The shadow of the past

Pt. 1 - Eyes of the Moon | Next Part

There we go with the part one! There's not much of whump here, so you can consider this a bit of a prologue) Also, I'm not a native speaker and I don't have a beta reader, please forgive any mistakes!

• • •

Nervill considered his life boring.

He just recently moved into this apartment, barely two weeks have passed. It was in good condition and newly renovated, and he got it for a surprisingly low price. They didn't say why, but he didn't ask. He is a good man, who can receive a gift well.

His work was also relatively close, so there shouldn’t be any problems with transport, but... let’s get back to his problem - Nervill is lonely to his very soul.

Previously, he thought that this would not be a problem, that he would always be busy with work and would be too tired to worry about such things, but... Every day the emptiness of the apartment was felt more and more strongly, to such an extent that Nervill was already beginning to imagine shadows moving where they shouldn't and whispers where there should be heavenly silence.

This was starting to make him nervous.

Maybe it was still worth getting a roommate?

Or at least a dog?

In order to distract himself at least a little from the obsessive fears that were constantly trying to cling to his thoughts and remain hanging there, he decided to re-read his favorite novel.

Novels have always been a kind of buoy for him, so as not to drown in the sea of ​​​​huge and empty nothingness - his eternal companion.

This is how this book brought him to the present.

Nervill sat in his chair in the bedroom, the lamp stood on a small round table nearby, and he was immersed in the adventurous journey of the two heroes of his novel and the longing that he would never have something like this, when there was a whisper, a slight rustle and a barely noticeable change in the density of the air forced him to open his mind again.

He tensely clenched the book in his hands and looked up.

His bedroom was barely lit by the pale moonlight of the evening, slightly fueled by the diffused light of the lamp, but there was nothing. There was no one.

Everything became quiet again.

The air has melted.

Nervill didn't ease his worry.

He didn't know who or what it was, what this subtle change in atmosphere was, but it felt so real... a presence. And something told him that he shouldn’t ignore it. On the other hand, he could barely think, it was 1am.

So, he closes his book and sat tensely in the chair, looking around with scanning eyes in order to notice any movement, heightened his senses in order to feel any change in the space of his room.

Then he heard it.

"Hello?"

A barely audible whisper, barely a wave of sound touching him, but it was there.

Nervill jerked his head towards the voice, trying to catch the speaker with his eyes, to grab onto this discovery. He felt no fear, which was strange. Just an anxiety.

"Hello..?" — he tried in response.

Silence.

Then, slowly and smoothly, as if gathering pieces from all the surrounding energy, a shadow began to form on the wall - a faded, short figure with disheveled hair began to emerge on the wall, forming a silhouette. All of it, completely, was dark and without outlines inside the silhouette - like a real shadow, except perhaps without the one who casts it.

Two white eyes flashed on its face.

Nervill shuddered and recoiled in his chair, looking at the creature with wide eyes.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you...” — another quiet whisper, as if it was afraid of disturbing someone. Shadow narrowed its eyes slightly in a somewhat regretful manner.

This confused the guy even more, though it involuntarily forced him to relax his guard. There was a kind of security in the air from the creature, though, rather... no, not security. There was an air of sadness and melancholy from it, a kind of shyness, but also kindness. It was everything but a threat. He felt himself drawn to the creature, despite the surreal nature of the situation.

Not believing himself, he puts the book down on the table and leans over the edge of his chair, looking intently at the shadow. It didn't move, watching him in response with luminous and large, like two moons, eyes.

The two silently studied each other for several seconds before Nervill finally raised his voice, breaking the silence that hung between them, which had already become familiar to this apartment.

“So... I've gone crazy,” he said, leaning back in his chair again and raising his eyes to the ceiling in exhaustion. He didn't think he was so lonely. So much so that he began to see shy shadow boys. But it all felt too vivid, too real - did it really get into his head so deeply that it led to hallucinations?

Nervill rejected the idea of this could be real - this is simply impossible, not in their world of science and progress, he cannot just... just communicate with a living shadow, damn him.

His hallucination, meanwhile, seemed upset by his imprisonment, and crawled up the wall - straight to the ceiling, in order to meet his gaze again, looking down at him.

“You’re not crazy. I’m real, if that bothers you,” — the shadow rustled still quietly, its eyes looking at him pleadingly. And wasn't it funny how he wanted to believe it? How did he want it to be true? At least not because he wanted to trust in his own sanity, but simply to finally find a friend? The prospect of being friends with the shadow, of course, sounded dubious, but did he have other options? Moreover, it even seemed cute... no, no, he should stop thinking about it, otherwise he will finally put himself in a straitjacket somewhere in a building with yellow walls.

