Shaydes of the Past
#6 of Shades of Grey
Shayde was dreaming.
The young Labrador pup was so deeply asleep, he wouldn't have woken up, even in the event of an electrical storm. Most puppies were terrified of such things, and the crash of thunder was enough to rouse even the deepest of sleepers. But Shayde was different. He could sleep through anything, and his parents are very grateful for this.
On this particular night, Shayde was dreaming a dream that he'd had for many a night. In it, he was running through a forest, chasing a distant figure. This figure giggled and laughed as he chased it, not allowed to get close enough to see it. When he woke up from this dream, he was often frustrated, and tried to ask his mother about them.
'Mummy,' he asked all the time. 'What does my dream mean?'
The willowy yellow Labrador female would turn from her task, usually cooking for her husband and young son, and tried to explain dreams to him.
'Dreams are just little movies in your mind, dear. They don't always mean things.'
'But this one happens all the time.' Shayde's confusion showed on his face, and his mother often laughed at the expression.
'Well, if you really want to know, try and remember what you can. If you have the dream again, try your hardest to keep things in your mind. Tell me what you see, and I'll help you. But remember, dreams are only dreams, and can't hurt you.'
So Shayde had done so. For the week or so that this dream happened, he'd tried to remember what he could. But the dream was so vague, and his memories of it so blurry, that neither he nor his mother could make heads or tails of it.
Until that morning.
This particular replay of his dream was different. He knew that straight away. The trees were darker, their twisted branches more ominous. Shayde was only a pup, so such things still made his tail tuck down sometimes.
He saw the figure, closer this time. Like before, the figure retreated from him, and he duly chased it. But this time, the figure didn't giggle or laugh. It also moved slower, seeming to take its time, but still not slow enough for Shayde to catch it.
He continued to follow the figure farther into the forest, the area getting darker and darker. He began to get scared. But he remembered what his mother said, about dreams not being able to hurt you, so he pushed on.
Eventually, he caught up with the figure. It was a tall person, covered in a dark green hooded cloak, standing with their back to him. He could hear a noise coming from them; it sounded like crying.
Gathering his failing courage, Shayde stepped forward.
'Hello?' he asked the figure. 'Why are you crying?'
The figure didn't move, but it did speak. It sounded like someone he knew, but he couldn't place it.
'Please, go away. Don't come any closer.'
Now, Shayde was an obedient pup, but like all pups, he frequently ignored advice and orders. As he did now. He approached the figure and touched it, his paw shaking at his own daring. The figure flinched, and turned to face him.
It was his mother. Her face, usually carved into a thing of stunning beauty, was twisted in grief and pain. Her blue eyes were reddened with tears, and there was a dark ring around one eye, and there was a neat round hole in her shoulder, which oozed blood.
Shayde retreated rapidly from this horrible apparition, and tripped over something, landing heavily on his rear. He looked down and saw his father, lying on the ground, apparently asleep. But sleeping dogs don't have blood on them. And there was a lot of blood. Too much. It stained his black fur an even darker colour, and pooled around his chest, where, Shayde saw, an ornate handle was sticking out.
'M-Mummy?' he stammered. 'W-what's wrong with daddy?' His mother didn't say anything, but Shayde saw a trickle of blood ooze from her long snout. Her eyes were losing their sparkle, and the cloak around her slowly fell down, revealing two massive marks on her neck.
Shayde stared at the marks, more scared then he had in his life. His mother opened her mouth, and he saw she was missing several teeth. She took a deep breath that rattled its way down her damaged windpipe, and spoke a single word.
'Run...'
And Shayde did. He turned and ran, ran like he had never run before, hurtling through the dark forest. As he did, he saw someone ahead of him. A hulking, black figure. He was running right for it, and couldn't stop. Just before he hit it, he let out a scream.
He kept screaming, even as he thrashed in the grip of...his bed-sheets. His eyes snapped open, taking in the sight of his room. Breathing heavily, he looked around the room, searching for the forest and the figure, but he didn't see anything.
A few seconds later, his door burst open, and his parents entered at a run.
