I am NightShade

Hisses and rattles from spray cans continued to disturb the silence, echoing through a corner of the city hidden from much, if any, presence. The depth of the night acted as a blanket, shielding the actions that took place beneath it.

A stranger, dressed entirely in black with a masculine frame, held the source of the noise, his left hand moving with precision and determination. His golden eyes, highlighted by the darkness, were fixed on a wall, his mouth concealed beneath a black mask.

The stranger's focus was occasionally broken by quiet grunts, the frustration evident from small flaws in his work. His eyes scanned the area now and then, ensuring no intruders appeared, as that would only be a nuisance. And after a long stretch of effort, he was finally done.

His gaze fell upon the artwork with satisfaction. But the feeling lasted only moments, his eyes catching subtle errors likely visible only to him. Stubbornness made him want to start over, but after a pause, he let it go, realizing he was overthinking. Taking the moment, he sat on the floor in front of the artwork, eyes fixed on it while his thoughts drifted inward.

"NightShade, huh?" he muttered softly, his natural voice hollow and calm.

Soon, he lay on his back, his fingers resting behind his black hair to keep it from touching the ground. His gaze shifted to the night sky above, his thoughts circling the name he'd just spoken.

"The graffiti artist who only strikes at night," he thought, then scoffed lightly. "What good is that if everyone else does it?"

His mind continued to churn, returning to the true reason for his outing: those damned dreams. He tried to recall the specifics, but the effort only brought a headache. He flinched slightly, then eased his mind, returning his gaze skyward as the strain of memory faded. But as he did, he noticed something critically important.

The darkness of night had already begun to fade, giving way to the light of morning. His eyes sharpened as he jolted upright, rushing toward the graffiti bag tucked in a corner. Opening it quickly, he pulled out his phone and checked the time.

"Damn it," he muttered, scrambling to pack the remaining spray cans.

His gaze shifted between his bag and the sky, now beginning to lighten, and the hurried movements of his hands, his anxiety over the change in time subtly showing. The first strands of light slowly broke through the dark, and as he prepared to leave, he clutched his bag in his left hand and his skateboard in his right. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, bracing himself for departure.

As dawn crept into sight and the faint glow of sunlight spilled across the streets, he relaxed his stance, gasping for breath in unexpected exhaustion.

Shortly after a few steadying breaths, he dropped his skateboard to the ground and rolled forward across a completely different setting than where he'd stood just seconds ago.

He now rode along the sidewalk of a suburban neighborhood, far removed from the cityscape he'd been surrounded by moments earlier. Somehow, in the span of a single moment, he had crossed an impossible distance before daylight could catch him, traversing several miles from the depths of the city to the outer edge of an estate in less than a second.

Riding onward, he paid little attention to the unnaturalness of what had just occurred. But unlike how others might have reacted, he showed little concern, like he always did. He knew it wasn't something he could explain; not that he had anyone to explain it to. So, as he always did, he ignored it.

Skating the final stretch, he arrived at the front door of a house. Stepping off his board, he sat down on the front steps to catch his breath from his earlier movement before finally rising to his feet.

As his hand hovered over the doorknob, something else came to mind. He circled to the back of the house and slipped into a small shed. There, he tucked the bag of spray cans beneath a hidden cabinet behind a shelf, before returning to the front door.

He slid the key into the door, but as he turned it, he realized it was already unlocked, unlike how he had left it.

Opening the door carefully and stepping inside, he glanced behind him to ensure he hadn't left any paint in his trail. But when he turned his gaze forward again, he noticed the living room light was still on. Within its glow, a figure rested on the couch. Moving silently, he approached and saw a woman asleep, her head resting on her arm over the sofa's side, her long black hair cascading down around her.

"Mom," he murmured softly, understanding the meaning behind her presence there.

He recognized how long he had been out. Her anxiety over his absence had likely kept her awake, leaving her no choice but to wait for him. A quiet sigh escaped him, the disappointment in himself clear in his solemn gaze.

"I don't deserve you," he muttered under his breath before turning his attention to the staircase nearby.

After climbing up for a moment, he returned with a small blanket. With care, he covered his mother's sleeping form and paused for a few seconds, silently watching her before heading back upstairs.

Making his way through the hallway and into his room, he dropped his paint-stained clothes into the laundry basket off to the side--his mask revealing the face of a late teenager beneath--then moved into the bathroom.

