Shadow Prince

There he was, a man around the age of 19, driving down the highway, leaving Minnesota behind. The road stretched endlessly before him, California awaiting in the distance.

"Mark, remember to call me if you need anything, even just to talk. I want to hear from you regularly, just to make sure my baby is okay."

"Mom, I'll be fine. I promise to call or text when I get the chance. I'm not a monster," I said, one hand on the wheel and the other holding my phone to my face.

"Well, I'll let you go. Just let me know when you get to the next rest stop. And remember to eat something!" she added.

"Okay, love you. Talk to you later. Bye!" I said, hanging up before she could keep going. I love my mom, but she could talk my ears off for hours if she wanted to.

A few hours passed, and darkness settled in. I pulled up to a motel I had mapped out earlier. Guess I should eat something before my mom starts yelling at me again.

Just as I was about to head inside to get food and sleep—because God knows I needed it—I heard a weird noise coming from the side of the building.

The motel was nothing special. Two floors, about as long as a football field. The sound had come from the right side. It was late—around 11:00 p.m.—so there shouldn't be anyone out here.

I hesitated, then walked over to the edge and peeked out. Nothing. Must have been my imagination. I turned back toward the entrance.

Then I heard it again—louder this time.

Steeling myself, I stepped further down the alleyway toward the back of the motel. The faint glow of a flickering streetlight barely illuminated the area. And then I heard voices.

"I can't believe you're short on my money again!" The voice was rough and low-pitched, dripping with menace.

"I promise I'll have it tomorrow! Just… Please, give me another chance." The second voice was desperate, trembling.

"I gave you plenty of chances, and I'm tired of you not coming through. I gotta get what's owed somehow." There was a cruel amusement in the man's tone.

"W-What do you want?"

A pause.

"Let's see… how about you bring your wife to my room, and I'll have her pay the rest of what you owe me?"

"B-But she doesn't have any money right now either!"

"Who said anything about money?"

I felt my stomach twist. This guy is sick… I should do something. But I'm just one guy—

CRACK!

I barely stifled a curse as my foot knocked over a piece of plywood leaning against the building.

I froze.

Silence.

Then—footsteps.

I turned and ran.

A gunshot rang out.

Then another.

Pain shot through my body. My legs gave out. The world blurred as I collapsed to the ground. My vision darkened, swallowing me whole. Finally, I thought as I drifted off.

I didn't know what to expect after death. Pain? Nothingness?

But this… this was different.

There was no pain. No cold emptiness. Just… floating.

My thoughts began to unravel, draining out of my mind as if being pulled away by some unseen force. I couldn't even remember what I had been thinking about before.

What was happening?

No… what is happening?

The concept of time itself was slipping away.

Then—something shifted.

A cool sensation seeped into my head, alleviating the emptiness, filling me with something. A presence. A warmth.

Then came light.

A deep red glow, soft at first, then growing brighter, hotter. Like the sun rising behind my closed eyelids, trying to wake me up from a deep sleep.

Wait… I can feel again?

I tried to move. My limbs were unresponsive, weak. My breath hitched, and suddenly—I heard voices.

"He's awake!"

Wait… what?

The words were unfamiliar, foreign—yet I somehow understood them.

Panic surged through me. I tried to speak, but the only sound that came out was—

"Wahhhhh!"

My own voice startled me. It was high-pitched, unnatural—infantile.

My limbs flailed on their own, uncoordinated and feeble. Muffled voices surrounded me, urgent yet unintelligible. My heart pounded. I wanted to scream, to demand answers, but all I could do was cry.

No. No, this isn't possible.

My body felt wrong—tiny, fragile. I could barely move. I could barely think.

Am I… a newborn baby?

The realization sent a wave of dread through me.

The voices continued. Urgent. Frantic. And then—

A different noise.

Shouts. Screams. The sound of metal clashing against metal.

What… What is happening?

Forcing my weak body to obey, I struggled to open my eyes. At first, everything was a blur. My vision was hazy, unadjusted.

Slowly, things came into focus.

To my right, a torch flickered, casting wild, dancing shadows on the walls. A dark figure loomed above me, shrouded in a long cloak, his hood obscuring his face. But what was visible was his smile—twisted, devious.

He reached for me.

Then—before I could react—

He was killed.

A blade sliced through him in an instant. The hooded man collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

Another figure stood in his place, silent and deadly. He had been there the whole time, his presence almost invisible.

The man bent down and picked me up.

As he lifted me, I saw them.

The bodies.

At least ten, scattered across the bloodstained floor.

Is that… why it got so quiet?

The man who held me didn't speak. He simply stood there, gazing at the carnage around us. For a moment, I thought he might be mourning.

Then, with no warning, he turned—and ran.

The world blurred as he moved at an impossible speed, faster than I could comprehend. The wind howled around me.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

And once again, I drifted off into darkness.