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The first time Duncan saw him, it was on the bus. He looked normal, unassuming, seemingly staring off into space. Yet somehow, this man gave him the chills. Despite looking like everyone else, something about the man disturbed Duncan in such a deep and primal way that it had made him get off the bus two stops early.
But now he couldn’t shake off that weird feeling, not even three weeks later. He’d see shadows in his dreams, vaguely similar to the mysterious man, but never his face. He hadn’t been able to reform the man’s face in his mind since the day he saw him, either, like his brain hated him so much that it was trying to erase him from Duncan’s memory.
Perhaps, Duncan thought, his miserable situation was getting to him. A boring work life and very little social interaction left him in a place where every day seemed to suck a little more of the light out of his eyes. He had a grand total of three friends, and they were the only thing keeping him sane these days.
He sighed, staring out the window of his cozy little apartment. The glass fogged slightly under his heavy breath, and then it slowly began to fade. No one in the group chat had asked about going out tonight, so he figured he was just going to spend another night with the television on in the background while he took care of bills and other personal affairs.
But when the glass cleared, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Him. The strange man from the bus. He was right there, standing at the bus stop across the street! Even though Duncan had been unable to recall the man’s face, he just knew that it was him. He was dressed in a black trench coat and dress pants, a briefcase in one hand as if he was leaving for work. It would’ve looked totally normal if it wasn’t seven in the evening, Duncan thought.
Similarly to how he had felt when he saw the man on the bus three weeks prior, Duncan shivered, the temperature of the room seeming to drop as a chill ran down his spine. He couldn’t bear to look anymore, so he turned away. He felt better almost as soon as his gaze was no longer fixed on the strange man, so he turned back around. But the man was gone.
And Duncan hadn’t even heard the bus pull up.
Deciding this probably meant he needed to step back and actually make himself dinner, he left his spot in front of the window and headed off to the kitchen. As he rummaged around the kitchen for something he felt like eating, he realized that he had already forgotten the face of the man again. He drew back from the cabinet he had been searching through and frowned. He was so good at remembering faces, but not this man’s face.
His phone buzzed from its spot on the counter, distracting him from his frustrations in failing to recall the man’s face. The screen had lit up, displaying a text from one of his friends.
Hey man, Jamala and Dami want to go to the karaoke bar. Wanna tag along?
Duncan smiled a little bit at the text. Of course they did. That’s what they did all the time. The girls usually didn’t invite him and Mahmood out there, even though it seemed like such an easy idea for a Friday night out. All of them enjoyed a good round of karaoke. It also meant hot food, more specifically, hot food that Duncan didn’t have to make by himself. He hadn’t burned through his budget for fun expenses yet, so he texted back with a quick Of course before shutting the cabinet door and grabbing his stuff. When it came to Mahmood, getting texts like this almost always meant it was happening very soon, so he wasted no time in making sure he was all freshened up before leaving.
Upon leaving the apartment, Duncan was met by a blast of cool air and the sight of Dami smiling and waving at him from across the street. He couldn’t help but smile back as he trotted down the stairs and across the street to give her a hug. Her smiles were always so infectious.
“So, it’s been a couple weeks since we’ve seen each other, yeah?” She asked, her voice a little more bubbly than usual. “You’re usually not this quiet in the group chat.” She almost immediately started off down the sidewalk, Duncan having to speed up to get in stride with her. The karaoke bar was only a kilometer or so away, so it was a fairly easy walk. They would likely meet up with Mahmood and Jamala there, as they lived further away and had to take the bus.
Duncan shrugged. “I’ve been swamped with work. Being an actuary is harder than I thought. Boring, too. It feels more like doing math homework than being at an actual job. At least I’m paid well.”
Dami seemed placated by his explanation, so they continued to walk, idly chatting as she filled him in on her past few weeks. It was a cool, breezy evening, the mostly clear sky dotted with the occasional cloud. The sun was setting, coloring the sky an array of beautiful purples and oranges while the street lights began to flicker on and businesses turned on their outdoor lighting.
But Duncan was distracted again, quickly slipping into silence as his mind tuned out his friend’s voice. He could only think about the mysterious man who had seemingly vanished at the bus stop the moment he looked away. His brow furrowed as he was once again unable to recall his face. All he had were the clothes and a rough height. In his mind, the figure seemed to have no head at all. He ran his fingers through his hair and huffed, probably too aggressively, as it attracted Dami’s attention.
“Hey.” Dami poked his shoulder. “You good? You seem troubled.” She looked concerned yet comforting at the same time.
Duncan had no idea how he was supposed to explain that he had seen a guy that gave him the heebie-jeebies a grand total of two times and have it sound like anything other than him going insane. He shrugged, the two of them beginning to cross the street in front of the bar. “Oh, everything’s fine. Don’t worry at all.”