After a brisk shower to rinse off the sweat and paint, he slipped into a clean pair of joggers and made his way to bed, shirtless.

From the nightstand, he picked up a small rubber ball before lying down. With his gaze fixed on the ceiling, he tossed the ball against the far wall. It bounced off one surface, then another, before landing back in his palm.

He repeated the motion for a while, his effortless precision speaking volumes about his skill. With each rebound, his thoughts drifted toward a familiar, wordless sensation, one that had lingered since his eighteenth birthday months ago. His mind floated with it, fading slowly into the quiet until, at last, the ball slipped through his fingers on its final bounce.

Staring at the ceiling, the weight of his thoughts pressed gently down on him until finally, his body gave in, and sleep crept in to claim him.

"Perhaps it might just be better to unveil the truth to him now," a voice suddenly echoed, stirring him from sleep. "There is no merit in pressing further."

Familiar surroundings dissolved, replaced by an otherworldly realm, an unsettling detachment from Earth surrounded by the complete expanse of thick white fog. Rising from an unfamiliar state, three colossal figures glanced back at him, all about eight feet tall.

"What the..." he began, a strange recognition seizing his thoughts.

One of the strange beings, who appeared closest to him, looked to see if he was alright. "He may be remembering something," the stranger said, their glance mirroring the rest as they awaited a response from him.

Soon, the being closest called out to him once more in concern... "Klaus, Klaus, Klaus..."

"Klaus!"

Suddenly, he opened his eyes and sat up in bed at the sound of his name. Now fully awake, he realized it had all been a dream.

This marked the third time this month that he had experienced the same dream, and he was starting to wonder whether it was time to seek help from a professional. But his thoughts were quickly interrupted by another knock on his door.

"Yo, Klaus?" a voice called out again, masculine but clearly around his age.

"Shade?" Klaus asked softly. "Is that you?"

"Uh... who else?" the voice confirmed from the other side. "You up, man?"

Klaus rose from his bed, stretching slightly. "I guess," he muttered, his voice naturally quiet.

"Well, it's morning," Shade replied plainly. "Time to get ready for school."

Klaus sighed, glancing over at the alarm clock beside his bed that read 7:12 a.m. "Sure," he replied after a moment. "I'll be down in a bit."

"Alright," Shade said, followed by a short pause. "Oh, and by the way... Mom's already making breakfast, so hurry up before yours gets cold."

"Sure," Klaus said again, just before he heard Shade's footsteps fade down the hall.

He headed into the bathroom and took yet another quick shower before brushing his teeth and preparing for school. Standing before the mirror in silence, he stared at his wet, messy hair, but paid it little mind. All he could think about was the persistence of that dream; the same one, once again.

With a tired sigh, he chose to ignore it, recognizing the futility of overthinking. And with that, he finished getting ready and headed downstairs.

As Klaus descended the steps, the smell of bacon and sausages drifted up to greet him. Making his way to the dining room, he spotted Shade already eating, his eyes glued to the television. A quick glance to the side showed his mother, just finishing up some eggs in the kitchen. Her attention shifted as she noticed him enter.

"Morning, honey," his mother greeted. "How was your sleep?"

Klaus noted that she hadn't mentioned his late return, even though she clearly knew. The unspoken weight of it settled over him. "Same as always," he soon muttered.

His mother smiled warmly. "Well, I hope that means it was great," she said cheerfully, flipping the eggs in the pan with practiced ease. "Anyway, your breakfast is already on the table, so eat up before it gets cold, okay?"

"Sure," Klaus replied softly.

Klaus recognized his mother was unaware of the reasons for his absence, yet she still respected his privacy and chose not to press him for answers.

But as he moved toward the table, he turned back to her, his expression tinged with guilt.

"Mom?" Klaus called gently.

"Yes, honey?" his mother replied, looking back at him.

"I'm sorry... about this morning."

A quiet pause lingered momentarily before she approached him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"It's alright, Klaus," she said reassuringly. "Just make sure to give me a heads-up next time you're out late, so I don't have to worry, alright?"

Her smile radiated warmth. And while it didn't erase the guilt building in Klaus's chest, he understood her response for what it was.

"I will, Mom," he said, his voice sincere.

As his mother returned to the kitchen, he turned back toward the dining table. "I really don't deserve you," he murmured under his breath.

