyes every now and again. They mentally reminded themself they would need to cut it soon, hair in the eyes was a distraction they could not afford if their life was at risk. As they wandered through the streets of what was once a nearby town, they wondered if there would still be some non-essential things on the shelves. Staring at their own tattered clothes, they figured they could go for something that was more in one piece.

One of the stores had some mannequins standing in the broken window displays. Ignoring their creepy nature of standing unbroken in the middle of destruction while illuminated by the moonlight, Blaine decided to enter the building. They took care to step over the broken glass without getting any in their worn shoes. Any spare shard would likely go right through the soles and pierce their feet. Some of the hangers were surprisingly not empty, so Blaine began their shopping spree. The color selection was slimmer than Blaine had hoped, as it seemed other people had already cleared the darker clothes. All that remained was bright pinks, yellows, and other colors that would have fit perfectly in a summer day before everything changed.

Although the colors did not match their wants, Blaine picked out a couple shirts and pants that were less ripped and actually fit them properly. They decided that some black spray-paint would help fix the color issue. They went to grab a bag to put their goodies in when a voice made their heart stop.

“Look here, someone is playing a bit of dress-up.” The voice had a slight distortion mixed with hush whispery sounds. Blaine instantly knew before turning what they would see. Four dark figures stood at the store’s entrance, glowing white eyes landing directly on Blaine. The clothes dropped from their hands as they scrambled to grab their flashlight from their pocket. In an instant, one of the shadows was behind them and gave their arm an icy grip.

“Don’t be rude, we just wanted to help you pick out an outfit.” A twisted smile began to spread on its face. With Blaine’s other hand, they quickly grabbed the laser pointer before the shadow could fully restrain them. The light sliced through the dark hand gripping their arm and it disconnected and fell to the floor. The shadow jerked back in pain, then stared up at Blaine with enraged eyes. Blaine puffed up their chest, believing this demonstration would be enough to send the group scrambling. The air slowly released, and their chest shrunk as the shadow reached down and picked up its severed hand. It placed the dripping hand on the remaining stump and Blaine watched in horror as the dark tendrils began to grip it and slowly regenerate, reattaching it completely. Two shadows gripped each of Blaine’s arms and caused the laser pointer to fall to the ground. The now fully healed shadow came closer to Blaine’s face and they could see its smile had curled into a big sneer. “Now you’ve pissed me off.”