“Ah.” Dami seemed unconvinced. “Just wanted to see if there was something you wanted to ta—DUNCAN!”
There was a loud screeching of tires and everything was suddenly silent, save for the quiet hum of a car engine. Dami was still beside him, eyes the size of saucers as the color had drained from her face. Something felt hot against his skin. Turning to his other side, Duncan followed his friend’s gaze.
A car. Right in front of his face. A white minivan had apparently careened around the corner only to come to a dead stop right in front of him. The driver was slumped against the steering wheel, likely unconscious. The vehicle had stopped only a few centimeters from him, seemingly having lost all momentum in an instant. He looked away, back at the bar, where the sun cast long shadows against the bar.
Was it just him, or did his shadow look different? Dami’s shadow looked like a long version of herself, but his… it looked broader, bigger. More imposing, even. He felt a familiar chill rush through his body, almost exactly like the one he felt when he had seen the strange man standing at the bus stop earlier.
Did this somehow have to do with him?
He shut his eyes and took a deep breath to center himself. Someone called his name, but it felt faint. He didn’t open his eyes until he felt Dami grab his hand and pull him the rest of the way across the street. Sure enough, his shadow looked just fine.
Jamala and Mahmood were there in front of the karaoke bar, both of them looking just as shocked as Dami had a few moments ago.
“Shit, Duncan, are you alright?” Mahmood asked, eyeing the vehicle that was still stopped in the middle of the road. He could hear the sound of cop cars in the distance, a bystander had likely called the emergency number either for his own well-being or for that of the unconscious driver.
Duncan looked back at the minivan. It hadn’t moved from its place at all. “I… I’m a little shaken, that’s all.” His voice was surprisingly steady for someone who had almost gotten hit by a car.
The sound of sirens grew louder, and a pair of cop cars pulled up. Both officers seemed more interested in checking out the minivan and its driver than checking in with Duncan and Dami, so Duncan turned back around to face his friends.
“Want to speak with the cops, or do you want to go in?” Jamala asked. “We came out when we saw the car come around the corner, we already got a booth inside with a good view of the stage.”
They deliberated for a moment before deciding to go inside. Duncan figured that if the cops wanted to talk to him or Dami, they could come inside to find them. For now, he wanted a night where he could actually enjoy himself, without any thoughts of that strange man.
The bar itself was abuzz with chatter and song. Even for a Friday night, it was pretty crowded. The bar area was totally full, and most of the booths were completely packed. Duncan and the others slid into the empty booth Jamala pointed out, drink and snack menus already laid out for them. There was a small group of drunk people seemingly cheering on one of their equally drunk friends as he slurred his way through the world’s most inebriated cover of My Heart Will Go On .
Duncan had been to this bar a couple times before, but it was mostly with people he knew from work. He had been here with his actual friends only once before, when they were doing some special holiday sale where the drinks were stupidly cheap. All of them had gotten absolutely hammered, with the exception of Dami. She wasn’t a huge drinker, preferring to take care of the others when they ended up having a bit too much fun. Despite the headache Duncan had to deal with the following morning, he remembered it pretty fondly. Seeing Jamala drunk was not something he had expected to see that night, either. Everyone knew that she could hold her alcohol really well.
After ordering their drinks and an appetizer for the table, Jamala was the first to leave the booth and go to the stage for karaoke. After speaking to the man with the equipment, she took the stage, beginning to sing a song Duncan didn’t recognize. It was in her native tongue, but that was all he could tell. The other two in the booth were watching as well, with Mahmood leaning over so he could see without Duncan’s head in the way.
About three and a half minutes later, Jamala descended the stage to great applause. She was practically glowing as she skipped back to her seat, a big smile on her face. The drinks and appetizer were delivered shortly afterwards, and she took a sip of her water before following it up with some of whatever fruity cocktail she had ordered. “That one is one of my favorites.” She proclaimed, her smile still present.
“Are you talking about the song or the drink?” Mahmood asked, clearly already knowing the answer. Jamala rolled her eyes. “The song, idiot.” She proceeded to name it, saying something in Ukrainian that nobody else at the table but her would be able to pronounce correctly. “But this drink is pretty good, too. Want a taste?”
Mahmood scoffed. “Show-off.” Despite his tone, he accepted Jamala’s offer, taking a small sip of her cocktail and nodding approvingly. “I assume the drink has a name I can pronounce?”
“Yes, it’s the Cherry Bomb.” Jamala took her drink back, but not before taking a swig of whatever craft beer Mahmood had ordered. “Oh, that’s good stuff.”
Duncan looked over at Mahmood’s drink. “You’re lucky that I don’t share your tastes in beer.” He took a leisurely sip of his aperol spritz, eyes focusing back on the stage. “So, which of us is gonna go on next?” He asked. It had been empty for a few minutes, which surprised him. Based on the stories Jamala and Dami told, the stage usually had a long queue of people waiting for their turn, especially on Fridays.