Reaching the dining room, Klaus took a seat beside Shade, both of them engrossed in the news as they ate their breakfast. The name NightShade came up once again--unsurprising, given how frequently it had dominated the media in recent weeks. A few unrelated news segments followed, though none were particularly relevant to them.

After finishing their meal, they helped their mother with the dishes and began getting ready to leave for school. But just as they were about to step away, a news segment caught their attention.

"The masked international criminal known as X has struck again, claiming the life of France's Minister of Finance last night," the news anchor reported. "According to eyewitnesses, the mercenary simply walked in out of nowhere during the minister's conference, carrying out the assassination and disappearing after walking out of sight." 

"Wow, this X guy moves fast," Shade remarked. "Wasn't he somewhere in South America just last week?"

"No rest for the wicked, I guess," Klaus replied.

"I guess," Shade echoed with a small giggle, grabbing his bag and heading for the door as they prepared to depart.

After saying goodbye to their mother and stepping out of the house, Klaus grabbed his skateboard while Shade lingered beside him, visibly pondering something.

"Hey, Klaus," Shade began, his usually upbeat tone subdued with quiet thought, "do you think what he's doing is justifiable? Even if... the minister wasn't exactly a good person?"

Klaus took a second to consider the question before answering.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I think taking countless lives like that, no matter the reason, can never be justified."

His voice was steady, his expression neutral. Shade gave a small nod, a faint smile curving at his lips.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said quietly.

Their conversation drifted into silence as the two set off toward school.

As the duo walked side by side, the contrast between them was impossible to ignore. While Shade radiated a cheerful and approachable energy, his nature bright and upbeat, Klaus embodied the opposite. He walked with a gloomy, indifferent stare, his expression covered in shadows. His eyes were half-lidded, the dark circles beneath them the result of his lack of sleep, which only emphasized his worn state further.

After a long walk, they finally reached the entrance of their school.

As they stepped inside, two male students approached Shade. One playfully threw his arm over Shade's shoulder, while the other circled around to greet him for the day. The three chatted briefly, but during the exchange, Klaus continued forward at the same pace, neither acknowledging them nor adjusting his stride.

Shade noticed his brother's departure, his smile dimming slightly. "I'll see you during history," he called after him.

Klaus raised one hand in a wordless wave but didn't look back or slow down. The group watched him for a quiet moment before turning back to their conversation.

Continuing through the hallway, Klaus dropped his skateboard to the floor and rode toward his locker for a bit.

"Teacher just ahead," a passing student warned as Klaus neared a classroom.

Without hesitation, Klaus dismounted and tucked the skateboard under his arm, just moments before the teacher peeked out to investigate the sound.

"I hope that wasn't you?" she asked, her tone sharp with suspicion as their eyes met.

"No, ma'am," Klaus replied flatly, not breaking stride. Once she retreated back inside the classroom, he dropped the board again and resumed skating down the corridor with calm determination.

Soon, he reached his locker, set down his bag, and grabbed the books he needed for his first class: math.

Sitting in class, Klaus found it nearly impossible to stay awake. The exhaustion from his sleepless night was beginning to take its toll. He listened half-heartedly as the teacher lectured, but before long, his eyes began to droop, and he drifted into sleep.

"Mr. Walker?" the teacher's voice cut in sharply.

Klaus's eyes opened, realizing he had been called on.

"Would you like to answer this question for the class then?" the teacher continued, recognizing he had been asleep.

With a sigh, Klaus rose to his feet and glanced at the equation on the board for a moment. "81.72," he muttered after a breath, then immediately sank back into his seat.

The teacher regarded him with a mixture of familiarity and mild annoyance, since Klaus's indifferent attitude was nothing new to him. "I know you get good grades already," he said as he turned back to the board, "but please, try not to sleep in my class."

Klaus sighed again, the weight of the day already pressing down on him.

The next few minutes crawled by. Klaus endured the remainder of class in a detached haze, mentally checked out despite being physically present. Eventually, the bell rang, marking the end of first period.

Making his way back to the lockers, Klaus retrieved his books for second period: History, a general class held in the auditorium.

History was a subject Klaus barely cared for. Though he maintained above-average grades, it was only to avoid the inconvenience that came with failing. He rarely paid attention to the lessons, and when he heard the topic for the day, his interest declined even further.

