Forward to the reader:

I know you are reading this. These pages weren't meant for you. But I will allow it. Some stories should not be forgotten. Some pages deserve to be turned. You will not find yourself dissatisfied, either, as it is my favorite account of any life. So I will allow you to read this. And I will pay special attention to you, reader, going forward. Do not learn nothing from this. Fools die foolish deaths. Let your mark lie in more than headstone. Be the hero of your wildest fantasy.

-The Watcher ?/??/???? (missing date)

March/18/1994,

Heidenskee.

My recollection of the night Juliund reawakened, for I was watching.

-The Watcher

File begins:

The sun had set, but not a soul in Heidenskee saw it go. How could they have? The sky died, as the locals liked to say. Something foul turned the white clouds over, and they lay dead up in the stratus, bleeding out weeks of heavy rain.

"Alexander!"

A young boy ran over. He had dark hair and pale brown eyes and a sly smile.

"Your cake is ready."

"It's too hot, we should wait."

Clark was an older man with greying hair and a white beard that he kept trimmed close. He had warm caring eyes that stuck out against the roughness of his face. There were scars down his neck that he tried to keep covered, and a few across his face and hands.

"Mr. Clark," Alex whispered. "Can I go upstairs?"

He looked at the boy fondly.

"It'll be my gift to you. I'll come check in an hour."

"Thanks!"

He darted for the backdoor and up the stairs. Clark watched him go. He wondered if it was healthy behavior for a twelve year old boy.

"Never was the best at parenting."

He poured himself a glass and relaxed in his armchair by the fire. On nights like this, where the sky seemed to open up and beat the ground with everything it had, nothing felt better than resting beneath a roof.

But Clark had an uneasy feeling he couldn't shake. He knew why, but he hoped that this year would be different. It didn't matter. He prepared all the same.

He started to settle before a knock at his door sent him straight up.

He looked out the window. It was dirty, but from across the room he could see the rain had never stopped.

The knock came again and this time it seemed aggressive. A shadow fell over Mr. Clark's face. "I should have known someone would come."

"Who are you?" Clark shouted. "And what do you want?" The knock began again and this time they did not stop. Clark to the window and stood inches from the glass. They kept coming, louder each time. Glasses lined in the back clinked together. A framed picture of Alex's face lit up in candles above a cake shattered. It was from his ninth birthday.

"Tavern's closed!" he shouted.

Clark took a lantern and grabbed the handle to his front door. He pulled the bolt and bared his teeth. "Tonight, so be it."

Wind ripped through the shop. There was a dark figure in the doorway. It had twisted features that were sharp like a bird's, chilling eyes that glowed steadily as if they burned, and rotting yellow teeth. The two kept their distance. It smelled of death.

"Shrike." Clark finally broke the silence. He spoke curtly. "To what do I owe this visit?"

It stretched its mouth wide and he could see every rotting tooth in it's mouth.

"May I come in?"

"No."

The smile grew colder. "This is no way to treat an old friend."

"How did you find me?"

"Relax...Kenny."

Mr. Clark's full name was Kennedy Clark. He could not disguise his rage when the thing called him Kenny. "Why are you here?" he spat.

It closed its glowing eyes and inhaled deeply through its nose. "I followed the smell...I'm afraid your house is not well."

"For once, I agree with you: you're on my doorstep."

"Aw, don't make me pout. I came here to talk."

Clark shook his head. "No, not today Shrike. Not ever."

"Do not shut that door." It hissed. "You must let me in."

"Why should I?"

Clark was scarier now, his warm brown eyes were full of disgust and his scowl pulled his scars tighter against his face.

It licked it's lips. "You are in grave danger."

"I'm not afraid of you."

"You don't need to tell me that. I surely know you aren't, but listen to me very carefully. You should be..." It paused to shiver. "Terrified."

"How curious. Are you desperate? What do you want to swindle me out of?"

"Desperate? You have no idea what I am hinting at."

Clark simply began to shut the door once more. Shrike let out a horrible scream. "If you dare ignore me-"

"Shut up."