'Shayde, honey! What's wrong?' asked his mother, as concerned as any mother would be.
Shayde looked at her, and burst into tears, reaching out to her. She sat down on his bed and drew her arms around her shivering pup. Shayde's father sat down on his other side and stroked his head, trying to calm him down.
'What's the matter, son?' he asked, his deep voice quiet and soothing.
'I-I saw...bad...' was all Shayde could say. He dearly wanted to tell them, but he couldn't bring himself to do so.
'A nightmare?' asked his father. Shayde nodded once. 'Well, don't worry. It's okay now. We're here, and we'll never leave you.'
Shayde wasn't so sure about that anymore.
A few hours later, Shayde stumbled into the family room, to be greeted by the sight of a pile of wrapped boxes. It took him a moment to remember. It was his birthday today. Giving a shout of glee, he pounced on the boxes, and tore into them. His parents watched as paper flew everywhere, and their son disappeared in a cloud of wrapping.
There was one gift that drew his attention. Shayde picked up the long, narrow object and tore into the wrappings. Inside was a red leather case, topped by a red and gold handle. Gasping, he looked at his father.
'Why are you surprised?' chuckled his father. 'You're old enough to have one.'
Shayde drew the handle. Inside was a dull silvery blade. It was almost exactly like his father's sword. He looked up at the blade hanging on the wall, its blade a bright silver, catching the sunlight streaming into the room. He returned his gaze to the blade in his hands. His mother, however, cast a glance at her mate.
'Dear, he's a little too young to have a sword. He could hurt himself.'
Her husband shook his head. 'No he can't. It's a dull edge, not a single sharp edge on it. It's for practise. I don't want him growing up and learning that it's okay to use guns. They kill too easily. With a blade, he learns to be careful, and to come up close and give his foes a chance to fight back. That's the honourable thing to do.'
Shayde's mother conceded. There was far too much gun-usage around these days. People were being gunned down all the time, shot dead even while walking down the road. It was common practise to teach even the young to defend themselves, for that was the world they lived in. There were precious few places where a family could go without the threat of gun-fire.
Shayde was busy swinging his toy sword around, fighting invisible foes. His mother approached, and gripped the waving weapon lightly, drawing Shayde's attention to her.
'Do you want my gift, or does daddy get all the love?' Shayde shook his head rapidly, and his mother smiled, pulling a small object from behind her back, and gave it to her son. He tore into it, revealing a length of red silk-like material.
Shayde let the sword drop with a dull clatter, and picked up the fabric slowly. He had been obsessed with this object for ages now. It was a bandana, bright red and folded crisply into a square.
'What does it do?' he asked. Modern advances in chemical technology had created a range of fluids that could imbue ordinary material was amazing properties. His father had a pair of kid-gloves that never ripped, even if he dragged his sword along them. His mother had hat that kept her cool, even in the blistering heat of the summer sun, a helpful object for an avid gardener.
His mother took the bandana and dabbed at a patch of dirt seemingly glued to Shayde's yellow shoulder. The dirt melted off his sandy fur, to be dragged into the weave of the material.
'It cleans. Something I'm sure you could make a lot of use of.' Shayde blushed. He loved getting dirty. The thicker the mud, the more the fun. Sometimes, he came inside from play completely black, and had to spend an hour or more in the tub to clean down again.
Shayde took the bandana and held it and his new sword, his two best gifts ever.
'Thanks mummy and daddy. These are awesome! I'm gonna play with them all the time!'
'Well, that'll have to wait. Pack up, cause we're going to the beach,' his father said. Shayde's eyes widened with joy. Leaping up, he shouted in glee, and disappeared into his room.
'Yaaaayyyyyy!' shrieked Shayde, and he dashed down the white dunes towards the cool blue ocean, leaving his parents to carry the few bags of stuff they had. Shayde loved the beach. He loved everything about it. Especially the waves; he could spend hours at a time swimming over them and catching them in, squealing like a kitten as he soared towards the beach. He sped past a family of otters and dropped his towel a few metres from the waves, then leapt into the sea, almost vibrating with joy. His parents reached his dumping spot and dropped their loads, settling down for a relaxing day at the beach.