Nervill looked away from the two eyes staring at him from the ceiling, feeling as if he had just kicked a puppy, and stood up from his chair. It was late in the evening and he still needed to get some sleep before the work week started. And indulging his sleepy mind will not help this.

Trying not to pay attention to the little sad sigh of the shadow that he left behind him, Nervill lay down in bed.

• • •

The night passed without dreams, only memories of darkness haunted Nervill upon returning to the waking world.

Nervill opened his eyes and was greeted by the familiar emptiness and silence of his apartment.

Perhaps it was just a dream?

He didn't know whether he was happy or not.

Stretching and rising in bed with a groan, he again carefully looked around the bedroom, illuminated by the soft morning light and turning it into one large golden cave in which he slept, read, and wallowed in self-pity. Turning his head towards the curtains, his eye caught the edge of a book. It was lying on the table, in the same place and in the same way as he left it yesterday, wanting to quickly hide from his own failing mind.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes with his hands. The emptiness seemed even more palpable now, when there was no-

"Good morning"

Nervill shuddered and almost fell out of bed at the familiar quiet whisper sounding so loudly in the quiet apartment.

He looked up and stared at the two moons looking down at him. Deja vu.

"What the hell..." he whispered in disbelief as the shadow descended, now appearing on the wall behind him, just behind the head of the bed. The two moons were still watching him with a kind of childish curiosity. Oh damn, now looking into that featureless face up close, feeling the coldness emanating from it that had nothing to do with the bright intentions wafting from the shadow, as if it were an open book, he just thought, how could he have gotten away from this so easily yesterday?

He sighed once again and ran his hand through his tangled fair hair, without taking his eyes off the shadow.

"So... Either I'm so fucked up that I've given myself a permanent hallucination, or you're... real." — he muttered thoughtfully, looking at the shadow. It perked up at his last words and nodded (at least he could tell from the way its curls were bouncing) before smiling and- since when did it have a smile?

"Real, a truly real one!" It said, its voice a little louder with impatience, “So you believe me now?” It bowed its head, maintaining a small smile on its dark face.

He shrugged, not believing himself because he had begun to doubt the falsity of his own mind games after only two meetings and a few words with shade, a small smile touching his lips. The same positive energy seemed to radiate from the shadow, feeding this image of a curious bunny with large trusting eyes and, although the outlines of the figure were simple and uncomplicated, they said so much, more than any person could tell with just body language.

But, through the layers of it, he could still feel anxiety and unresolved fear somewhere deep within it, and could he be making it up? Invent his own feelings, create with his imagination the atmosphere hovering around this shadow?

"Yes, yes... I suppose so."

He quickly changed his mind, however, and even he himself didn't fully understand why, though... it couldn’t have been any other way, he thought. When the haze of drowsiness and melancholy that he had so carefully tried to eclipse with his novel didn't envelop his mind as it had yesterday, he could feel it all more clearly, as if everything was pushing him towards something that he didn't believe in, but perhaps hoped for... And yet, perhaps the world of progress could not explain everything.

Meanwhile, the shadow smiled even wider - and wasn’t his smile so charming?

"Thank you! I... really didn't think anyone would finally notice me." — whispered the shadow with a certain note of melancholy in its quiet, even voice, the only sign that something more was actually hidden behind it. The words sounded familiar to Nervill's ears, as if an echo of his own thoughts were speaking directly to him. Perhaps he, after all, found himself a roommate.

Several seconds passed in silence, except for the barely audible trembling of the air that indicated that the shadow was moving, although Nervill didn't look at it. He looked ahead, wondering if his life would change.

But all this, in any case, could be postponed until later, because it’s 8am, and he hasn’t gotten out of bed yet-

As if he had just woken up, Nervill's eyes widened and he jumped out of bed, not paying attention to the surprised sound of the shadow, and hurriedly went to the kitchen, hoping to have breakfast in time.

A shadow was creeping behind him, which he could tell by its rustling.

It was very convenient, in fact, that it made so many sounds, albeit quiet ones - Nervill could always tell what it was doing or where it was - an open book. He had barely known this shadow for a five minutes, but he had already begun to think that it had always been here, because those fleeting tremors of the shadows of his furniture, the short flash of white eyes - he had either really gone bananas that much, or this shadow had always been here, and he attributed all these phenomena to his own lack of sanity.

He still had a lot to learn about this shadow, this he knew for sure - how long had it been here, had it always been here? Was it even human and... and everything else, but right now his priority was not getting scolded by his boss, and the shadow, if it was really real, could wait a bit, right?