Pascal wasn’t supposed to play out in the forest, and he knew it. He also knew that he wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place. There weren’t any other kids at the outpost, so he always felt out of place. If he wasn’t supposed to be in the outpost and he wasn’t supposed to be in the forest, where was he supposed to be?

  All the animals had been scared off a long time ago, so he was never in any danger. The worst that could happen was him tripping over a tree root. No danger and no other kids also meant boredom. Pascal could only throw rocks at trees so many times.

  The sun was going to set soon. Pascal’s father set a curfew for the boy, and he tried to abide by it. He was already breaking one of his father’s rules, he didn’t want to risk breaking another. At least, he didn’t until he saw a thick line in the dirt.

  It dug about half an inch into the ground. It wasn’t straight, and it bumped over every tree root. Pascal thought it could be an animal. He wasn’t really sure what they were and desperately wanted to see one. He didn’t know which way the line was heading, but he knew animals used to live in the forest, not in outposts. Pascal ventured further into the forest in search of this elusive animal.

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The cold water shocked D awake. He would have lunged forward, but his hands were caught on something. He looked around frantically, but nothing made sense. There were blurry people surrounding him and a ceiling above him. Was he back in that alien room? They were saying something, but it was all muffled and impossible to understand. One of them reached out toward him and grabbed the collar of his shirt.

  Everything slowly came into focus. The people stopped being blurry and the muffled talk became angered shouts. Accusation after accusation berated him. The man grabbing his collar was particularly enraged. “Where is Pascal, you piece of rat shit?”

  D didn’t know who Pascal was let alone where he was. The start of a confused and dazed “What?” formed on his lips before he was swiftly shut up by the angry man’s punch.

  “What did you do to my son?” He shouted. Two others around him pulled him off of D as he violently resisted.

  “Get ‘im out o’ here,” an older man commanded. “Rest o’ ya, quiet down.” The room obeyed the old man. He slowly strode over to a chair placed to D’s side and placed himself down. “I’m the foreman o’ this outpost. Ya don’ need ta know my name, and I don’ need ta know yer’s, ‘kay? All we wanna know is where the lad is. If ‘e’s alright, yer alright.”

  D found it hard to speak through his dry mouth. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t know who you’re talking about, I swear. I–” a thought occurred to D. Should he tell them of his past life? Would they believe his first moments in this world were in the hill’s fields? He thought it better to hide his past. “I woke up in the hills. I don’t remember anything, I don’t know where I am, and I don’t know who you’re talking about, I’m sorry.”

  The foreman just shook his head. “Listen, lad. I know ya ain’t tellin’ me the truth. See, ‘endrick’s boy was ‘ere when we left. We come back, ‘n’ ‘e’s gone. Poof. Disappeared inta thin air,” he leaned in closer. “‘N’, well, yer the only livin’ thing ‘round here ‘sides us lot. Where’s the lad?”

  “I swear to God,” tears of frustration filled D’s eyes. What a shit start to a life. “I haven’t seen any kid! I woke up, I walked all day to get here, and then I woke up with a dozen angry men screaming at me! What do you think happened, huh? You think I killed the kid, hid his body, and walked all the way back here to pass out as his front door so his dad and the rest of the village could knock my teeth out? What a great plan, huh?”

  The foreman leaned back and scratched his beard. The chair underneath him creaked as the large man shifted. They were all much larger and more muscular than D. He was intimidated to say the least. “Ya said ‘village.’ Why?” The foreman questioned.

  What the hell? “What do you mean? This is a village, isn’t it? Shit…” Did I get teleported somewhere new again? Did I die in that forest? “Where am I?”

  The foreman hummed in his seat for a moment. He closed his eyes and looked up toward the ceiling. “Gettin’ nowhere,” he murmured. With a shrug he got up and turned to the other men. “No choice fer now, lads. Leave ‘im tied up. If the boy’s back ‘fore tomorrow, let ‘im go.”

  The foreman and the rest of the men filed out of the building. Each one made sure the last glimpse D caught of them was a face full of contempt. D was slightly relieved. He wasn’t able to move, but at least he didn’t have to worry about a team of workers beating him half to death. The bed he laid on wasn’t the most comfortable; the workers removed everything but the frame to make sure it was as rigid as possible. Even so, D was exhausted enough that he fell back asleep in no time at all.

  While he slept, the whole outpost scoured the forest. Three men, including Pascal’s father, followed the long line in the dirt that headed into the forest. The rest each picked a different direction to search. The whole group cried out Pascal’s name again and again, but never received a response. The forest was as quiet and lifeless as ever: an unsettling observation for Hendrick to say the least.

  Hendrick’s group emerged from the forest, past the stumps, and into the area of the hills where the fresh soil patches laid. It was well into the night by the time they made it that far, and they could see the path continuing for miles into the hills ahead. Hendrick was prepared to press on without a second thought, but the other two with him advised to turn back. These moonlit hills weren’t safe. There would be no point to this excursion if they also went missing.