But any response from the others was soon ignored by him as a familiar figure walked over and spoke with the man running the karaoke. It was the mystery guy again, but in different, more casual clothes. But despite the dimly-lit atmosphere of the bar, Duncan could see something off about the man.
Or rather, it had to do with the man’s shadow. Not only was it easily visible despite the bar’s dim lighting, but it was very, very dark and generally scary-looking. It looked strangely similar to how Duncan’s shadow had looked when he had almost been hit by that car. At least he was able to remember the shape of his shadow then, considering he could never recall the face of the strange man whenever he looked away.
“You look stiff. What’s going on?” Mahmood poked Duncan in the ribs, causing him to wheeze. He shot his friend a glare. Poking Duncan where he was ticklish wasn’t something you were supposed to do, after all. Mahmood raised his hands, looking sheepish. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have poked you in the ribs, but my question still stands. You look worried.”
Duncan looked back over at the mystery man, who was now on the stage with a microphone in hand. He was almost afraid to hear the man sing, as if he was going to sing a curse onto him. He could feel that same chilly sensation again, that deeply-rooted disturbing feeling screaming at him to get out of the bar. But he couldn’t weird out his friends, could he?
“I don’t know.” He finally said. “Something about the guy on stage feels off.” Mahmood leaned forward to get a better view of the guy. He had started singing now, it was some high-energy English-language song that sounded weirdly familiar to Duncan, even though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. But the most surprising thing to him was just how good of a singer he was. Duncan and the others all exchanged glances, and then looked back at the man on stage.
The man’s shadow was still present despite the brighter lighting on stage, and it was as dark as ever. It almost seemed to suck up all the light aimed at it, leaving a person-shaped void behind him that moved as he did.
But none of Duncan’s friends seemed to neither notice nor care about it at all. Jamala seemed entranced, Dami was singing along, and Mahmood was bobbing his head along to the music. Duncan couldn’t get himself to groove. He was beginning to feel a weird sense of dread overcoming him, likely because he hadn’t tried to get away from the guy. He just sat stiffly, not caring that Mahmood hadn’t even bothered to respond to him after he mentioned he thought the man was strange.
Everyone erupted into applause when he finished, but Duncan barely heard it. The shadow had seemingly detached from the man’s body and had moved off-stage, blending into a darker area so Duncan lost track of it. Shortly afterward, there was a loud, sudden crash coming from the general direction the shadow had gone, followed by shouting. The now shadowless man trotted off stage, seemingly uncaring of the chaos breaking out on the other side of the establishment.
Someone’s voice carried through the bar. “Oh my God, is he dead?”
That was all Duncan needed to run off to the restroom. He had never been one for things like that. He felt sick and needed a moment away from the chaos.
Sure enough, the restroom was much cooler and quieter than the crowded bar. He leaned back against the cold tile walls, gazing at the ceiling. It was that man. He had to have killed the guy! Or was it his shadow? What was up with that? The whole thing was confusing, mostly because none of it made any sort of logical sense. He took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself down before splashing his face with some water from the sink. He surely had to be imagining parts of this, possibly because of the paranoia he was experiencing with the strange man.
But as Duncan stared at himself in the mirror, he began to realize that he looked slightly off, too. His eyes, which should’ve been brown, were white and almost glassy. Closing his eyes didn’t seem to rid himself of it either. Okay, his mind had to be playing tricks on him now. Maybe he just needed to go home.
As he wiped his face off with some paper towels, the door to the restroom opened with a blast of weirdly cold air. Duncan immediately looked up into the mirror and his body proceeded to lock up.
For the third time that day, the mystery man was here. Or maybe it was still the second, considering he probably hadn’t left the karaoke bar after his song. He was closer than ever, and still shadowless after his shadow had seemingly walked off and probably killed a man, but in the mirror Duncan saw something much different.
In the reflection of the mirror, the man had a massive pair of black wings, a matching halo behind his head, and no face. Where a face would be was instead a dark void, sucking in all light that neared it similar to how his shadow had earlier. His outfit seemed different as well, instead of the casual hoodie and jeans he wore on stage, he had on loose black pants, sandals and no shirt, probably to make room for the wings. When he looked closer, his chest wasn’t moving at all, as if he wasn’t even breathing.
Was this man even alive?
Duncan finally regained enough control over his body to turn his head and look at the man, only to see normal features as well as the same hoodie and jeans from earlier. Brown eyes, brown hair, no wings or halo. He looked to be around forty. Despite forgetting the features every time he looked away, Duncan could somehow immediately remember him upon sight. He looked back at the mirror. Not only was the figure still winged and faceless, but Duncan’s eyes were still white with that strange glassy sheen. He looked back and forth a few times, watching the man fix his hair and use the mirror as if he had a face before leaving. The whole scene had played out as if the man didn’t even realize Duncan existed.