"For your final semester," the teacher began, "we're going to explore a very interesting, though controversial, chapter of history. A story many still struggle to accept as truth: the Onyx Period of the monsters, and mankind's only recorded interaction with a god."

She paused, offering a brief overview of what the topic would entail. "We'll cover the era when humans and monsters once shared the same ground," she explained. "Until something provoked the monsters, sending them into a frenzy against the human race. It was a horrifying period that could have ended humanity entirely... if not for the intervention of a divine man."

Students glanced around the auditorium, exchanging skeptical looks.

"The man stood over eight feet tall," the teacher continued, reading from a thick book. "His presence shook the world itself. He appeared in time to save a fleeing woman and her child from the monsters. His name was Siege, the god of War, and the only god believed to have made contact with humans. He will be our point of focus for today."

Silence fell for a moment before scattered chuckles suddenly broke out across the room.

"So wait," one student said, half-laughing, "a random man just drops from the sky and saves the last few humans? After almost all of them are already dead?"

"Uh... yes, that's correct," the teacher answered, her voice uncertain. "No one knows why the gods delayed their intervention."

"Sounds kinda cliché, don't you think?" another student added. "This is supposed to be history class, not story time."

"Yeah, why are we even learning about this?" someone else chimed in.

The teacher paused again, slight giggles still audible in the auditorium. "Well… it's a story from the past," she explained. "You might not believe it, but it's still considered part of recorded history."

"But do you believe it, ma'am?" came a voice from the crowd. "Do you believe gods exist, and that monsters once lived among us?"

The teacher hesitated. "Well… my personal opinion isn't what matters here."

"Then why are we learning this in our final semester?" the same voice pressed.

The teacher's patience began to waver. "Look," she said, her tone firmer, "I'm here to teach you what the curriculum expects you to know. If you don't believe it, fine, but you have to study it anyway if you want to pass."

Her hesitation, followed by the abrupt dismissal, revealed more than she intended about her opinions. Still, she continued to elaborate on what the semester would cover and what material would be tested. But while all this occurred, Klaus had already drifted off to sleep, his head on his desk, hidden among the mass of students that filled the auditorium.

He had no interest in the lesson and chose instead to use the time to rest. Yet, as his eyes closed and his body slumped forward, what happened next was not what he expected.

"Perhaps it might just be better to unveil the truth to him now," a voice suddenly echoed, stirring him from sleep. "There is no merit in pressing further."

Familiar surroundings dissolved, replaced by an otherworldly realm, an unsettling detachment from Earth surrounded by the complete expanse of thick white fog. Rising from an unfamiliar state, three colossal figures glanced back at him, all about eight feet tall.

"What the..." he began, a strange recognition seizing his thoughts.

One of the strange beings, who appeared closest to him, looked to see if he was alright. "He may be remembering something," the stranger said, their glance mirroring the rest as they awaited a response from him.

Soon, the being closest called out to him once more in concern... "Klaus, Klaus, Klaus..."

"Klaus!"

Klaus jolted awake instantly, stirred from his trance by Shade's persistent tapping.

"Wake up, man. Class is over," Shade's voice cut through.

Klaus blinked, slowly realizing it had been the same recurring dream. "Weird," he muttered, confused.

It was the first time he'd ever had that dream twice in the same day.

Rising to his feet, he exited the auditorium alongside Shade, only to have his attention called shortly after.

CONVERSATION

Shade: So? What did you think?

Klaus: About what?

Shade: Y'know, the whole thing about gods existing and stuff.

Klaus paused on the spot for a bit, and Shade halted as well, glancing at him.

Klaus: I think it's a ridiculous story.

Shade was surprised by Klaus's words.

Shade: Wow, really? That's surprising.

Klaus: I'm guessing that means you believe it, then?

Shade: Kinda. I mean... it's not that ridiculous of a story to believe.

Klaus raised an eyebrow.

Klaus: It's not ridiculous to believe a story about gods that saved humanity from monsters?

Shade remained silent for a bit.

Shade: I mean, when you say it like that...

Klaus sighed as he continued to walk. "Don't you think you choose to believe it because the idea that a bunch of celestial beings protecting humanity sounds appealing?" he asked calmly, his gaze remaining ahead.

Shade's silence persisted for a bit before he caught up to Klaus. "I mean, maybe," he admitted. "But... just because their existence can't be proven doesn't mean they don't exist."

