I turned from the computer screen. I couldn't take anymore.

Rain pelted the diner. Streaks of lightning flashed outside. The diner patrons held their warm drinks close. The rain beat against the windows, sounding like rushing footsteps. The winds of the storm howled in misery.

I lowered my head. I couldn't read anymore of the text which I seemed to have written without my knowledge.

"That's right," cooed a voice. I looked up, but saw no one. "Give up," the voice whispered in my ear. Finally, a form of shadows and mist began to appear in the seat across from me. He wore a hat that seemed part of his head. "You are nothing, Kyle." The voice sounded honeysweet; but in Kyle's core, he felt the vile bile it spewed. "There is no more to write. There are no more stories to tell. Besides, no one would read it anyway. No one cares for a freak like you."

I closed my eyes and shook my head. When I opened them, the shadow had vanished. I stared back at the computer screen. Finally after a few minutes of self-debate, I returned to the story.

***

Max cried out in anguish. He knew that these images were more than just illusions; they were memories—his memories. Somehow, he knew they were his memories.

The replay of that night stopped before it began. Instead the Shadow Men laughed, "We'll just save that for later. When it's time to embrace the darkness."

Everything faded again. For a second, Max stood in an empty darkness. Nothing surrounded him. There was matter. It was more of a feeling. A feeling of chaos. A feeling that nothing mattered because everything just falls into the Abyss eventually. Finally, reality bent around him. Max saw a young boy, probably about twelve or thirteen, with red-blond hair and glasses. Then it seemed as if the world split as a different location appeared next to the first. Max saw the same young boy, he was maybe a little younger than the first. Suddenly, a Shadow Man appeared next to the young boy.

"Kyle," they whispered. The Shadow Men continued to taunt the young Kyle about choosing to either try out for the solo part in the upcoming choir concert or for trying out for a part in the school play. In between scoffs, the Shadow Men would glitch and take on the appearance of Kyle's classmates. "Look at you," said the Shadow Men. "Do you think you'd be picked? You are ugly. Glasses, braces, dandruff, and acne; you're short, fat, and don't dress like us. You aren't into sports. You have manners; you excuse yourself if you belch or fart. You don't scratch yourself in public. You like cooking and art. What kind of male are you?"

The Shadow Men continued to laugh at Kyle as one addressed Max. "That's right, 'Max,' you've been a failure at everything. No matter how hard you try, it all goes wrong. You will never be the Wizard New Town needs. You'll never amount to anything as an author. Just give it up; we all know what a coward you are."

As one, the Shadow Men haunting Kyle and Max said, "You'll never win."

"I may not win," said Max, "but if I don't try, I certainly won't."

A second later, Kyle echoed the statement.

"No!" hissed the Shadow Men before dissipating. The dark cloud surrounding Max faded; he was back in the town square.

Max let out a shaky sigh. His hand trembled. He'd fought countless monsters and vile humans over the years; it never gets easier standing up to them.

"Excellent work, Max," said Phil while his black and white wand body flashed a series of happy hues.

Max smiled weakly. "Thanks, Ph—" A cold shiver needled Max's spine. The square grew dark. It felt like a storm was coming, but the sky was clear.

"You fragmented weed!" rumbled an ominous, gloomy voice. The sound of six voices speaking as one echoed like a rocket across the square. "If you will not go quietly into that good night, we will drag you screaming into the Pit of Endless Sorrow!"

Max felt the wind push on him. Small debris, like paper and leaves, tumbled and floated towards the center of the square. A small black orb began to grow. This orb pulled at everything in the square. Benches creaked and moaned. Pieces of wall made horrible screeeEEEE-chinging noises as the strange force dragged them from their masonry homes. The winds began to howl much like someone blowing on a whistle or blowing over a bottle. It was like the orb was an empty space and the wind rushed to fill that void causing sounds of howling and gnashing.

Finally, the force pulled at Max. He struggled against it, looking much like a mime pretending to walk against the wind. Max strained, his sweat yanked from his face before it could fully form. He didn't hear the soft sound of energy discharging a zap, but he did see Zak standing a few feet away.

Max shouted his friend's name, but the strange orb swallowed it. Fortunately, Zak was down wind, so when he said, "Follow me," it reached Max before vanishing into the orb's powerful maw. Zak stretched his arm towards Max. Max found the strength to take the last few steps and grasp the outreached arm.

Otherworldly energy crackled. ZAP! The two (three if you count Phil) vanished.

The destruction ended as abruptly as it began. The orb expanded until it resembled the six Shadow Men. "You wish to run? Then face the beast that you are!"

***

I let out a sigh of relief. What a story! But, how did it get there? I don't remember writing it, yet there it is on my laptop. The frothy swish-waa-shhh of designer coffee being made spread through the diner like a blanket of normality. A couple sitting a few tables away discussed the latest trending thwips from the Internet.

"Zombies invading the city?" the man laughed. "What a joke!"

I'd come to the end of what was written, but I wished for more. I needed more; I needed to find out what happened to Max. I positioned my fingers over the keyboard keys.

Nothing came to me.

Well, not entirely.

I knew the next line, but I didn't want to type it. I faced the floor in a mixture of fear and shame. I needed to know what happened to Max.

Myfinger pressed the first letter. The tap-click sound echoed and thunderedthrough the diner.

_________

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