Its hateful eyes bored into Clark's. "If you ignore me, old man, I won't even need to kill you."

For whatever reason, perhaps the way it pleaded, Mr. Clark seemed disturbed. "What are you suggesting?"

"Can you feel it?" it whispered. "The apocalypse?"

Something strange came over Clark's face. It noticed that and kept going.

"It began at the edges. Slowly stealing worlds. Now it is surging. It will destroy us all."

"I see. How is that my problem?"

"Your problem?" it hissed. "You monster."

"The best way to avoid a demon's trickery is to never give it the chance. I've already heard enough about your apocalypse."

"I'm different now. Do you know that?"

"I noticed. The old you would have never begged for anything. I think that's why I'm wasting my time on you, Shrike. This is embarrassing."

"No. I'm not the same at all."

"What in the hell is wrong with you. Maybe you've lost your mind?"

"I have gone insane." it shouted. "I died!"

"...What?"

"Have you felt death? Felt it grab you?"

"But you can't die."

It let out an awful scream and fell to its knees on the doorstep. "I can," it said shakily. "There is nothing that can stop this. We will all die."

"Stand up. What are you talking about?

Tears leaked from its black eyes. "We are not immortal."

"You've told me."

"Did you know?"

"Of course not."

"But you gave it up all the same."

"I could not bear to continue on a journey without an end."

It remained silent for some time. "Will you please invite me inside?"

Clark paused, looking Shrike up and down intently. "I will give you one chance to convince me you are not as horrible as I recall. It will not be easy. You have been warned. Shrike...you may come in."

The two walked inside the tavern in silence. When you enter a home, you expect to feel some warmth. This empty tavern was hauntingly lonely. It had a high, ribbed roof, and tables scattered like wreckage. The storm outside raged against the walls and they creaked ever so slightly. Clark lit a lamp.

"Find a seat." Clark said, waving his hand around the room. "There's enough empty chairs and empty tables. I'll go get us a drink."

Clark turned and left, leaving Shrike alone in the middle of the room. It chose a seat overlooking the street through a window. It removed its trench coat and lay it across the back of its chair. Then it smoothed its suit with shaking hands, checked its watch, and drummed its fingers across the table. Clark returned shortly holding two mugs.

"This is whiskey."

The greying man took his own seat across from Shrike, and scrutinized the creature harshly.

"Do you worst." he said. "I'll listen."

"Thank you. I'll cut straight to the point because I'm running low on time. What do you know about Death?"

Clark gripped his mug, but only shrugged. "Quite a lot. But I don't think we're talking about the same thing."

"But what do you know about Death itself?"

"Death itself..." his voice trailed off. "Death is a force of nature. What are you suggesting, that Death is some kind of God?"

"Death is real."

Clark almost laughed. "You knock on my door, unwelcomed, to tell me fairytales."

"Look at me," said Shrike, leaning into the table. "Look at my face. Can you see how serious I am?"

"Fine. You are a fantastic liar."

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"I meant it. Look at me."

Clark leaned back. "I can see you just fine."

"I'm serious Clark, look at me."

Clark stared.

"I died."

"So you say." Clark waved his hands. "But I can clearly see you here. Don't play with me."

"I am alive for no more than an hour." It checked its watch. "No, even less. I am running out of time."

Clark studied him closely. He was searching for something in Shrike's eyes.

"You tell a good story, but I don't have the patience for this."

"I was brought back from the dead. If I know anyone who should be able to tell so, it's you."

"That's quite literally impossible."

"No. Almost impossible."

"I'll need an explanation. Tell me exactly what happened. And if you are planning to lie? Save yourself the time and get out."

It nodded and spoke immediately.

"A week ago I felt a presence like no other in the outer ring. I spent days drifting through the void, trying to catch a glimpse. I landed on the white comet Epson. There I found something I never expected. The birthplace of a god."

"Was that Death?"

"No, a different god. It wanted to destroy me. I knew it instinctually. I tried running, but I couldn't."