Only then did the rest of Duncan’s body relax, and he collapsed bonelessly onto the floor, having realized he hadn’t even breathed the entire time. He couldn’t recall the face, but rather his brain had at least given him a head now, complete with the short brown hair he had seen in both the mirror and on the actual man as well as the same black void face he saw in the reflection. Somehow, this new mental reconstruction was worse than the original idea of him not having a head at all. He gasped for air, trying to push the unsettling image out of his mind.
“Shit, Duncan, are you okay?” Mahmood’s voice forced Duncan back to reality, vision focusing on the face above him. He hadn’t even heard the door open a second time. “I know that dude died, but I didn’t realize it freaked you out that badly.”
Duncan tried to sit up, but Mahmood stopped him. “Hey, you might’ve hit your head. Don’t push yourself.”
“Geez, I didn’t pass out. I didn’t hit anything, I’m fine, I think.” Duncan said, still clearly sounding shaken. He stared up at Mahmood for a moment, trying to see if he could read anything on his friend’s face. “What color are my eyes?”
Mahmood suddenly looked concerned. “Hey, if you’re forgetting stuff like that, maybe you forgot you passed out. Does your head hurt? Should I get the others to help you?”
Duncan abruptly sat up, gritting his teeth. “I’m fine.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, seemingly frustrated that his friend was too concerned about a potential concussion than his supernatural experience. “I saw that man again. I don’t know what it is with him, when he came in it was like I couldn’t move, and when he left, my body relaxed so suddenly I fell down.” Standing back up, Duncan looked back into the mirror.
Mahmood looked normal. Duncan’s eyes were still white and glassy. “Why did you lie to me?” His tone was quieter now, as if he was trying to negate the accusatory tone he had taken towards his friend. He leaned in closer, pulling at the skin around his eyes as if they would magically go back to normal.
“Lie about what?” Mahmood seemed confused. “Your eyes? They look normal. You know, brown.”
Somehow, Mahmood’s answer made Duncan angry. Was he lying or did he really not see what Duncan saw? He stared at his friend through the mirror, trying to calm himself. “You know the guy on stage, right?” He asked. His voice sounded calm on the surface, but there was an underlying edge to it. “Did you see his shadow? It was so dark. And then it just… left him? It walked away from him, and then the guy died. I don’t know who this guy is, but I don’t like him. Something’s up with him. Do you even remember what he looks like?”
“Hey, don’t bombard me with questions like that.” Mahmood raised his hands, sensing Duncan’s irritation. “There was nothing wrong with him, I didn’t see any funky business going on with his shadow. He looked like a normal dude to me.”
“Then explain why I was practically face-to-face with this man for a few minutes and can’t even remember what he looked like? I can never see his face in my mind as soon as I look away, I only know when I see him again.” Duncan was raising his voice now, but it wasn’t like he would be heard through the loud background noise of the bar. Even though someone had died less than ten minutes ago, he could still hear music filtering into the restroom from the main area of the bar.
Mahmood looked puzzled by Duncan’s words and thought for a moment. “Are you implying that you’ve seen this man before?” He asked.
“Yes, I have. I saw him on the bus three weeks ago, and now he’s back, and everything’s been weird. Hell, I think he has something to do with the car that almost hit me earlier!” Duncan stepped back from the mirror, pacing in circles and running his hands through his hair. He faced the mirror again, and nothing had changed about his eyes. If anything, that fact only frustrated him further. “Every time I’ve seen him, it’s like my body wants to run. It’s like some kind of deep-rooted fear. I don’t understand, but now that I’ve seen what he looked like in the mirror…”
He trailed off, trying to think about what the man had looked like. He remembered the hair, the dark void face, and how he wore different clothes, but he couldn’t remember anything else. He groaned, shoulders slumping. “I can’t even remember what he looked like in the mirror! It was different, scarier. I was terrified by it. He had no face.”
Mahmood took a deep breath before walking over and putting his hands on Duncan’s shoulders. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but you sound like you need to rest. Let’s go back to the booth and finish what we’ve ordered. Then we can take you back home. Or we can go to the park, it’s pretty quiet there.”
As appealing going to bed sounded, Duncan couldn’t help but feel afraid of going back and being alone in his apartment. What if he was next on the strange man’s hitlist? From what he remembered, the man looked stronger than him. There was no way he’d win a fight against him alone. “I think I’d rather go to the park.” His tone had changed considerably, sounding less aggressive and more miserable. “I don’t feel very comfortable being alone right now.”
