Chapter 6: The Beast’s Echo
The next day, they found themselves on the same bench again, without having planned it. As if their shadows were guiding them toward each other.
Lila had tied her hair back, revealing a barely visible scar behind her ear. Kelvin avoided asking about it, respecting the silence she hadn't yet chosen to break.
They spent an hour without speaking. No need. They wrote. Drew. Shared a glance now and then. Sometimes a sigh.
That simple moment, that fragile calm, had the taste of balance.
Then Lila broke the silence:
— You know... I feel like my shadow changes when I'm with you. It becomes less... aggressive.
Kelvin slowly nodded.
— Mine too. It's like... our two presences create a barrier. A more stable mental field.
— Like a space where shadows can't lie, she added.
But at that very moment, they felt a tear in the air. A shift in pressure. Like a dull, distant noise, at the edge of perception.
Kelvin sat up.
— Did you feel that?
Lila stood, alert.
— Yes. Someone... is screaming inside. Not physically. Mentally.
They ran.
A few streets away, a small square littered with abandoned playground equipment. In the center: a teenager on his knees, hands over his ears, screaming in pain.
Around him, a dark mass. Not a blurry shadow like the ones they'd seen before.
This one had a defined shape.
A torso. Two oversized arms. A jaw, huge and lined with teeth. Its red eyes glowed with a cold intelligence. It wasn't just feeding—it was commanding.
Kelvin stopped dead in his tracks.
— That's not an ordinary shadow. It's...
Lila whispered:
— A Thinking Beast.
Kelvin turned to her.
— You know that name?
— They're evolved shadows. Fragments of collective consciousness. They're born when several shadows merge around a shared idea: hatred, contempt... or humiliation.
The Beast growled, slowly raising its head toward them.
— You two... so bright. So weak... You reek of struggle. Of hope. It makes me sick.
Kelvin felt the shadow within him recoil, tremble.
— Lila... We can't fight it.
— No, she said, clutching her notebook to her chest. But we can protect the boy.
They rushed forward.
The Beast roared, shaking the psychic ground of the area. Memories poured over Kelvin like a tidal wave:
His father yelling.
His absent mother.
His childhood nightmares.
His fear of never being enough.
He staggered. But a hand caught his. Lila.
Her green eyes were shining, focused. She was whispering through clenched teeth:
— Ignore the flood. Ignore the resonance. It's trying to break you from the inside.
They reached the boy. He was trembling, his face covered in tears.
Kelvin placed a hand on his shoulder.
— You're not alone.
The Beast let out a deeper roar. The world seemed to flicker. The trees turned black, the sky buzzed like a dying screen.
But Kelvin, held up by Lila, remained standing.
Then he understood something.
The Beast was only strong if the victim believed it was real.
He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. And said aloud, to himself and to the boy:
— You have no power here. You're just a reflection. An amplified illusion. You are not me.
And through that declaration, Kelvin felt his shadow stir... but not out of fear. It calmed.
Lila echoed the words too:
— You are not me. You don't define me.
A crack appeared in the Beast's chest.
It screamed. Recoiled.
Then exploded into a rain of black mist, scattering into the air, as if dispelled by a stronger will.
The boy collapsed in Kelvin's arms. But he was breathing.
Lila fell to one knee, exhausted.
Kelvin looked at the gray sky.
— They're organizing. Learning to speak. To structure themselves.
— Yes... and we have to do the same.
They looked at each other.
Two broken souls.
But united.