The game started like most childhood games do—with a dare.
It was a late summer evening, the kind when the setting sun turned the sky into a canvas of fiery colors, and the humid air buzzed with the sound of crickets. The kids of Oakridge Lane had gathered at the empty lot at the end of the street. The lot was overgrown with weeds and bordered by a crumbling chain-link fence. It was their unofficial clubhouse, a place where the parents rarely ventured and where imaginations ran wild.
“What’s the game this time?” asked Milo, a lanky boy with freckles who always wore a baseball cap, even when it didn’t fit the weather.
“The Shadows,” said Julie, the self-appointed ringleader. She was two years older than most of the group and had an air of confidence that made everyone else listen.
The kids exchanged uneasy glances. The Shadows wasn’t just a game. It was the game—something that had been passed down from the older kids who had moved away or grown up. It was part hide-and-seek, part tag, but with rules that no one really explained, only obeyed.
“We don’t play The Shadows,” muttered Ben, the youngest of the group.
Julie smirked. “Scared, Ben?”
Ben flushed, his small fists clenching. “No. But my brother says—”
“Your brother’s not here,” Julie interrupted. “The Shadows is the best game there is. It’s just for fun.”
The group hesitated, but Julie’s confidence was contagious. Soon enough, they all agreed to play.
----------------------------------------
The rules were simple—or so Julie claimed.
1. The lot was the boundary. If you crossed the fence, you lost.
2. Once the game started, you had to stay quiet.
3. The Shadows weren’t like regular players. They could only move when no one was looking.
“Who are The Shadows?” asked Nora, a quiet girl with glasses.
Julie’s grin widened. “They’re... something else. You’ll see.”
Julie handed out flashlights to each player, a curious addition to a game being played in the fading light. The sun dipped below the horizon, and the lot was bathed in twilight. Julie clicked her flashlight on and off, signaling the start.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Find a place to hide,” she said. “And remember—don’t look back.”
----------------------------------------
Milo ducked behind a cluster of tall weeds, his heart pounding in his chest. The game had an eerie stillness to it, as if the world outside the lot had vanished. The laughter and chatter that usually accompanied their adventures were absent, replaced by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant bark of a dog.
He shone his flashlight in front of him, the beam cutting through the darkness. A shadow flickered at the edge of his vision, and he whipped around, his pulse quickening. Nothing was there.
“Just a game,” he muttered to himself.
But the lot didn’t feel like it usually did. The air was heavy, the kind of weight that made it hard to breathe. The shadows seemed thicker, darker, as if they had substance.
----------------------------------------
Nora crouched near the rusted fence, her flashlight held tightly in her hands. She felt exposed, the dim light of the flashlight barely enough to push back the encroaching darkness.
A movement caught her eye. It wasn’t one of the other kids—she was sure of it. The figure was tall and indistinct, its outline flickering like a flame.
Her breath caught. “Julie?” she whispered, but there was no response.
The figure didn’t move toward her; it simply stood, watching.
----------------------------------------
Julie, meanwhile, prowled the lot like a hunter, her flashlight cutting arcs through the night. She was enjoying herself immensely, her bravado intact.
But then she heard it—a whisper. Low, guttural, and close.
She spun around, her flashlight trembling. The beam landed on a shadow that didn’t belong to anything she could see. It stretched across the ground, long and twisted, its edges writhing like snakes.
Julie laughed nervously. “Alright, who’s trying to scare me? Milo? Ben?”
The shadow moved, slithering across the dirt. Julie’s laughter died.
----------------------------------------
One by one, the kids realized that something was wrong. The Shadows weren’t other players pretending to be scary. They weren’t part of the game.
Ben tried to make it to the fence, but every time he moved, a shadow blocked his path. He waved his flashlight frantically, but the beam only seemed to make the shadows grow darker.
“They’re not real,” he told himself, his voice shaking.
But when he turned to run, he felt cold fingers brush against his arm.
----------------------------------------
Nora and Milo found each other near the center of the lot. They clung to each other, their flashlights creating a faint circle of safety.
“Where’s Julie?” Milo asked.
“I don’t know,” Nora said, her voice trembling. “We need to leave.”
The two made a break for the fence, their flashlights darting wildly. Shadows closed in around them, whispering words they couldn’t understand.
When they reached the fence, they found Julie standing there, staring at the ground.
“Julie!” Milo shouted.
She turned slowly, her face pale. “It’s not a game anymore,” she said.
The three scrambled over the fence and ran down the street, their flashlights swinging wildly. They didn’t stop until they reached Milo’s house, where they locked the doors and sat in silence.
----------------------------------------
The next morning, the kids returned to the lot. It was empty, just as they’d left it, but the air still felt heavy.
Julie knelt and picked up something from the ground—a small, carved figurine of a twisted shadow. She stared at it for a long moment before shoving it into her pocket.
“Let’s not talk about this,” she said.
The others nodded in agreement.
None of them ever played The Shadows again.