The crossroads were quiet under the silver light of the full moon, the kind of quiet that made even the crickets uneasy. The dirt paths stretched into the horizon in four directions, bordered by crooked trees that seemed to whisper secrets to one another in the wind. At the very center of the crossroads, a single black lantern stood unlit, its iron frame worn by years of neglect.

Celia sat on a flat stone a few paces from the lantern, her eyes scanning the paths. Her pulse was steady, but her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her jacket. She’d heard the stories, of course. Everyone in the village had.

It was here that the old pacts were made—where desperate people struck deals with forces they didn’t understand. But that was years ago. No one believed in such things anymore.

Except Celia.

She had no choice.

Her father was dying. The fever had ravaged him for weeks, and no medicine or prayer had worked. The healer had shaken her head, saying it was only a matter of days now. Celia wasn’t ready to let him go.

So she’d come here, to the crossroads. She didn’t know what to expect—if anything would happen at all—but desperation had a way of silencing reason.

The wind shifted, and Celia stiffened. The air grew colder, pressing against her skin like an unwelcome touch. A shadow moved at the edge of her vision, and she turned quickly, but nothing was there.

“Looking for someone?”

The voice came from behind her. Celia spun around and found herself staring at a man—or at least, something shaped like a man.

He was tall and impossibly thin, his dark coat flapping in the breeze. His face was pale, his features sharp and angular, but his eyes were what caught her attention. They gleamed like polished obsidian, reflecting nothing but darkness.

“You’ve come to make a pact,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Celia swallowed hard. “I—yes. My father—he’s sick. I want you to save him.”

The man tilted his head, a smile curving his thin lips. “And what will you offer in return?”

She hesitated. “I—I don’t have much. But I’ll do anything. Just tell me what you want.”

His smile widened. “Anything, you say? Dangerous words, my dear.”

He circled her slowly, his boots crunching softly on the gravel. “I can save your father. I can heal him completely, as though the fever never touched him. But you must give me something of equal value.”

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“What do you want?” Celia asked, her voice trembling.

He stopped in front of her, his eyes boring into hers. “Your shadow.”

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The words hung in the air like a storm cloud.

“My... shadow?” Celia repeated, confused.

“Yes,” the man said. “Your shadow is a part of you, more than you realize. It holds your past, your fears, your secrets. Give it to me, and your father will be saved.”

Celia hesitated. The idea was absurd, yet the man’s presence made it feel tangible, real. “And if I give it to you... what happens to me?”

The man chuckled softly. “You’ll live, of course. But you’ll find life... different. Shadows anchor us in ways you can’t yet comprehend. Without one, you may see the world in ways others cannot.”

He extended a long, pale hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Celia thought of her father, his weak body trembling under sweat-soaked sheets. If this was the price to save him, she would pay it.

She placed her hand in his.

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The moment their hands touched, a sharp pain shot through her, like ice piercing her veins. She gasped as her shadow began to twist and writhe beneath her, rising from the ground as though it were alive. It flowed toward the man, coiling around him like smoke before vanishing into his coat.

Celia stumbled back, clutching her chest. She felt... hollow, as though something vital had been torn from her.

The man tipped his hat. “Your father will be well by dawn. Good luck, my dear.”

He turned and disappeared into the night, leaving Celia alone in the crossroads.

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When Celia returned home, she found her father sitting up in bed, his fever gone. His color had returned, and he smiled at her with a strength she hadn’t seen in weeks.

Tears streamed down her face as she hugged him, relief washing over her. The man had kept his word.

But as the days passed, Celia began to notice changes. People looked at her strangely, their gazes lingering as though something about her was off. Shadows seemed to move unnaturally in her presence, recoiling from her as though she didn’t belong.

Worse, she started seeing things—dark figures in the corners of rooms, faces peering out from mirrors. At first, she thought they were hallucinations, but they didn’t fade.

Her nights were the worst. The darkness pressed against her like a living thing, whispering in voices she couldn’t understand.

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Celia returned to the crossroads, hoping to find the man again. But the lantern stood dark, and the paths stretched endlessly into the horizon.

She called out, her voice echoing in the stillness. “You lied to me! Come back!”

The wind carried only silence.

As weeks turned into months, Celia’s life unraveled. Her father recovered fully, but he noticed her growing isolation and unease. Friends avoided her, their discomfort palpable. The whispers in the darkness grew louder, more insistent.

One night, unable to bear it any longer, Celia followed the whispers.

They led her back to the crossroads, but this time, the paths were different. The trees leaned closer, their branches twisting unnaturally. The lantern was lit, casting an eerie, pale glow.

The man was waiting for her, his smile sharper than ever.

“Hello again,” he said.

“You ruined my life,” Celia said, her voice shaking with anger. “Take it back. I want my shadow back.”

The man laughed, a sound that echoed like shattering glass. “A deal is a deal, my dear. Shadows don’t return once they’re taken.”

“Then what do I do?” she demanded. “I can’t live like this!”

His smile faded, and he leaned closer. “There is one path left for you,” he said. “A crossroads offers many choices, but only one remains for those who give their shadows away. Follow the lantern’s light, and you’ll find it.”

Without another word, he vanished, leaving Celia alone.

She turned toward the lantern, its glow flickering faintly. The path beyond it stretched into the darkness, twisting and disappearing into the unknown.

Taking a deep breath, Celia stepped forward, her feet carrying her into the shadows.

She didn’t look back.