Mahmood seemed sympathetic, and he gently put a hand on Duncan’s shoulder and helped guide him out back to the booth. When they got back, the bar seemed back to normal, no dead bodies in sight. Jamala and Dami gave Duncan worried looks, but he brushed it off and slid into his seat, finishing off his drink. It didn’t taste as good now that the ice was half-melted, but he wanted out of the bar as soon as possible.
The sun had fully set by the time they left the bar, and Mahmood informed the other two of the slight change in plans before they all hopped onto the first bus out of the city. Sure, they had little parks in the city to walk your dog, but outside the city was where it was at. It was the place with all of the best hiking trails and scenic overlooks. It took about half an hour, and by then it was almost nine o’clock in the evening. The sky was completely clear now, giving an excellent view of the stars above.
When Duncan and his friends didn’t go out to eat, they would come out to the park, typically late at night, and spend time looking at the sky or finding their way through a hiking trail in near-darkness. It had been an idea of Dami’s a while ago, and they just couldn’t stop coming back.
But the atmosphere between the four was a bit more tense than usual. Duncan hadn’t spoken a word the entire way there, choosing to stare out the window instead, and Mahmood gave him the periodic worried look while the other two talked quietly a row behind them. None of them were particularly well-prepared for the park, but they didn’t seem to care as they all got off the bus and made the short walk to the park entrance.
“At least we’re all wearing sneakers.” Jamala murmured, but even that didn’t stop the four of them from looking out of place in the camping area of the park. Several trailers and a couple tents were set up in the lit-up area, but no one else was out and about but them.
Duncan looked over at the others, feeling a bit bad that Dami and Jamala were completely out of the loop as to what had transpired between him and Mahmood in the restroom earlier. “We should go to that scenic outlook we like.” He suggested. It was the first thing he had said in almost forty-five minutes.
No one seemed to object to the idea.
As the group made their way down the trail, Duncan couldn’t help but check over his shoulder every so often. Despite his best efforts, part of him was still anxious, worrying that the mystery man had somehow followed them.
“Hey, you’re gonna trip if you keep looking behind you like that.” Dami said gently, catching his attention. “It’s not like you can see very far behind us, anyway. We’re almost there.”
Duncan only nodded, turning back to the path ahead. They all knew the path well, as the place they hung out actually required them to veer off the intended route. After stepping through some foliage, the trees opened up to reveal a grassy patch that went for about three and a half meters before hitting a steep drop. The view itself was breathtaking: A cloudless, starry sky that reflected in the lake below. Duncan had been to the lake a few times as well, as it was also part of the park. They just had to take a different, longer route to get there. It was a great place to fish, but the appeal of hanging out there was lost on him as he preferred how it looked from above. It was like a black mirror at night: a strange, shiny, inky darkness that showed off the stars above.
After what felt like an eternity of silence, Jamala spoke. “You look like you saw a ghost, Duncan.”
Duncan didn’t turn around, continuing to stare out at the lake below. “I feel like I have, if I’m honest.” He kept his tone softer than normal, not wanting to get angry again like he had with Mahmood back at the karaoke bar. It wasn’t going to do him any good. “That guy who sang, I’ve seen him before. Something’s not right about him.”
“I mean, you’ve always had a solid gut instinct.” If the direction of Jamala’s voice was anything to go by, she had sat down in the grass. “Remember the last time we all went to your apartment after dinner? You insisted on taking a longer route, and the normal route had a pretty violent fight break out there that night.”
Duncan could remember that night pretty well. Mahmood had asked him if he was okay for not wanting to take the shortest possible route. He often threw caution to the wind and took shortcuts through alleyways, even late at night. But that night, something had unsettled him so deeply that he insisted on taking a different way back. He had never thought that maybe what he was experiencing with this strange man could be connected. Hell, maybe the man had been there and he hadn’t noticed.
“But this guy, he’s so weird . Like, he’s not right.” Duncan continued. “I get gut feelings, and yes, the way I feel when I’m around him makes me feel the same way I did when I insisted on taking the long way home, but there’s something deeper. I told Mahmood about it earlier. I can’t tell you what his face looks like when I look away from him. And when he was in the restroom with me, his reflection was different, and his face wasn’t there. And don’t get me started on his shadow.”
He turned around, as if to see if anyone understood, but all he saw were the three of them sitting in the grass, looking confused. “His… shadow?” Dami raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you kept track of people’s shadows.”
Duncan sighed. “I don’t, that’s the point. His shadow stood out. It was so dark, and then it walked away from him after he finished his karaoke song! It didn’t leave with him, it walked off the other way, and then there was that crashing cause of that guy dying! I bet it killed him!”
“Woah there, that’s a little far fetched, don’t you think?” Jamala shifted in her spot in the grass. “It was probably a trick of the light.”