Shrike gripped the edges of the table so hard they splintered. Its breathing was shallower, and sweat rolled down its face.

"Then I died."

Clark looked amazed. "You make it sound so simple."

"It was not a simple death." it muttered darkly. "I fought like an animal. I thought I might have a chance. Then it got bored and killed me."

Mr. Clark raised his hand. "Forgive me for interrupting. You claim you died. But here you are at my table. So how did you come back from the hands of death that I've never known to let go. In all my years of learning."

"I am not finished. When I died, a mysterious figure appeared to me. Said that he wanted to talk. It was Death. He led me to the afterlife and it was beautiful. An endless field of tall grass and a cool breeze. He told me I would wander around these fields until my soul gently fell apart like sand. At last, I felt at home."

"But Death was afraid. I stopped him, told him to tell me what was wrong. And then he gave me a choice. I could choose to wander these fields and maybe it would be forever, maybe Death could find another hero. Or I could choose to return to my body. It would be painful, he said. The most painful thing that Death knew existed. It would be so painful that my body would fail and I would die again. He told me I'd have an hour. And if I left the fields I could never return. My second death would destroy me completely and it would be like I had never lived at all."

It began to laugh. "And I gave it all up. I may never get to the afterlife, but you can. Everyone else can. At least now I'll do something good with my life."

Clark mulled over what Shrike had told him. "Even if that were possible, which, it is not, why would I choose to believe you?"

The Shrike unclipped its wristwatch and handed it to Clark.

"What is this?" Clark asked, without bothering to take it. "Why is the time so wrong? Is it broken?"

"No. It tells me how much longer I have to live. I die when it's made a full revolution."

"Who gave you it?"

"Death did."

"Enough. You can leave."

Shrike grinned. "You invited me inside."

"You won't come back for a long time when I kill you. I can promise you that."

"You can't really kill me, Kenny. I've already died. So why would I care? Hold my watch."

"Why? What's the point."

"Artifacts that come across the intensely powerful are permanently cast in their shadow. You can feel it with this watch. When I hold it, it almost feels like Death is here, begging for my help."

"Do you know why I'm here?" Clark raised his voice to ask. "Excuse me when I say this, but here in this shitty town? To get old and die."

"I understand," the demon assured him. "And I never understood before. When you're alive, it's so hard to let go. I laughed for days when you made your decision. I always though you had lost your mind, and well, I've lost mine too."

"You don't understand anything." Clark muttered darkly. He grabbed the watch. "Careful-" Shrike began, but Clark hushed him. He slipped the watch onto his wrist, and stared at it hard.

"What do you feel?" the Shrike asked.

Wordlessly, Clark handed it back.

"Could you feel it?"

Clark sat in contemplative silenced. He sipped on his drink slowly. After a minute, he sighed deeply. "Can you prove it to me in any other way?"

"Prove that I'm dead? That I met Death? That I have under an hour to save the world?"

"Try that."

"Well I can't. I already told you my story. Do you believe me?"

Clark would not answer, he only sipped his drink.

"You've got to believe me-"

Clark raised his hand to silence the Shrike, casting a wavy shadow across its face. "I hear something. Who is that? Shrike, did you invite a friend?"

There was another knock.

"Who is at my door?"

"The police."

"What?"

Shrike could not look Clark in the eyes.

"Listen you fucking parakeet, if you're trying to get me arrested in my retirement I won't just kill you, I'll..."

It was shaking slightly. Then it looked back up, and Clark could see it grinning like a cat. It laughed so hard it doubled over in it's chair.

"I KNEW YOU WOULDN'T LISTEN TO ME." it shrieked. "I'm sorry it had to come to this, Juliund, but your little retirement is over."

"We're not finished." Clark warned it. He stood and quickly walked across the tavern floor. He opened the door with a fake smile plastered across his face.

"What can I do for you?"

Mr. Dupont was a weathered man. His greying hair was slicked, exposing the scars that marred his face. His eyes were bright blue.