Klaus understood his brother's point, even if it clashed with his beliefs. "I guess that's fair," he admitted, before elaborating his point. "But I personally fail to believe such a convenient story. The world we live in isn't a good place to begin with, so if there is a god, or a bunch of them, then they're doing a terrible job."

Shade smiled, understanding Klaus's frustration despite the clash of their beliefs. "I guess your mind can't be changed on this topic," he said.

Klaus soon sighed. "I guess..." he responded as they continued on their trail to their lockers.

After the next class, break time arrived shortly before the final class of the day. Klaus made his way to his locker, swapping out his used books to collect the ones he needed.

As he reached his locker, a growing murmur swelled through the hallway, becoming increasingly audible. The students seemed captivated by something, their attention converging on a particular spot.

At first, Klaus remained indifferent, his focus undisturbed. However, the crescendo of chatter and the rising clamor eventually prompted him to glance back and investigate the source of the commotion. A trio of girls had emerged into the spotlight of attention, though it was clear the focus centered on just one of them.

The students' stares revealed the rare yet coveted presence of the girl at the center as she made her way down the hallway. Her style was immaculate, her long blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, accentuated by soft pink highlights at the tips. She was the embodiment of beauty, and the rapt attention she commanded confirmed it. All eyes were on her--except for one.

As the girl moved forward with a radiant smile, she quickly noticed the one person who seemed immune to her presence. Recognizing who it was, she appeared unsurprised but curious.

"Perhaps I could finally give it a try," she thought to herself, eyes settling on Klaus as she gestured for her friends to change course.

Klaus kept his focus on his locker until he became aware of three shadows halting just behind him. Even so, he paid them no mind, his attention still forward.

"Hey, Klaus," one of the girl's companions greeted, her tone light and upbeat.

"Hey, Madison," Klaus replied shortly, his eyes never leaving his locker.

A smile tugged at Madison's lips at his response. But noticing her friend's subtle displeasure at Klaus's dismissive tone, she pouted softly and turned away, concealing the lingering smile for herself.

It wasn't long before the lead girl initiated the conversation. "Oh, you must be Klaus Walker?" she began.

But Klaus didn't respond.

A flicker of irritation passed across her face, though she maintained her composure. With the attention of the hallway squarely on her, she was determined not to lose ground.

"I don't think we've met in person," she continued. "My name is..."

"Rose Valentine," Klaus interrupted. "I know."

A confident smile crept across Rose's features, bolstered by his familiarity with her name. "So, you know who I am?" she asked, her poise beginning to return.

"The girl that everyone can't keep their eyes off," Klaus said as he swapped out his books, his gaze still on his locker. "The most beautiful, irresistible girl in the entire school."

Rose beamed at the compliment, her confidence reaffirmed by Klaus's words. But the moment was fleeting, shattered by his next words.

"Now, can you get lost?"

Klaus's remark struck like a thorn. Rose's expression shifted instantly, her gaze flickering nervously around the hallway as she realized every pair of eyes was still on her. A sharp wave of embarrassment surged through her.

Her friends quickly caught on to her discomfort and stepped in. "Come on, Klaus, that's not nice," one of them said with a hint of reproach.

Klaus looked mildly puzzled by the response, raising an eyebrow in quiet confusion. The full weight of the moment didn't quite register with him; he hadn't meant to be cruel, he just simply didn't care.

After a brief pause, Rose recovered enough to flash a smile. The corridor remained still, every onlooker transfixed by the scene unfolding before them.

Turning back to Klaus, she finally spoke again. "Aww, come on, Klaus," she said, forcing a big smile. "You didn't have to say all that. Honestly, I'm not interested in such flattery."

"Uh-huh," Klaus said softly, though keeping it to himself.

Rose held her gaze on him, a grin growing as she continued. "Though, what I'm really interested in... is what you personally think."

Klaus sighed, finally turning his gaze towards the girls. But the moment he did, he witnessed something he couldn't ignore.

For the first time in their entire exchange, his expression shifted into shock, caught entirely off guard. At first, he thought it was a trick of the light, but after blinking again, the truth set in. What he was seeing was indeed real.

A wave of confusion overtook him, and his voice came out in a low murmur. "What the..." he muttered, his shock evident as he realized Rose's pupils had shifted from their usual sky blue to a glowing shade of pink.