Taking a small step back, Duncan shook his head. “It wasn’t. How would that explain how he looked different in the mirror? His shadow wasn’t anywhere to be seen when he was in the restroom with me, either. Speaking of which, when I almost got hit by that car, I noticed my shadow looked weird. It looked just like his.”
Duncan had started to ramble, clearly no longer caring about the fact that he should stop to give the others time to respond to him. “And… he looked so big and scary in the mirror, but I can’t even remember what he was wearing in the mirror…”
“Duncan.” Jamala tried to grab his attention, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care as he put his face in his hands, still walking backwards like he was trying to escape the situation.
“I don’t get how he looked at the bus stop either, he was totally different! He had a trench coat and everything, but then he wasn’t wearing that at the bar…”
“Duncan!”
“And when I looked in the mirror, something was wrong with my eyes, they were white, but Mahmood didn’t even—”
“DUNCAN, STOP!” Jamala screamed. Mahmood sprung off the ground and rushed towards him, but he couldn’t get there in time.
Duncan had seemingly forgotten where he was, and had accidentally backed up off the edge of the cliff. Now above him, getting steadily further away, were the faces of his friends as they watched him fall. He didn’t scream, he couldn’t, the terror he felt so strong it squashed any cries for help. When he looked down, the inky darkness of the lake almost seemed to open beneath him like an open maw, ready to swallow him whole upon impact. Terrified of seeing what he’d be hitting, he looked back up, silently praying that something, anything would rescue him from this fate.
But amidst the rush of the air as he fell and the sight of his friends having left the cliff edge to presumably get on the lake trail, he saw something else. It was almost like a giant bird, wings spread wide before tucking them in for a death dive towards him. If it weren’t for the fact that it wasn’t glowing at all, he would’ve thought it was an angel.
In an instant, the thing was directly above him, wings outstretched once more as a pair of strong arms grabbed him. The wings encircled his body, and the last thing he saw was a set of vaguely familiar brown eyes trained completely on him before they hit the water together.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Duncan gasped for air, eyes popping open. He couldn’t even remember the pain of the impact. The sky above him was clear, a vast expanse of light blue stretching as far as the eye could see.
Wait. Wasn’t it supposed to be nighttime?
Duncan sat up, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He wasn’t wet, he didn’t hurt at all…
Was he dead?
The ground was cool and hard beneath him, feeling like stone with a layer of dust on top. But that wasn’t what he was looking at. Instead, Duncan was checking out the giant triangular structure not too far away from him. He blinked a few times, trying to process exactly what he was looking at. But his eyes clearly were not deceiving him.
There, a couple hundred meters away, was the great pyramid of Giza. Surely he hadn’t been magicked away to Egypt!
That brief thought was quickly tossed out when he looked around. There were more monuments, standing there like they belonged. Sure, the pyramid seemed to fit into the environment, and maybe the Colosseum if he squinted, but the Eiffel Tower? Seriously?
Mr. Laurence!
Duncan wasn’t quite sure if he heard the voice normally or inside his head, but it made him turn completely around.
It almost didn’t surprise him at this point when he saw the statue of Christ the Redeemer there, looking like it had been snatched from its home in Brazil and set down here in whatever world Duncan had ended up in. He couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, considering how ironic it probably was. Was it going to judge him or something? As he stared at it, wondering if it had been the thing that had called his name, he noticed a person-shaped silhouette standing on one of its arms.
Outstretching his arms, the figure fell forward off the statue, entering a freefall for a few moments before a pair of large wings opened out and caught him. He drew closer before finally landing before Duncan and dropping to a knee, wings stretched out wide on either side of him. Duncan’s eyes widened.
It was the mystery man. He looked almost how he did in the reflection in the bar, with the huge black wings and halo, but his face was present. His hand was outstretched, as if trying to help Duncan up.
Hesitantly reaching out, Duncan accepted the help and was pulled to his feet. The man’s hand was weirdly cold. But despite what he saw, Duncan realized that he felt no fear. He wasn’t afraid, and that deep-rooted feeling of dread wasn’t there. The weird calmness he felt almost unnerved him more than the man himself ever had.
“What the hell is going on?” Duncan finally asked. He couldn’t understand anything about where he was, much less what was happening. He glanced back and forth between the man and the Jesus statue he had flown down from. “Am I going to get judged for my sins?”
The man laughed at his words. “Oh no, no, you’re not dead.” His voice was rich, accent thick. “You’re just hanging out with me for a moment. Don’t worry though, this will take no time at all. I mean, you’re kind of outside of it at the moment.”
“I’m what now?” Duncan wasn’t sure if he was able to fully grasp what the man was getting at.
“You’re outside of time, Mr. Laurence.” The man replied. “I haven’t brought anyone here before, mainly because I’ve never pushed Fate as much as I just did to rescue you this time.”