An hour later, Shayde was just about to go into shore, when he felt something tug his foot. He yelped and pulled out of the hold. The something gripped him again, and pulled him harder. Looking around, he saw a dark shape under the water. Terror gripped him as, thinking of sharks, Shayde thrashed and fought the grip of the black object below him. He saw his parents rush to the edge of the water, and his father was shucking his shirt, preparing to plunge in and save his son. Behind them, Shayde could just see the otter family he'd passed. The taller otter leant down and stared at a smaller otter. The otter looked out to the sea, and ran to the water.
'Oi!' called the small otter. 'Get back here! I see you!'
Shayde's parents were looking at the otter in confusion. Suddenly, the object gripping Shayde let go, and a black figure emerged from the water. It looked exactly like the small otter, but completely black. The black otter seemed to flow through the water towards the otter on the beach, not leaving a wake behind it. It approached the otter on the sand, touched him, and vanished.
Shayde was staring so hard at the otter that he didn't see the large wave that crashed into him, sending him spinning towards the sea-bed. Shayde choked as he inhaled the water, and he saw a brown figure swim at him. The otter grabbed him and towed him to shore, where he lay spluttering, expelling what seemed like half an ocean from his lungs.
'I'm so sorry for all this.' The two larger otters had approached Shayde's parents, the male holding onto the smaller otters' shoulders. 'Sammy doesn't have total control yet. I'm sorry your boy got frightened.'
'Frightened?!' his father barked. 'That thing almost killed him!'
The small otter shrank away from the angry black Lab. Shayde could tell that, if he had it, his father would be holding his blade at the otter's throat.
The female otter shook her head. 'That's not right. Sammy wouldn't hurt anyone. He just lost control a bit.'
'I'm sorry, mister dog,' the small otter, Sammy, said, looking at the sand, scuffing his foot. 'I didn't mean it.'
Shayde's mother looked at Shayde. He was sitting up now, alive and well, despite the near drowning.
'Honey, Shayde's alright. Look. I think we were more scared then he was.'
The male otter stepped up to the two Labs. 'Let me make it up to you. We have some amazing fish here. You can take some if you want.' He looked down at Sammy. 'Are you alright now? And you, young one?' Sammy nodded, and so did Shayde after a moment. The four adults walked to the otter's area, leaving their children together.
Sammy looked at Shayde with a crooked smile on his face. 'I'm really sorry about that. I'm still learning this thing.'
'What thing?' asked Shayde, curious as always.
For an answer, Sammy pointed to the sand. Shayde looked down and saw only his shadow.
Only his shadow. Sammy's was nowhere to be seen, even though the sun was beating down. Shayde felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see the black otter from before. He stumbled back and tripped over. A thin line of black ran from the otter to Sammy, joining the two.
Sammy laughed, and the black otter pointed silently at Shayde, doubled up in mute laughter.
'It's my shadow!' cried Sammy, like it was the world's greatest party trick. 'He moves around and does whatever he wants! Isn't that great?!'
The shadow collapsed and pooled into a blob of black, then stretched and flowed around Shayde in a loop. Sammy reached down and tugged at the line, and the shadow jumped up and returned to normal, staying at his feet.
Shayde stared at Sammy. 'That's amazing! How do you do that?'
'Don't know. I just can.' Sammy replied. He held out his paw. 'By the way, I'm Samiake. But my friends call me Sammy.'
Shayde shook the offered paw. 'Hi, Sammy. I'm Shayde.'
The two friends spent the rest of the day playing in the sand and waves, Sammy's shadow breaking away every now and again, but always with the line of darkness connecting him to Sammy. As the afternoon wore on, their parents called them out, so they could go home.
'Will you be coming back here soon?' asked Sammy. Shayde shook his head. 'Mostly not. We don't come here often. It's my birthday, so that's why we are here today.'
'Well, happy birthday friend. I'm glad I met you then. And sorry again about before.' Sammy glared at his shadow, which was peering out from under his foot.
