Silhouettes bled together as they lined up but she could feel their dark outlines eat her light, and the first lunged. She swung and bone silently snapped. The shade smashed into the shelf, hitting every brace as it fell, the metal rattled from silent collisions.

She stepped back a shade jumped and she slid to the side and smeared the shadow’s head against the wall as it landed. A shade grabbed her arm holding the bat she punched forward and lurched back to remove the offending silhouette. They relented and Summer retreated and lifted her bat for the next shadow.

Her foot slipped, and she glanced down at a fallen shadow’s hand wrapped around her ankle. She looked up into the pressing wall of darkness.

She swung but a jerk on her ankle sent her swing wide and the shade thrust a bright knife at her stomach. She dragged and twisted but the hand holding her halted her retreat and the blade glanced across her side. She flinched yet the pain was less than expected. Clearing her thoughts she focused on the closing shade and its sharp knife.

A can thudded into its knife, unsettling its grip. It was enough, Summer swiped the hampering hand and added a joint. Her adversary renewed its stab and she met it with a swing. The soundless battle rang as metal collided and their hand crumbled. Then swung for the head bat guided by the absence of feeling. She struck true and jumped back.

Hurried breaths channeled her racing heart, Four, she’d fought four and likely killed two, however more to go. Another gap in her light pounced and she struck, injuring them felling as their chest collapsed around her bat.

Why were they trying so hard, she thought in the space between motion. Swept a shade’s legs and swung for its head but ducked and jumped back as a rock sailed over her head. She hissed and looked for anything beyond knives amongst the dark wall. They were smart enough to throw things but chose to fight.

Her next carried more weight and burst into a spay of black blood. She stepped back and around her prepared corner as blood caught her eyes. She couldn’t see! She felt shade round and struck the fuzzy abyss trying to stab her. She pressed and the dull snap of broken bone shuddered up her arm.

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She fell back as the diminished horde surged, and slipped, on what she didn’t know but the ground met her back as she managed to blink her eyes free. A knife dug into her raised arm as she kicked and shoved at the shadows that jumped on her. She pushed the shade of her and pushed away but a hand caught her foot and pulled her back. She did swinging the shadows darted back and pressed in as her arc passed.

Cans rained on the shades, but they dove unperturbed. She caught the knife seeking her heart and pushed it back before another shade added its strength. She released her bat and used both limbs to push against the blade falling to her chest. Her reflection shone on its blade. Her face contorted in effort as her eyes shone with an almost golden light.

The mass of shades threw their weight and strength against her but bit by bit she was winning. Then a sharp point slipped into her stomach. She tensed yet the blade slid deeper, into the muscle. Her focus slipped and in a moment two cold pints found her skin. She gasped and tasted cool darkness on her tongue

The mass above her jolted and she pushed them to the side as she lurched to her feet. She glimpsed the knife in Mensha’s retreating hand before her fist fell on the pile. Skin tore and in seconds her hands were a mask of black. She struck as they rose. She punched them as they fell. She didn’t stop for the swipes that sliced her arms.

She only stopped as she crouched in a pile of shadows and so much darkness clung to her skin that that the room fell dim. Her gaze swept the room. The door was closed, probably by Mensha, and her road of shelves was decorated by the bodies and blood of silhouettes and cans. Her heavy breaths filled the room.

She glanced at Mensha, ever peaceful he surveyed her work with the eye of a passerby as if those dark stains weren’t things close to people but rather curious leaves blowing in the wind. The nausea and slight sway of his form looked closer to general unhealth than any genuine concern. His eyes met hers and drank her in.

A frown touched his features as his gaze swept the lines of red trailing up her arms. His concerned stare pierced her, “It’s fine, just some cuts.” she said, the irony wasn’t lost on her. “We need to deal with the living ones.”

“Kill them?” he said, in his gentle tone, the one he used when he thought she needed consoling. It soothed, though the words frightened.

Her gaze fell to the mess of flesh at her feet, if she could see them if she could smell the blood coating her arms. Hear their screams as she killed them and look into desperate eyes. Could she be so calm, could he she glanced into her deep eyes, she didn’t like the answer she found.

“No,” she said and tried to suppress the disgust rising through her as the cool wet drew her focus. “Push them out the door, then we can go.”

“Okay,” he said as his gaze swept across her victims, “I’ll do it, then we can see to your wounds.”