Shadows Hour

The jingling bells of the Shadow Bringer were a noise that brought extreme fear along with them. The atmosphere, once full of life and peace when the sun was still up, drastically changed when it became night filling with dread and death.

Lucian had just arrived home and was sitting at the table, eating dinner with his aunt. It wasn't anything extravagant, as they were poor—just stale soup in a cracked bowl with a hard piece of bread on a half-broken table.

Cough... "Lucian, tomorrow you're going to get Stigmatized. Are you fully prepared?" she asked, placing her spoon next to her bowl.

"Yes, Aunt. I don't think it's as bad as people say it is," Lucian said confidently, sipping his soup from his spoon.

"Lucian... it's not as easy as you think," she said, covering her mouth as another violent cough racked her body.

"I... Cough... don't want you to get hurt or emotionally scarred," she added, her tone soft and gentle.

"Yes, I know, but I think I'll be fine," Lucian said, taking a bite of the hard stone-like bread.

Stigmatization, or getting Stigmatized, granted a person an ability, but first, they had to experience their worst fear. If they couldn't control their fear and passed out, they would never be able to undergo Stigmatization again.

"Everyone says that Cough..." His aunt began to cough violently before she fell off her chair onto the ground.

"Aunt! Aunt!" Lucian yelled in a panic, jumping off his chair and hurrying to her side.

"Aunt! What's happening? Aunt! Answer me!" He continued, tears streaming down his face as he gently shook her, trying to get a reaction.

Nothing happened. She didn't answer nor move. Her body was like that of a lifeless person—cold and pale—but she was still breathing. Lucian checked for air coming from her nose to be sure.

What should I do? The only person who can treat her is Mister Gram... and his house is a fair distance away from ours. But... it's still Shadows' Hour, Lucian thought, his grip tightening on his aunt as his eyes darted around the room, trying to think of a way to help her.

Time was ticking. His aunt grew weaker by the minute.

"Damn it! Damn it!" he yelled before biting his lower lip roughly.

He gently laid his aunt down on the floor before grabbing a blanket and throwing it over her body, hoping it would warm her. Her skin was almost ice cold. He then went to the drawer where his aunt had been preparing their meal earlier, opening it and grabbing a knife. Though small, he thought it would be enough to injure something if needed.

First, he walked to a window to check where the Shadows were.

Shadows were the resentment of those who had died unfairly. They were divided into different types:

Fear – Mostly non-aggressive if left alone.

Despair – Aggressive when looked at.

Anger – Aggressive if it sees movement or hears sound.

Hate – Highly aggressive, attacking anything, even inanimate objects.

These Shadows could be identified by their facial expressions.

Lucian squinted through the fog, trying to make out which type they were. He saw dark figures resembling shadows, but unlike regular shadows, they were solid black. They had large, completely white eyes and wide, white mouths, all wearing frowns. He instantly knew they were Anger.

He was worried. Now, he had to travel both in silence and without letting them see him—an incredibly difficult task. The village streets were just dirt paths, with few places to take cover. There were only a few scattered stalls, and the thick fog made things worse. It would obscure his vision but not that of the Shadows.

Lucian quickly grabbed a black cloth from the bed and wrapped it around himself. He went to the door and stood there for a moment. His chest tightened, and his heart pounded violently. He hesitated at first, but then he looked back at his aunt. Every second he wasted, she grew closer to death. He gripped the knife tightly and steeled his resolve.

He turned the doorknob and opened the door. As soon as he stepped outside, a sudden chill ran across his body. The air was heavy and far colder. As he exhaled, he could visibly see his breath. Just as he feared, he could barely see in front of him. The fog was thicker than he expected, and the darkness of night made it worse.

Shivering from the cold and fear, he walked forward, silently closing the door behind him. Step by step, he squinted his eyes to see better. His footsteps and the jingling of bells were the only sounds he could hear.

After a while, his breathing became more audible. The stress and fear were taking a toll on his body. He knew Shadows' Hour wasn't over yet—he could still hear the jingling of the Shadow Bringer's bells.

He moved from one stall to the next, carefully hiding behind them. After he a good distance, he arrived at Gram's house—the largest in the village after the local lord's. He couldn't see the house clearly, but he could see the lights on the opposite side. That was his confirmation—it had to be Gram's. His was the only house with lights outside.

But to reach it, he had to cross the street. And he had no idea where the Shadows were.

He didn't hesitate. He ran at full speed across the street—until he hit something solid. Almost like a person, he immediately knew what it was but still desperately hoped it wasn't what he was thinking of.

He slowly raised his head to look up.

Two large white eyes stared down at him, a frightening frown on their face, it was a Shadow just as he thought.

He didn't think—he just acted. He stabbed the Shadow with the knife in his hand. A dark, cold and watery liquid oozed from the wound, covering his hands not sullying them. But this only made things worse.

The Shadow let out a deafening screech, alerting all the others. They rushed toward Lucian.

He let go of the knife and used every last ounce of strength to run, leaving behind the black cloth that had been covering him. This was another mistake, but he had no choice. The Shadow he had stabbed now chased after him. The cloth had acted as camouflage—it made them think he was one of them, as they weren't very intelligent and didn't attack their own.

Lucian ran. The Shadows, though walking, moved incredibly fast, almost catching up to him.

He reached Gram's porch.

"Gram! Gram! Open up! Gram!" He pounded on the front door.

The Shadows were closing in fast.

"Gram! Graaaam!!!" His knocking intensified, his voice growing desperate.

The Shadows were now right behind him, reaching out to grab him.

He clenched his teeth, shutting his eyes in anticipation. He could feel the cold air trying to surround him.