Work Text:
The two gulls circle one another, crying loudly before racing out over the trees. John sat up to watch the two birds disappear. The cry of the birds had been strange. He could not exactly explain why. He looked around the field; it had been alive with birds and insects just a short time ago. Now it was silent. The sun had disappeared behind a cloud that had appeared in a cloudless sky. John shivered. The field had changed, it seemed sinister. He stood up, undecided about what he should do. The cottage, he had no greater desire than to reach the cottage. The stand of trees between the field and the cottage had also changed. No sun light streamed through the trees, no birds sang from the branches, no frogs croaked from the stream. It was dark and silent. Deathly silent. Strange shapes seemed to flit from tree to tree. Fear crawled up John’s spine. He turned and started to walk towards the road. If he walked along it a little way he would reach the beach and he could walk along it to the cottage, avoiding the trees.
The murmur in the air made John look back. The shapes in the trees looked more human now. The grass between him and the trees bent as if a wind was moving through them but he felt no wind. The grass between him and the road remained still. Dead still. He continued on, faster now, panic gnawing to his heels. He glanced back again and stopped.
The trees were empty and still. Sunshine was filtering through the leaves. It remained silent. The field was still in shadow though the grass was now still. He had the unnerving feeling that he was being watched, that he was not alone in the field. He looked towards his right and saw nothing. He glanced back towards the trees and felt his head swim. The man was only a few yards away where, a moment ago, there had been nothing but grass. He took a step backward and spun around. To his left there was another, to his right another. They were appearing everywhere.
In a blind panic John ran towards the road. They came closer, yet none seemed to be moving. He ran faster. A hand brushed his jacket, another his arm. Their gray skin was cold to the touch. Their black fingernails dug into his skin. He swung his arms to free himself. Half dozen grey hands clamped onto his arms and jerked him down. He thrashed about, knocking over the grey shadows. He scrambled to his feet, but was tripped by more hands. He kicked out with all his strength and tried to crawl away. A blow to the back of his neck dazed him but he refused to go down. He had reached the shoulder of the road. Another blow to the neck sent him crashing to the gravel of the road bed.
John rolled over and stared into a face the color of a shadow. Its eyes were red and its teeth black. He tried to pull away but he was surrounded by a dozen of other shadow people. One grabbed his hand smeared with blood from where it had been cut by the stones and glass of the shoulder of the road and put it up to its mouth. It began licking and sucking the blood from his hand. In terror John jerked his hand away from the creature. Another grabbed his wrist and scratched at it with its black fingernails until it bled. It then lowered its lips to the wound and began drinking his blood. John screamed in terror. An ice cold hand clamped over his mouth and nose cutting off the scream and the flow of oxygen to his lungs. He could no longer move; his body was racked with pain. Black dots swirled in front of his eyes and his blood roared in his ears. He sank into unconsciousness.
John jerked away from a hand on his shoulder. With a cry of terror, he tried to get to his hands and knees and crawl away. The hand restrained him.
“Take it easy! You’ll just hurt yourself more.”
John opened his eyes. A young woman with flame red hair and green eyes was kneeling over him. He blinked and looked around. The sun was shining in a cloudless sky. Birds were singing in the trees and flying over the field. Insects buzzed in the grass. A gentle breeze blew in from the sea. He sat up.
“Hey, take it easy. You look like you were pretty messed up. What happened?” John stared at the woman. She smiled; her teeth were white and small. “My name is Saba, I almost hit you. You were lying in the road. Do you remember what happened to you?”
John looked around, in a daze. “The shadow people, “he murmured.
“What?” Saba asked.
John looked up at her. “The shadow people,” he repeated.
“What shadow people?” John did not answer; he just stared blankly at the field. Saba sighed and stood up. She took his arm. “Can you stand up? I’ll take you into town, to a doctor.”
John stood up. He felt light headed and dizzy. Black dots swirled before his eyes. Saba held him.
“Here, lean against me. Once we get you in to the truck you’ll feel better,” she told him leading him to a white pickup truck parked nearby. She helped him into the seat. John slumped down, his head resting on the back of the seat. Saba climbed in on the driver’s side and started the engine. She shifted into drive and pulled away. John glanced out the window towards the field. His panic left him. He felt tired and numb. Saba talked.
“You’re lucky I came along. Not very many people come out to the west end. You may have lain there a long time.” She glanced over at him, “You’re the one who rented the cottage out at the cove, aren’t you? What’s your name?” John continued to stare blankly out of the window. The drove in silence for a while. Saba turned into a small secluded dirt road leading off into the trees. She turned off the engine and faced him. He slowly focused his attention on her.
“Do you know why people don’t often come out to the west end?” John didn’t answer, he was scared and confused. Saba looked out the window to the surrounding tress. “It’s because of us,” she continued, “They know we cannot leave the trees. That’s why there are no trees on the east end.”
John felt the panic again. He stared at Saba’s fingernails. They seemed to be growing darker. She turned back to him. He pressed back against the door. She smiled and her teeth were long and black. The white of her eyes were the color of blood.
“I’m so glad you decided to stay on the west end. We haven’t had any fresh blood in such a long time.”
John threw himself against the door, fumbling for the door handle. An ice cold hand gripped his neck. He screamed and swung his arm with all his strength against the window. Ice cold claws burned into his neck. Sticky warmth ran down his neck. He blindly pried at the claws, they just dug deeper. He threw himself against the door again. The claws let go. His numb hands grasped the door handle, jerking it open. The claws dug into his shoulders immobilizing him. Burning red hair, smelling of the grave, brushed against his cheek. Unable to fight any more, he felt the blood draining from him. He stared through the window into the overcast sky. Before his world faded away he saw that the shadow people had returned.