It was a curious sight. A dark mass seemed to be sketched behind the boy in the back. It had the precision of a dream. Full of grains and a mess of color and shape. It looked as if it wanted to be something. Like maybe this undefined fog of black was trying desperately to make itself into something recognizable. It moved and shifted like rustling under a blanket. The movements covered and bulgy. Gayle tilted her head, fixated on the on the “thing”.  The mass of shadows loomed behind a nameless boy sitting boredly at his desk. Nameless, only because Gayle did not know it. He was completely unaware of his follower. He just stared, eyes glazed with no hint of registration. The classroom was darker in the back and the lesson had grown stale. Gayle shrugged, using these excuses to ignore the figure and focus more. The girl was always told to focus more.
But as the end of class came, the thick darkness, what she had thought was sloppy lighting, rose with the boy and stalked him out of the room. The fog had uncoordinated motions that resembled walking, but were somehow disoriented and awkward. Gayle swiveled her head about the room, small tendrils of hair swishing with it. She was looking for reactions, trying to see if anyone else noticed the boy’s new companion. But no commotion was granted. It simply slinked out unnoticed as if it was never there. And as the teacher said a curt goodbye to her, she pondered her sighting, the memory following her the entire walk home.
Gayle lived relatively close to the school, so walking was no issue for her. Not even during the winter, which they were just approaching. She liked the chill and the sting of the wind. The air was crisp as she set on her trek. Clouds, dyed a low grey, spread above for ages. There was no break or even a peek of the sun. It was shielded for the evening. Leaves clung desperately to the sharp branches. The oranges, reds, and yellows of leaves were faded and missing. Autumn was ending and the little companions  were scarce on the naked trees. A gust would rustle the whole city, the people and buildings swaying with it. Gayle soaked the world up, smiling at any passerby. As she walked though, in the back of her mind, she caught glimpses of static. It was a movement of air like watching the heat boil the sky during summer. She saw it behind people. Miniscule pulses of static. But, as mentioned, this was towards the back of her mind.
The house she lived in was quite tame. It was nothing extravagant and acted like a cozy hole in the ground. Something simple her mother and her could enjoy. She approached the tiny place with a slow unrushed pace. She gazed at it as her home grew closer, thinking of the reasons a shadow might decide to leap from the ground and follow the owner. Because that is what it seemed to her. That the boy’s shadow simply bored of the ground and chose to join him as a  partner. But Gayle knew, of course, that that wasn’t possible. The hazeled eyed girl entertained the thought anyway though. She enjoyed it.
Her house wasn’t far now and she took the last five steps in giant leaps, twirling before she reached the door. Gayle was like a doe. Long limbs, chestnut everywhere, and drastically clumsy. Her hair hung loose just barely past her ears and her eyes resembled glass orbs. They were large, wide, and were dipped with the murky color of mixed paint. She looked younger than she was, her age being eighteen. Gayle’s height was the only hint she reached passed middle school.
She was a joyous girl, but with little friends. Her companions were the stars. Bright and ominous. She was fascinated with them. It astonished her how a little speck in the sky was actually a large mass emitting light decades away. So as she arrived home, alone waiting for her mother, she impatiently waited for her friends.
But the girl who never saw much of anyone at her house, was terribly unaware.
The next day, as the sun bleed and ruined the night sky, Gayle was experiencing the curiosity of yesterday, but in more numerous numbers. They trailed behind almost everyone now. streaking. Their followers took on a certain definition the one did not have yesterday. Even with this, they were still unrecognizable, but they seemed to have limbs. To her they looked like droplets dripped from the spaces between stars.
Gayle studied them throughout the day. They lingered behind students, teachers, men in suits, women coaxing their screaming children; even some of the teenagers she talked to. She noticed if she gazed at them too long, a dark gripping came over her. It pulled and tugged and forced its attention on her. She tried terribly to avoid staring.
