The Shadow

"I... I have to protect..." The mother whispered as she squeezed her baby. "My child..."

The baby's face was red from crying, and he stuck his lip out. "Mama," he said. It was the only word he knew.

The mother pressed her back against the wall, her breathing harsh and heavy. As she patted her baby's back, she tried to imagine what life would be like without her precious child. She willed him to be quiet.

The baby said it again. Louder, this time. "Mama!"

"Shh, my darling," the mother whispered.

The baby's eyes were round as he pressed his head against his mother's chest.

The mother's breath caught in her throat as she saw it. The Shadow. She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. 'It's not there,' she thought. 'It can't be there...' She ran her fingers through her baby's silky hair.

"Oh," the Shadow said. "How darling. A mother, desperately trying to save her baby." The Shadow clucked it's tongue. "That is so sad," it said mockingly. "Well, I guess-"

"Get away from us," the mother said, her voice shaky but firm. "Leave us be!"

"Oh, but that's not possible, my dear," the Shadow crooned. "Because, you see, you're here to save your husband, aren't you?" The Shadow laughed. "Princess saving knight, eh? Well, tell me, my love. Why did you take the baby with you? Mmm?"

The mother's eyes filled with tears. "I... I thought..." She whispered, kissing her baby's head.

"Yes, what did you think?" The Shadow urged her. "I beg you to tell me. This is quite interesting, really."

"I thought... I could get him to a safe place. My baby," the mother croaked. "I..." She stopped, for if she continued talking, she would cry.

"That's so... Tragic," the Shadow murmured. "So tragic, my darling. I almost feel sorry for you... Oh, who am I kidding?" The Shadow laughed coldly. "I'll kill you, now. And your baby, If I don't, you'll just cause more trouble than I need, at the moment."

"No, please!" The mother wailed. "Take me. Not my baby! Not. My. Baby!"

The Shadow shook it's head. "Can't be done, I believe. So sorry. I must not spare unneeded... Things. So. You'll have to come with me. The baby, too."

The mother's eyes widened, and a tear trickled down her cheek. "No," she said stubbornly.

The Shadow's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Oh, what do we have here? I haven't had such an... Unwilling customer for a while now."

The mother choked on a sob, and dropped to her knees. "I won't let you take my baby," she rasped. "I can't."

The Shadow raised an eyebrow. It lunged towards the woman, who had her arms locked around her baby. The Shadow grabbed the baby, and for a moment the mother caught the Shadow's gaze. She tugged on her child.

"Go away," she said. Tug. "Get away from us!" Tug. "LEAVE. US. BE!"

The Shadow's eyes flickered. "No." It pulled on the child, and pried him from his mother's arms. The baby let out a long wail, and flailed in the Shadow's arms.

The mother stumbled to her feet, tears streaming down her face. "Why are you doing this to us?" She screamed. "What do you want with my husband?"

"Oh, you know perfectly well what I want with your husband," the Shadow said softly. "I want to use him." It's eyes glittered coldly. "He, sweetheart, is the answer to everything." The Shadow stroked the baby's wet cheek. "He is the key."

The mother didn't say anything. She sucked in a breath and stumbled forward, reaching out towards her child. "My baby..." She croaked.

"You know what I'll do?" The Shadow cooed. "I'll spare your life for just a bit longer. And this brat's, too. I think you want to see your husband, yes?"

The mother, her eyes wide, looked at her feet. "Um..."

"Of course you do," the Shadow said, it's cold eyes glittering. "Come with me, my dear woman, and you'll see what has become of him." The Shadow grabbed the woman's arm, and yanked her forward.

They walked down the bright white halls in silence, except for when the baby would let out a feeble cry, and the mother would hold back sobs and wails.

Finally, after what seemed hours (although it could have just been minutes), they arrived at a grimy room.

The mother shuddered. Most of the Shadow's building had been clean, perfect, free of any sort of dust or dirt. Most of the Shadow's building had an essence of perfectness to it, something that made your skin crawl with unease.