“This time? So you were the one who stopped the car?” The incident with the minivan was still fresh in his mind even after everything he had gone through that evening.
The man nodded. “Yes. And I was the one who made sure you got off the bus early, and the one who made sure you took a longer route to your apartment.”
As intriguing as this was, Duncan still had questions. “But you’re not a guardian angel. Your shadow killed someone.”
The man nodded. “That’s also correct, yes. My kind don’t necessarily have names other than the ones Fate gives us, but a guardian angel, an angel of death, or a reaper could be seen as appropriate. I prefer to call myself an Emissary of Fate, though. The others I know also like that title as well.”
“So what are you supposed to do, exactly?” Duncan asked. “And why does everyone else think I’m going crazy?”
“Everyone thinks you’re crazy because you have the eyes to see things for what they really are.” The man replied. “You sense things they do not. That’s why you saw my shadow leave to take someone whose time had come. That’s why you felt fear in my presence, and saw my true self in the mirror. It’s because you are special.” He tucked his wings back up. Even folded shut, they still brushed against the ground. “As for me and my kind, however, our job is to ensure that all die at the appropriate time. Fortunately for you, it is not your time yet. We have the necessary abilities to alter logic and reality to ensure Fate’s course follows through as expected.”
Duncan stood in silence for a moment as he processed the information. He could just see things a little differently? Was that why this Emissary of Fate guy had been able to help him so many times? He had used the fact that Duncan would feel fear around him to do his job. If his presence on the bus was required, something must have transpired after he left that would’ve killed him had he decided to get off at his normal stop.
After some careful thought, Duncan looked back up at the man. “When I fell off the cliff, you didn’t just stop me in the air. Why was that?”
“Well, we may be able to bend reality, but we cannot do it to an extent that it’s extremely obvious.” He said. “Sure, I can stop that car in an instant, and it seems unnatural, but it’s not totally bizarre. Yes, it’s weird. But it seems like it could be possible, especially to a normal, uneducated person. But falling as you were isn’t something you can just stop. Even a child would know that suddenly stopping in midair is ridiculous. That’s why I had to catch you myself, and that’s something Fate doesn’t like.”
“If you prevented me from dying early, why is Fate upset about you catching me? Is it gonna kill you or something?” As thankful as Duncan was for the guy saving his life, part of him would have preferred that he died so the guy could save more people like him.
“No, I won’t die. Fate just doesn’t like it when we show ourselves, even if it’s to people like you, who can see us for who we really are. I’ll just be… reassigned.” He explained. “Fate thinks that if someone is so important that we have to show ourselves to them, we might as well work on solely protecting that person.” He reached out, taking Duncan’s hand again. When Duncan looked down, he noticed what looked like shackles of light linking their wrists together.
“So, what’s the extent of this, exactly?” He asked. “Do you have to hover around me all the time?”
The man chuckled. “Well, we can figure it out. But in a sense, I’m kind of your guardian angel now. However, I still have to kill people when required.” He gave Duncan’s hand a squeeze, sending a chill through his body. But it wasn’t a bad chill. In fact, it made him feel weirdly comfortable.
“Occurrences like this are rare, but they do happen. I know another one who got stuck with someone they saved some years back, they chose to become friends and work together.” Raising his hand, the dust beside the two of them swirled and rose up, forming a colored image.
It was two older men in suits, one bald with a bushy beard and the other a little more gaunt, with pale hair that ran a little past the chin. Both of them were holding onto some sort of stringed instruments Duncan had never seen before. The pale-haired man seemed to stand a little further back, likely to make room for the large pair of white feathered wings he had.
With a snap of his fingers, the dust-image scattered, settling back down on the ground. “They make music together, it’s quite interesting.” He mused. “But that’s not something you have to do. You can feel free to keep me at arm’s length if you like, just know that I’m there to help you should you need it. You’ll still feel that chill, but at least you’ll know why.”
Duncan had already made up his mind at this point. “I want to be close to you.” He blurted out, before immediately realizing that he hadn’t really formulated a reason as to why. “Uhm, because I feel really bad for thinking you were a bad guy or something. Why wouldn’t I want to befriend the guy who’s supposed to save my life? You’d just have to deal with my friends, they can be a bit of a handful.”
The man nodded. “I was kind of hoping you’d say that. It’s rare someone like you exists, most people with your eyes and senses live in isolation as they’re deemed insane. I might be able to help you utilize it more effectively.”
“I have a few more questions, if that’s okay? I’m getting a little weirded out by being here.” Duncan said. He eyed the Jesus statue in front of him again. It almost felt like the thing was intruding on their private conversation. The man nodded.