'Shayde! Come on pup, let's get home. I'm making something special for you tonight,' his mother called. Shayde rolled his eyes, and shook Sammy's hand.
'Bye Sammy. I had fun today.'
'Same here. Hopefully we'll see each other again soon.'
Shayde turned and walked back to his parents.
'He seems like a nice boy, you know,' mused Shayde's mother.
His father nodded slowly. 'Yes, but...I can't trust something with that sort of power.' His brown eyes followed the family of otters as they took up their stuff and left the beach, his gaze not leaving the young otter; or more aptly, his shadow.
Dinner that night was amazing. All of Shayde's favourites (crusty bread, thick meaty stew, and custard) were present, and each was swiftly consumed. Shayde was wearing his new bandana tied around his neck, just like he'd seen in the shops. His father had taken his sword and hung it on the wall next to his own, and Shayde kept glancing at it every few minutes.
'It stays up there when you're not using it, okay son? If I see it lying around, I'll take it back to the shop.' Shayde's father was pointing at the wall, and his tone was serious enough for Shayde to take to heart.
After dinner was done, Shayde went up to his room to play with his other gifts, leaving his parents to clean up after dinner. Normally, he'd help them, but as it was his birthday, he was allowed to go play.
Shayde's mother was washing the dishes when her mate came in, carrying the empty stew-pot.
'That kid eats like a maniac. You'd think we don't feed him,' he chuckled as he placed the pot on the side-board.
'Maybe, but he's a good pup. I couldn't ask for a better child,' replied his mate.' My two boys: Shayde and Kibroy. My life is complete with you two.'
Kibroy folded his arms around his wife's shoulders. 'And you, my dear Amanda, are the only woman for me.'
Amanda leant back and took the kiss on the side of her snout, before grinning and flicking soap-suds at Kibroy's face. Kibroy ducked and tugged Amanda's ears, sending a shiver down her spine.
'Not here, dear. Shayde might come down. Later, okay, once he's asleep.' Kibroy leant down and whispered in her ear. 'Then I'll hold you to that.'
The doorbell rang. Kibroy fondled his wife's ear once more. 'Later then.' Amanda nodded, giving him a side-long glance as he swaggered out of the room slightly.
Kibroy grinned to himself. He really was a lucky dog. He had a fantastic son, and a stunning wife. Life was good. What could possibly go wrong with the world, he asked himself.
He approached the door and peered through the rippled glass. All he could see was an indistinct shape. The bell rang again.
'Okay, okay, hold on just a moment.' He opened the door.
Shayde was playing with his new toy plane when he heard a crash down stairs. Distant shouts and screams echoed up through the floor, and more crashes shook the walls slightly. Shayde frowned and put his plane down, then padded out of his room. The noise was even louder now. He approached the banister of the staircase and looked down.
Chaos was everywhere. Tables, chairs, plates and other assorted knick-knacks were strewn around the room. Shayde could see shadows moving in the glaring light. He was suddenly scared; he could hear his parents shouting at something, or someone.
Silently, he padded downstairs and peered around the corner, into the main room. What he saw made him almost cry.
His father lay on the ground, a knife handle protruding from his chest, blood flowing steadily from his severed arteries. His mother was locked in a struggle with a tall, burly figure clad in black. It looked exactly like the figure in his dream.
The figure jerked back and swung forward, and a sickening thud issued from his mother, and she fell back. The figure turned slightly, revealing it was a tiger, stacked with muscle, and holding a black firearm, the end of the barrel red with blood where it struck Amanda's face. The tiger had a completely detached expression on his face, as if he felt nothing for his actions. This lack of emotion scared Shayde more than anything he'd seen so far.
Amanda was feeling for something. She picked up a vase and hurled it at the tiger. The tiger dodged the missile with ease, and cocked his weapon at the yellow Lab. He shot a single bullet at her. Amanda cried out in pain and fell down, clutching the bleeding wound on her shoulder.
