Shades

Eden shuddered awake at the sound of stretching duct tape. Her head was throbbing, and when she moved lights flashed in her eyes and her stomach turned. It didn’t help that her feet were roughly lifted and secured with the aforementioned tape, and dropped to the ground, sending raging waves of pain across Denny’s temples. She fought to stay unconscious and analyze the situation. She tried to remember where she was, who she had been with. How did she end up like this?
Denny tugged weakly at her hands, which were also taped together. Some more minor shifting told her that her knees were also wrapped up tight. She heard whispering, deep and wordless, as someone moved up and down beside her, doubling up on the duct tape.
“Should’a stayed in the Dreamscape, Denny,” she heard her Shade-Weston mutter. “The Waking world is a dangerous place.”
He slapped a strip of tape over her mouth and patted her leg before hoisting himself off the floor.
“We’re almost finished, anyway. In just a few days this world will be full of Shades. Well, actually, it already is. We just need to find ourselves a steady supply of hosts.”
Eden could not feel her fingers or toes. She felt cold and numb and afraid. Shade Weston moved into the kitchen, mumbling to himself. She needed to do something. She needed to act fast. Coulson had to know what was happening. She turned her head, hair tangling against the old carpet, looking for her phone. She had dropped it by her luggage and in the struggle it had been kicked just out of view. She looked back to the kitchen. Weston was still in view, and rummaging in the pantry. As he moved about she could see that he had procured her grandfather’s old hunting rifle. He was going to kill her. Her stomach dropped and she looked back to the phone. There was no way she could crawl over there before he came back, or before her noticed.
“You know your grandpa was deviated after you disappeared,” the Shade called from the other room. “He lost his precious granddaughter, then his son. When his wife died he said that he would give anything to have them back.”
Shade Weston came back to Eden’s side and slid a couple rounds into the barrel.
“Your dad was an almost successful host. Your gran was too old,” it said. “Too sickly to be useful. Oliver, on the other hand, was a perfect shell— angry and strong. The perfect insurgent. Over the past three years he’s been sending us into his neighbors and other townspeople. A real pal.”
The Shade gave her a sickly smile. “But now, even he’s run out of usefulness. I’ll need a new host soon. Thought I’d use you, but…”
He snapped the gun to.
“You’ll make a much nicer trophy if you’re dead. I’m sure I’ll have first pickings at the new humans Onri is making.”
Eden started. New humans? She didn’t have to think too hard about what that meant. Somehow the Shades intended to create humans that were easier to possess. Apparently there was only one Shade in charge, too, which Eden had not considered. She knew Shades to act together when it benefited them, but they usually held no hierarchy over one another. This was super important; even if Eden was a flop at purification, the least she could do was live long enough to tell her uncle. The Shade raised the gun to her head and Eden squeezed her eyes shut. She furiously tried to relax. Eden needed to be in a particular state of mind to use her power, and wild panic was not it.
The trigger clicked and she held her breath. There was a pop and a mild explosion, and Shade Weston let out an inhuman screech of pain. Eden exhaled and dared to open her eyes. It had worked! She had managed to keep the bullet contained. When it sparked, instead of launching into her head the bullet exploded backwards, burning the Shade’s human hands. Enraged, it kicked her multiple times before stumbling back into the kitchen. Eden let her head stop spinning before she rolled herself face-up. She couldn’t hear the Shade anymore, but didn’t think it was in the kitchen.
Eden turned her attention to the tape around her wrists. She twisted her hands, but the more she struggled the harder the bindings became. Eden paused to regulate her breathing, and looked around the room for something sharp. She tugged her hands again and her charm bracelet became loosened from the tape. The sudden movement brushing her skin startled her and she stopped moving.
Eden’s eyes widened with inspiration and she began fidgeting again, blindly moving the bracelet so that she had access to the ballerina charm. Hopefully, if she pressed the toes of the charm to the tape, she might be able to make a tear. She pressed the charm up with her stomach, but it slipped. She cursed herself and started again. Every so often she would pause and listen for the Shade.
On her fourth try Eden managed to make a small enough slit to pull back the tape from her wrists. She sighed in relief and wriggled out of the makeshift cuffs. She yanked the tape of her mouth and sat up, scraping her nails over the rest of the tape in search of its beginning. She had stripped away the first layer when the Shade came back and lunged at her. Eden rolled out of the way and pushed herself up onto her feet. Keeping her balance was next to impossible, but the temporary upright position gave her the leverage she needed to throw herself at the Shade and push it back to the floor. She held its arms behind its back and, while using her body to pin it down, pushed up as hard as she could. The Shade screamed in pain as its arms were ripped out of their sockets.
Eden pushed herself back and the Shade rolled to its side, struggling to get up. Its arms hung limply by its side, twisting under itself as it rolled about, causing it more pain. Eden quickly removed the tape from her legs and ankles. She ran to her duffle but the phone was gone; in the struggle the Shade had knocked it further under the sofa. There was no time to find it. Eden stepped over the Shades’ crippled body and out the door.
The sight she was greeted with was something from a horror film. Night had fallen and a ghostly mist lingered over the yard, illuminated by the lights from the house. The yard was full of half-dead hosts, glaring, seething, calling her ugly names and some phrases too slurred to understand. They were coming from out of the woods and up the drive. Eden put up her hands and summoned a wavering flame. Some of the Shades laughed at her.
“Coulson,” she thought desperately. Angry, fearful tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision. She couldn’t be stopped here. “Coulson, Coulson, Coulson—”
A woman with stringy red hair ran towards the porch, mouth open in a feral shriek. Eden forwent the flame and chose to retaliate with a wide burst of energy that ripped the flesh off the attacking Shade and those immediately after. They dropped to the ground, not entirely dead but certainly out of the fight, and the other Shades rushed her at once.

Coulson slammed on the breaks. Everyone lurched forward and Darcy, who had not buckled herself in, was flung into the floor and almost into Jane’s lap. Loki clutched to his seatbelt with a look of mild terror.
“What’s wrong?” Thor asked. Coulson looked behind him, as though he didn’t know who had spoken to him.
“I thought I heard Denny.”
Loki scoffed in lieu of a sarcastic comment. Coulson turned back to the wheel and put the car in reverse.
“Whoa, wait a minute,” Jane protested. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Going back,” Coulson said. “Denny’s in trouble.”

Notes