Shadows and Demons
Welcome to a day in the life of a paranormal adventurer…
I had a rough night filled with dark dreams that evaporated seconds after I woke. My whole morning has been spent in a bit of a fog, with a feeling of uneasiness as I went through my pre-work ritual, preparing for another day at the office.
As I left the house I noticed a dark shape beside my van. An ominous shadow, it’s shape and size conforming to that of a man, hovered by the driver’s side rear door. It stepped away, silently, passing around my wife’s car and into the side yard only to disappear into the black.
On edge, I made the drive across the rural country highway from Converse to Sweetser and parked in front of Clarence Ragan’s Backburner Press building as I do every workday morning. His black cat sat idly in the storefront window, watching me as it does most mornings, but I was drawn to the sound of footsteps and whispers on Main Street.
There, framed against the old Sweetser Gymnasium, was my friend, the Shadow. It moved along the building, slowly walking past the Comteck entrance and turning up the side alley.
The Shadow was gone, dispersed as so much effluvium on the chill air of Thursday’s broken promise. The whispers fell silent. And I was left to ponder what had happened and what to make of this strange day’s beginning.
I set myself to the task at hand. Unlocking doors, turning on lights, switching over the phone system, and firing up my PC. After a quick round of paperwork and a few innocuous phone calls, I turned to my breakfast of cheese and boiled eggs. I bit into the first egg and spat. The yellow yoke was runny and mixed with blood.
I felt chilled and nervous, but this in turn passed. I threw my breakfast into the wastebasket and sat staring at my computer screen, not really seeing it, but looking through it and into the distant reminder of investigations past.
Hell of a way to start my day, but now… a feeling of normalcy has descended and I’m left chewing on what I experienced.
A day in the life of a paranormal adventurer? Not a normal one, to be sure. But it’s left me with questions. I love a good mystery and now it seems that the game is afoot.
If nothing else, I’ve fodder for my next story, one that’s taking shape in the dusty attic of my imaginative temple even now…