“Can my friends stay out of this? Like, the supernatural bullshit.” Duncan wasn’t sure how his friends would handle this sudden change. Like, he was already probably about to drag this dude into his tiny circle of friends, so he may as well not overwhelm them with a sudden influx of information. “And also, did you get to choose how you looked?”
“Ah, yes. That.” The man cleared his throat. “I will do my best to make sure your friends don’t know what’s going on, but should we be in dire straits I make no guarantees. And as for my appearance, I had no say. Fate gives us our bodies, our names, any skills or background we need should we have to pass as a normal human being. I chose to cut my hair and get tattoos, though. Helps me keep up with the times, considering how long I’ve been around. I’m typically invisible, though.”
Duncan was still brimming with questions, but a rumbling in the distance caused him to look around nervously. The man sighed.
“I suppose it’s time to wake up, Mr. Laurence.” The man said. “Or would you rather I call you Duncan?”
“Duncan is fine. We’re gonna be friends anyway, right? I should know your name, too.” The rumbling was getting louder, the ground beginning to show cracks.
“I’m Sergey.” Was all the man replied, and then he pulled Duncan close, wrapping his arms and wings around him tightly as the earth beneath them opened up and they began to fall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Duncan woke up with a start, staring into the night sky above. He was very cold. Wet, too. His clothes stuck to his body and he quickly began shivering from the cold. But he felt no pain, no water in his lungs.
A pair of cold arms lifted him up so he was sitting before wrapping around him. “Are you with me?” Sergey’s voice rang clear, almost eerily calm. Duncan looked back to see him there, wings tucked back as he made sure Duncan was okay.
“Yeah, I’m just really cold.” Duncan leaned forward, feeling Sergey’s arms pull away as he worked to fix his soaked shirt. Hopefully the lakewater hadn’t ruined it. “You’re cold, too. Can you warm yourself up or anything?”
“I can most certainly try, but I make no guarantees. I only have a human body for the purposes of existing amongst mortals, not for much else. That’s why I don’t breathe unless I need to speak.” Standing up, Sergey stretched for a moment, arms and wings extending. And then in an instant, the wings were gone, and his clothes were normal again. But only for a moment, because immediately afterwards, Sergey threw himself into the lake.
Duncan’s face suddenly grew hot as Sergey crawled out of the lake, clothes soaked and hair sticking to his forehead. Trying not to stare at the way Sergey’s clothes now hugged his body and showcased his musculature, Duncan immediately turned away. He heard Sergey come up behind him and kneel back down beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders.
Sure enough, like some sort of humanoid heating pad, he had gotten warmer. “What the hell was that all about?” Duncan asked. “Like yes, you’re warm, but why did you do that?”
“Not so loud.” Sergey looked back up, seemingly on alert. Duncan followed his gaze, and he noticed Mahmood, Jamala and Dami rushing onto the scene.
“Shit, Duncan, are you okay?” Jamala gasped. She looked between him and Sergey. “And who are you?”
Sergey stood up, slicking back his wet hair. “I’m Sergey. I happened to be out here when he fell into the lake, so I went in and fished him back out. There was no way emergency services would’ve been able to save him, considering he passed out on impact. He’s unharmed, though.”
Mahmood looked to be in disbelief, likely from how he thought Duncan had hit his head in the bar restroom earlier that evening. “No fucking way.” He went over and knelt down by Duncan, pressing his hands against Duncan’s back, arms and neck. “Does this hurt at all?” He asked.
Duncan shook his head. “Look, I appreciate that you’re worried, but I want to go home. I feel fine, just wet and shaken up.” He stood up, feeling surprisingly stable despite what he had just endured, and gave Mahmood a hug. “I’m okay. I promise.”
Mahmood returned the embrace, and after Duncan let go, turned to face Sergey. “Thank you for saving our friend, we thought he was a goner.”
Sergey smiled and nodded. “It’s seriously no problem at all.” His voice was still weirdly calm, which Duncan thought was just a byproduct of preventing people’s early deaths for however long he had been around.
“I know it’s late, but if you want something to eat, I could let you come back to my place.” Duncan offered. “It’s the least I can do for you.” It seemed innocent enough, but it was really his excuse to get Sergey over to his apartment without garnering suspicion from his friends.
Thankfully, Sergey seemed to understand. “That sounds like a good idea. If I could have a shower too, that would also be nice.”
After getting things sorted, the five of them left back up the trail and out of the park, heading to the bus stop.
For Duncan, the ride was unusually peaceful. He shut his eyes and leaned back in the seat, no longer feeling on edge like he had been since the first time he had seen Sergey. It was oddly fitting to be on a bus with him again, considering how the first time he could recall seeing him had been in the same situation.
But this time, he wasn’t scared of his presence. He felt safe. And this time, even with his eyes closed, he noticed that one more thing had changed.
Duncan could remember Sergey’s face.