  It took convincing, but the boy’s father eventually agreed. Tears swelled in his eyes as he screamed out Pascal’s name into the dark hills. His voice grew hoarse and his face was a burning red before the group went back. Hendrick kept an eye out for Pascal, but the other two were preoccupied looking for something else, something they feared.

  -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  D was back in the hills. The sun beat down directly on him. How long can it be noon? The sun was caught in the middle of the sky for hours on end. Sweat beaded down his face. His skin was burning. He reached to check his phone. It was something he did often, but never for any reason. He never had any notifications. The screen flashed to life with ease. Twelve o’clock. It was exactly as D thought. Time was stuck.

  Just then, his phone buzzed. It was a message from his old friend Odododo. He had this really funny, blurry picture of him they had taken a long time ago as the contact picture. His message was short and simple. “A.M. or P.M.?” it read. Well obviously A.M., just look at the… sky…

  Two big, full moons hung above him. The hills were dark, cold, and quiet. No stars illuminated his path. There were only the giant moons in the middle of a pitch black sky. He looked back down at his phone to discover it was dead now. His eyes drifted back up and away from his phone when he spotted it.

  Maybe half a mile away, a boy was standing at the apex of a hill. He tried to cry out to the boy, but his words couldn’t escape as more than a whisper. He ran towards him, but found the ground beneath his feet was too slippery. It was like running on silk with socks on. Every step he took forward resulted in him further away from the boy.

  D watched the boy walk away effortlessly. The silky ground didn't seem to bother him. No. D couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. Don’t leave me alone. I can’t be alone again. Please.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  He forgot it all almost as soon as he woke up back on that same rigid bed frame. Only one thing stuck in his mind. Who was that boy? He scanned the room to find he wasn’t alone. In the corner of the room, that same boy stood and watched him. He was all but concealed by shadows.

  “Kid,” he could speak now. “Hey, kid. What are you doing there? Are you that kid they were looking for?”

  The boy didn’t respond. He didn’t even move.

  “Your dad’s a real asshole, you know. Go let him know you’re alive so he unties me, yeah?”

  The boy remained silent. He just watched.

  “Okay,” D’s voice wavered, “you’re freaking me out now, kid. Say something would ya? I don’t bite, promise.”

  The boy slowly raised his hand and pointed behind D.

  “What? What’s back there?” D struggled to turn his head. “I can't see, what are you pointing at?” The ropes dug into his wrists.

  The boy still would not speak.

  Despite his efforts, D never did see what was behind him. Hendrick entered the room with a bang. He aimed to rudely wake his sleeping captive with the sound of the door only to find he was already awake, and there was a shade behind him. It slowly approached D with its arms growing longer, its fingers sharper, as it came closer. Hendrick froze for only a moment before leaping into action. There was barely any time left. He unsheathed an axe from his belt and hacked at the ropes that tied down D.

  “Run!” he commanded.

  D should have run, but his curiosity got the better of him. He turned to see what behind him was so important or dangerous that the boy and Hendrick would react so strangely. It wasn’t any larger than a man, but its skin was entirely black as if it were covered in soot. Its arms stretched towards D with talons at the end trying to grab him. The only part of it that wasn’t silhouetted were the eyes: human eyes. There were no eyelids to cover them. Two round eyes peered at D with no hint of emotion.

  Now he understood, and he ran. Nothing else needed to be said. He followed Hendrick’s lead and barreled out the front door. Hendrick beckoned him to follow as they ran toward the next building over. D, barely holding the bile in his empty stomach, frantically searched his surroundings. His mind was incoherent as he tried to find others like that thing he just saw. Was it the only one, or were there more? About fifty yards to his left, he saw a small group of them. There were five, maybe six, of those wretched figures. Their eyes tracked him, but they did not move from their circular huddle.

  The door was barred after the two made their way into the next building over. The men inside seemed confused. One chuckled and spoke up, “Woah, where’s the fire, huh? Wait…” his eyes met D’s. “What’s he doin’ here?”

  “There’s shades in the outpost,” Hendrick answered. Their faces went white. “One got in the building and tried to grab him. I wasn’t thinkin’ I just grabbed him.” He glared at D. “Maybe it would’ve been better to leave him there.”

  Shit. “Wait, where’s the kid?” The whole room turned toward D. “Th-that kid that was standing in the corner. He was trying to warn me about that thing. Oh, shit,” he grabbed Hendrick’s collar, “where’s the goddamn kid?”

  Hendrick fired off another punch that made D fall to the floor. “What kind of sick joke are you playing at? My -son- goes missing, the shades are more active than ever, and you want to pretend that Pascal was standing in that room. Don’t you think I would’ve noticed that? Don’t you think I would’ve noticed my -son-?”