"Name?"

Clark scowled. "Kennedy."

"Kennedy Clark?"

"The very one. Can I help you officer?"

The man held a wet cigarette in his fingers. The rain pushed his soaked grey hair over his eyes but they smoldered anyway.

"You're under arrest on behalf of the Empire." The man flashed his silver badge. "I am with the Eldora Military Police. They ordered your immediate detainment until further questioning."

Clark was really quiet. "I see." He looked the man up and down slowly. "A single officer, sent to arrest a fugitive of the Empire. They must have a lot of faith in you."

Mr. Dupont's hand wavered over his belt.

Clark chuckled. "Just an old man's humor. Come inside, Freddy."

"Frederic. But..." his voice trailed off.

Mr. Clark loomed in the entrance. "I know the feeling. Please, come inside."

They took a seat at the same table. Shrike and Mr. Dupont stared down Mr. Clark, who sat across from them.

"So, you're going to arrest me?" he finally asked.

"What do you think he wants? Coffee and donuts?"

Mr. Dupont held up his hand. "Don't get ahead of yourself. Shrike has set conditions that I have been ordered to allow."

"This is a new low for Eldora."

"He simply asked to speak with you privately after I arrived. The Empire asked that we allow him to do so."

Mr. Dupont stood up and stepped aside.

"This is not an opportunity to escape, Kennedy Clark. Your tavern is surrounded on every side. Don't be foolish."

After he walked far away, Shrike leaned in. "You're not strong enough to escape alone."

Mr. Clark scowled. "That's what you say, rat."

"Because it's true. You'll never escape Heidenskee alive. Unless the two of us fight together."

"Interesting." He leaned back in his seat. "So what do you want from me? I knew you were trying to swindle me out of something the moment you knocked on my door. So don't be shy, what do you want?"

"Search yourself, Kenny. You've known the answer for years."

"What...no..."

"We must sacrifice your child."

Mr. Clark choked back a cry. "My son?"

"There is no price too high-"

"Don't you dare play hero."

"One life...for every life. Every child and their parents. Every god."

"I will give you ten seconds to leave. Before I drag your corpse out of my house."

"I knew it would be this way."

"I SAID GO."

"But I brought company."

"You could bring all of hell to my front door but you better be ready to go back with them."

"Very well then. Since you won't cooperate." He stood up quickly.

"I'll kill you for this." Clark said with murderous glint in his cold eyes.

"I know." Then it stepped far aside. "Officer, you may proceed."

Mr. Dupont stepped up with his hand on his belt and another holding a pair of glowing handcuffs. "Hands behind your back, face the wall."

Mr. Clark did not move. Instead, he spoke softly. "Is this justice?"

"You have three seconds." Mr. Dupont warned him.

"I have a son, officer. The moment you put those around my wrist, Shrike will go kill him. So I ask you again. Is this justice?"

"What?" Mr. Dupont muttered. "I know you have an adopted son. I was briefed on that. We'll be leaving him under the care of the Empire, where he'll grow up under the law. I will escort your son free of harm, you have my word."

Shrike interjected.

"No. Freddie, this was not our deal. I will be escorting his son to the Empire."

The officer's eyes widened. "Why does it matter who escorts his son?"

"A deal is a deal."

Mr. Dupont turned away with a look of disgust evident across his face.

"Please Mr. Clark, relax, there must be a misunderstanding-"

"There has been no misunderstanding!" Shrike shouted. "I need that child. Anyone who gets in my way will be destroyed."

Clark faced Shrike. His eyes glowed yellow in the dark room, and when Shrike saw that, he shivered.

"There is nothing in this damn world more important to me than my son."

"HE IS A MONSTER." it protested.

"Aren't we all?"

Shrike screamed and ran at Mr. Clark with its claws extended. Its clothes ripped and the bits of cloth morphed into black feathers.

"I will kill your cursed child, Juliund!"