Different. This was different.

The mother could hear agonized screams bouncing off the walls of the room, the gushing of something thick that sounded like blood.

This didn't make your skin crawl with unease. It made you want to curl up in a ball and slowly starve to death, to plunge a knife into your throat, anything, anything, to stop the screams.

"He's not in there," the mother said, shakily. "He can't be." She was aware of hot tears streaming down her face, but didn't bother to wipe them away.

The Shadow curled a hand around the woman's arm. "Think again," it breathed into her ear.

The mother jerked away from it, and let out a scream. "I hate you! I hate all of you, every one of you, GIVE ME BACK MY BABY!" She flailed her fists at the Shadow, but it just raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, but my dear," the Shadow protested, "you haven't seen your husband yet."

"I've... I've seen enough!" The mother sobbed. "Get me away from here!"

The Shadow's tongue flicked over it's lips. "Stubborn, are we? Well, well. Come on, then." He grabbed the mother's arm again, flung open the door to the room, and pushed her in.

The mother's breath caught in her throat when she saw the scene in front of her. "No," she gasped. "No, no." Tears blurred her vision, and she dropped to her knees. "No, no..."

"A wonderful sight, isn't it?" Came the Shadow smooth voice. "I have worked hard to create a system like this, my darling. And it is all thanks to your husband. See him over there? The one with the toddler?"

The mother forced herself to look up. Her husband was digging a knife into the child's chest, and blood spurted from the wound onto the floor. It was everywhere. Soldiers were plunging knives into people's chests, and blood splattered the floor.

"Do you want to know what they are doing?" The Shadow asked calmly, almost cheerfully, as if this were all a game.

"No," the mother whispered. The stench of blood was making her feel dizzy, and she rested her head in her hands.

"They," the Shadow said, ignoring the mother's feeble protests, "are digging out their souls."

"What?" The mother rasped. "How-?" She stopped. "My husband would never do this," she said.

"Of course your husband would never do that," the Shadow said. "No human, my dear, would ever do that. So," he said, "I yanked his soul from him. Quite stubborn, that husband of yours. A bit like you, I must say."

"Why... How..." The mother's mind was spinning with questions, none of which she wanted answers to. "Get me out of here," she whimpered.

The Shadow ignored her. "Well, my darling, humans with souls are quite... Vulnerable creatures. Most of them would refuse to kill someone, or torture someone, which creates a problem for me, you see." The Shadow folded his fingers together. "Look around you, at the people who are stabbing others, and snatching their souls. Look closely. At their eyes. What do you see?"

The mother forced her gaze to her husband. "He used to have green eyes," she whispered to herself. But now, in place of his green eyes, were empty, black pits, with not even a flicker of feeling in them. The mother turned away, choking on sobs.

"Right," the Shadow cooed. "Black pits. No souls to light them up. Unfeeling eyes only see murder and torture, which would make the perfect army, wouldn't you say?" The Shadow stroked the mother's hair as it talked, and the mother yanked it away from it.

"Army?" The mother murmured. "What do you mean?"

"An army of soulless human beings," the Shadow said. "Yes, it is just too perfect. No souls, no empathy. I keep their souls in jars, you see, because souls can never be destroyed altogether. Too bad, really." The Shadow stroked it's chin thoughtfully.

"An army?" The mother demanded. "Why?"

"Revenge, that's why." The Shadow's black pits for eyes narrowed. "The humans exiled me, they made me... This. And now, my dear, with an army, I can show them how it feels." A smirk curled on the Shadow's lips. "Although, without souls, they may find it quite... Unfeeling. Your husband was my first successful "guinea pig", you could say, my test subject. I owe it all to him, really."

"No," the mother choked.

"Yes," the Shadow said. "Although, they aren't really humans anymore, are that? No, humans without souls are merely echoes of humans, shells of them. So..." The Shadow's lips curled into a cruel smile. "I guess you could call them shadows."