  “I don’t know if it was your kid, man!” D responded after spitting the blood out of his mouth. “It was a kid, I could barely even see him with how dark it was. It was just -a- kid.”

  “Pascal’s the only kid around here,” one of the men sitting towards the back of the room spoke up. “What did he look like?”

  D closed his eyes and tried to picture the boy again. He had light brown hair, pale skin, and his eyes were… What color were his eyes? He began to doubt himself. Was his hair brown, his skin pale? Was there a boy there? “I-I don’t remember,” he stammered in the end. “It was too dark. I think he had brown hair?”

  “Shit!” The same man jumped out of his seat and pointed out the window. Two eyes planted on black skin stared into the building. Its attention wasn’t directed at anyone or anything in particular. It didn’t move as everyone in the room turned to look at it.

  “What do we do, Hendrick?” Somehow he had become the de facto leader.

  “We wait here until sunrise. If it comes in,” he pointed a thumb at D, “we push Rathshit there into it. It’ll buy us some time.”

  D felt his jacket pocket. Still there. He pulled the gun out of his pocket and pointed it at the shade. “Can we kill it?” he asked while cocking the hammer. One bullet between those creepy ass eyes is all it’d take.

  “The hell is that thing, Ratshit?” To them, the six-shooter just looked like a chunk of metal with a handle. It might’ve been part of an elaborate machine or something, but it didn’t seem like any use in its current state. The grizzly workers who towered over D didn’t fear a skinny man with a shiny rock, so they left the gun where they found it.

  “Can we fucking kill it or not?” D was losing his patience. His hands were shaking as he aimed his barrel at the middle of the shade’s head. “Don’t make the only guy in the room with a gun angry.”

  Nobody was sure what he was talking about, but they could tell he was sure that strange piece of metal could kill the shades. “No,” Hendrick finally answered. “They only touch things if they want to. Whatever you hit them with passes right through. Unless that thing is magical, it won't even scratch them.”

  Okay. Ghosts: real. Magic: real. Gun: not magic. He carefully and clumsily uncocked the revolver and tucked it back in his jacket. The shade at the window still hadn’t moved. It was just staring into space. Past it, D could see the group of shades standing around in a circle. He turned to Hendrick and asked, “What’s over there? Why are those ones standing like that?”

  “What?” Hendrick was confused. “Why the hell would I know? They’re monsters, they’re probably just guarding their… prey…” Hendrick started towards the door. “Pascal…” he trailed.

  That’s when D saw him again. The boy was standing in the corner. When did he get there? The lighting was better in this room. A few candles had been lit so the men could see as they prepared for bed, and their light reached the boy. D remembered correctly that his skin was pale, but his hair was more auburn than brown. D’s focus shifted to the boy’s face. His eyes weren’t there.

  D let out a scream. Confusion sprang through the room, but Hendrick didn’t pause. He continued to the door. The boy raised his arm, pointing at the door. He shook his head back and forth. No matter how terrifying this ghost boy may have been to D, he was sure that this apparition was a friend. This is the second time he’s warned D of danger. D shouted out to Hendrick, “Stop! Pascal, what does he look like? Kind of pale, button nose, and red hair? That him?”

  That made Hendrick stop. “Thought you didn’t know who we were talkin’ about, Ratshit.” His fists clenched, and his veins popped. His skin became more and more red as he turned back toward D.

  “He’s the kid! The ghost kid you didn’t see, remember? He’s here, right now, in that corner,” D pointed. “I don’t know why you can’t see him, but he doesn’t want you to go out that door.”

  “I don’t have any reason to believe you,” Hendrick retorted, pointing out towards the group of shades. “If there is even the smallest chance that my son is right there and I didn’t do anything to help him, I couldn’t live with myself.”

  “Okay, okay,” D pleaded, “let’s say you open the door and Pascal -is- in the middle of that circle, what do you do then? You just said they can’t be touched unwillingly. You’re just going to get yourself killed by them, and then Pascal won’t have a father to come home to. Let’s just think for a second first. They can only be killed by magic, right? There’s nothing magical in this village?”

  The room gave him a look that made him feel more moronic than ever before. Magic: real but uncommon, I guess. That’s when it hit him. Uncommon. He certainly couldn’t think of a better word to describe what he was thinking about. “Shit, that sword I had. Where is it?”

  “That thing?” The man in the back with a big beard recognized what he was talking about. “Right where we found ya. None of us could lift the thing. Don’t know how a skinny thing like you was carrying that around.”

  “I don’t either, but where is it? I don’t remember where I passed out.”

  The bearded man thought for a second. “Oh…” an odd realization came to him. “Right over there.” His calloused hand pointed dead ahead, right at the circle of shades. “Why would they want that thing?”