The vase continued past the tiger and smashed into the wall, right on the two swords hanging on the wall. They clattered to the ground, right next to Kibroy. Shayde could see that, amazingly, his father was still alive. But not for long: even Shayde knew no-one could life with a knife in them.
Kibroy stirred and reached over for one of the swords, dragging it painfully from the sheath. He then stood up, sending pain streaming though his body. But there was only one thought in his head: protect his family. He held the blade out and thrust forward at the tiger's back. The tiger looked up and into a mirror on the wall, and, seeing the oncoming blade, spun and blocked with his gun. The block sent a shockwave up Kibroy's arm, sapping his already waning strength. The tiger jerked the gun, pulling the blade from Kibroy's weakened grip, and sending it spinning into the wall, where it snapped: it was Shayde's toy sword, and not Kibroy's own live blade.
For the first time, emotion showed on the tiger's face. His face split into a wide, mirthless grin, such a smile chilled Shayde to the bone.
The tiger looked down at Kibroy, who had sunk to his knees. He reached down and gripped Kibroy by the neck, hoisting him up, and then landed a savage, clawed blow on his chest, just above the knife. Kibroy was sent flying into the wall, and moved no more.
Amanda screamed as her mate was savagely beaten to death, and threw herself at the tiger in a frenzied attack. The tiger turned and caught her by the throat, and started to choke her. Amanda clawed at the squeezing paws, revealing for a moment the jewelled necklace she wore. This bauble caught the tiger's eye, and, after squeezing even harder, snapped the chain from her battered neck, and let her fall to the floor, barely alive.
Shayde stood in horror, his tail tucked so far between his legs it was almost impossible to tell he had one. He was silent though, even if his only thoughts were to cry and to run to his parents.
Amanda blinked slowly, and her gaze shifted to Shayde. A single tear oozed from her blackened eye. She took a deep breath, and uttered one word.
'Run...'
The tiger turned slowly, and saw Shayde. Terror gripped the young pup as the tiger took a step towards him. Shayde lost all senses, and ran from the room, with the tiger in hot pursuit. The puppy ran through the house, tears coursing down his face as he blindly whizzed past rooms. Eventually, he returned to the main room. The tiger was barely a step behind him, and Shayde was heedless to anything in front of him. Therefore, he didn't know what he tripped over until he did. Mirroring his horror dream, he'd tripped over his father's body, and was sprawled on the ground. Right next to him was a sheathed sword. Without thinking, Shayde grabbed the blade, withdrew it, and thrust up with it.
A shock travelled down his arm as a noise like carving into meat issued. Shayde looked up to see the silvery blade sunk deep into the tiger's chest. Amazingly, it seemed the blade had slipped right through two ribs, and had severed the tiger's aorta. The tiger had barely enough life left to gasp, before he sunk down onto the ground, sliding off the blade as he did.
Shayde wasn't sure how long he sat there, still holding the blade out. After an eternity, he slowly lowered the blade and looked at it. It was crimson with the tiger's blood. With numb fingers, he untied his bandana and wiped the stained blade with it. The blood soaked into the fabric, and the treated material did as it was designed to do, the blood pooling out of it onto the ground, leaving the blade clean and shining silver again. Shayde then mechanically sheathed the blade, following the instructions his father drilled into him from past days of swordsmanship.
He then looked around the room, his gaze falling on his broken mother. Shayde approached her, tears rolling down his face. His mind was shattered by the horrors he had been witness to, so it was only tears he could shed for his mother and father. Slowly, tenderly, he wiped her bleeding nose with the bandana, cleaning it as best he could, and doing the same to the bullet wound. Once he'd cleaned her as best he could, he turned to his father. However, his father was so soaked in blood that he knew there was nothing he could do for him. So, he took up his father's heavy katana. He'd learn to use it, and use it well. He'd become a swordsman, and never touch a gun, for he knew first-hand the horrors they caused.
Once he had done all he could, Shayde left the room. His childhood was over, stolen away by the tiger. He was alone now. He left the house, with only his bandana and his father's katana, and walked away, promising himself that, once he was better and stronger, he would return, to lay them properly to rest. For now though, his journey was just beginning.