Mr. Clark's eyes were a pair of blazing yellow suns. The two met in the middle of the room and the impact sent a ripple that flipped the table over and threw Officer Dupont across the room. He slumped against the wall. Glass lights and bottles exploded one after another as the pressure grew.

"You bastard." the shrike screamed. He grabbed Mr. Clark by the throat and slammed him to the floor. "You think you're better than me?"

Mr. Clark tried to respond but he could only choked on his own blood. Shrike wasted no time in peeling him off the floor and smashing him back down again. "Just because you won't kill anymore? Does that make you a hero?"

Across the room, officer Dupont was beginning to stir. His eyes flickered open in time to watch Shrike grab a chair and smash it mercilessly into Clark's face. The pressure in the room continued to build. Mr. Dupont could feel it. It was as wet as humidity, or as obvious as wind. And it grew stronger by the second.

"You are disgusting. Selfish! I will not regret taking your life."

Shrike took the shattered leg of the chair and impaled Clark's left arm, and then his right arm. He was left pinned to the floor like a bug. Clark let out an awful inhuman scream that echoed through the house.

Shrike raised a third leg and lined it up with his heart. "Die." it said, plunging the splintered wood down with murderous intent. It was a this moment that the static equalized. Like a radio flipping through stations, then landing on the right one. Clark grabbed the the stake with one hand and grabbed Shrike's neck with the other. He grinned.

"You've awakened something inside me, Shrike."

It said nothing.

"Don't disappoint me and beg for mercy."

Clark ripped his arms from the stakes that pinned him and threw Shrike across the room. His old age dissolved and left a predator in its place.

"You're evil..." Shrike choked.

"Quiet." Clark roared. His voice echoed around the room too long, Mr. Dupont thought. Shrike watched, clutching the flipped table like a lifeline.

"He'll kill you," it whispered. "Your "son" will kill you, don't you know?"

"I don't care."

"What is wrong with you!" it cried in anguish. "You will die, avatar. Juliund, you are not invincible either. The boy will reach you too.

"My ways are beyond your understanding."

"THEY ARE," it screeched. "YOUR BELOVED "SON" WILL BETRAY YOU."

Tears flowed down Mr. Clark's beaten face. "Perhaps you are right. But that changes nothing."

The Shrike howled as if it was on fire, but he was too weak to fight. Clark turned his attention to the Officer, who sat slumped on the perimeter.

"I am afraid I cannot let you arrest me tonight. I remembered that I have a son to protect. And I cannot let you leave here alive."

Clark shuffled his swollen feet, closing in on the cornered deputy. His glowing yellow eyes were set in dark circles. It was as if the humanity was ripped from Mr. Clark like a sheet, revealing something sinister.

"I'll never let you leave this room" Mr. Dupont shouted, outstretching his trembling hand with a finger held to the trigger. "You're exactly the kind of man I thought you were, but I must admit I'm still disgusted."

He shot Clark and sent him stumbling back. Another shot. Clark fell over to his knees, gushing blood from his chest. The third shot. All three went straight through him. The old man was knocked unconscious in a pool of his own blood.

Shrike had straightened up and and wasted no time. "Help!" he screamed in the voice of Mr. Clark. Mr. Dupont stared at it with a look of horror. "Help me!"

The backdoor swung open and Alex stumbled out. He looked at the thing mimicking Clark, and then at his dying body lying on the floor. He let out a strangled scream and slammed the door shut.

Shrike flew across the room to the door and rammed into it, yanking the locked handle and screeching with excitement. It clawed at the wood blending it into a pulp.

"I'll get the boy. You finish the avatar." it ordered.

Mr. Dupont watched as the door was ripped to pieces. He looked at the man he had shot three times, and then at the walls, staring off into the distance. "He's only a boy."

"Does it matter?" it screamed as it dug into the door.

The detective turned his gun and pointed it at Shrike.

"Yes. Because I've got some damned morals, so it does matter."

Then he unloaded into its back. It went rigid as its bloodless body collapsed to the floor. He held the transmitter button on his radio with shaking hands.

"I need immediate backup. Bring an ambulance."

End of file.