A seed of crippling fear dug into her though, as she watched them define with passing days. Gayle thought the illusions as a symptom of exhaustion. She had been pulling her telescope out for hours during the night trying to fill her starvation by consuming the light of stars. Her mother had warned her, worried these late nights might cause stress, but Gayle had always thought she had limited time. There were too many hours of the day and not nearly enough when dark to satisfy. But now she tried resting a bit earlier, hoping that when she cracked open her eyes in the morning there would be nothing peculiar to witness. She could not be sure though, until she stepped outside.
A paralyzing winter morning came then, as snow flitted as graceful dancers,  Gayle was frigid, but not from the chill. She felt it as she woke; felt it in her dream last night. The laughter  and smiles adorned with dead eyes plagued her. She sensed it now, still in her bed. It was early and the sun barely filtered through the curtains. The world outside was drenched in navy blue, and Gayle’s room in a thicker shade. The darkness pooled about them, because there was not only Gayle. She could feel it staring, even without eyes; even without a face. She could even see the grin, it was in her dream, stretched and toxic. It did not move restless like the others, it was still. Patient. She was afraid to move, even something insignificant as blinking or breathing petrified her. She didn’t want a reaction from it, she didn’t even want it to be there, watching.
Gayle laid until light settled into the room. A false warmth. She laid until her mother, growing worried, peered in through the door.
“ The bus is going to be here soon, Gayle,” Jenna softly spoke.
Gayle noticed her mom was looking at her. Looking right through it. No one could see them.
She rose from her bed, dressed under the blankets, and asked for a ride to school. She didn’t want to be surrounded by them while everyone joked and talked unnoticing. Her mom, thankfully, had no new shadow. Just a regular outline stitched to her feet. Knowing this soothed Gayle, for she felt an odd twist of sinister among these figures.
On the ride to school, Gayle kept her head hung. She refused to look out the windows. And as she stepped from the car on the pavement, she still kept her head low. It wasn’t until she reached the class room did she finally brave a look. They were becoming more distinct throughout the days. She knew that. But she clung to a thought that maybe these creatures would stay mixed in obscurity.
Gayle flung her eyes to the teacher. He did not notice. He did not care. A hand gripped his face.  A hand with webs for fingers. A hand large enough to consume his features. Veins protruded at the  joints and a nasty color of blue tinted it. The creature loomed behind him. When teacher spoke the creature spoke with him. Its grotesque head nestled on Mr. Ray’s shoulder. It had reached its right arm around to claw at cheek. Its eyes were immense and rounded like planets. There was something sickly about them. The were drooped and faded. It’s head was large, its proportions ghastly, and it wore a grin. A wide smile reaching to the edges of its face as its sharp tongue flicked and spoke. Its voice was shrill and hurt Gayle’s ears. It’s entire body was tremendous it he hunched to lower itself. Everything on the monster was pointed and rigid. It’s bones poked and its skin merely stretched over him as if worn as a costume. It was mocking. It often broke into hysterics after Mr. Ray finished a sentence. It was shocking and it watched Gayle. Its droopy wallpaper yellow eyes fixated on her.
She did not scream because no else could see it. She did not shift or learn or take notes. She only watched the creature. She watched him as it studied her. And when the bell rang and she was released she saw them all. Towering and smiling. All of them. They had their limbs wrapped around their people, who still did not find the extra weight bothersome. Some whispered, some shouted, some laughed, and even some screamed. They all spoke with their counterpart, mimicking them. Unnatural voices spilled and slipped over each other. It was an endless chorus, a bundle of sounds Gayle never dreamed of.
She shook on the way home. Her heavy winter coat not nearly thick enough to shield her from temperature drop. She walked a turtle’s pace as she was dreading the hours alone with her new companion. Now that she knew the outcome the waiting would be maddening.
Gayle could almost feel the thing breathe with her. Its pace matched hers. She wondered if it would cling to her back. If it would drive its nails into her flesh like the others or scream high pitched into her ear. And for a second, she let terror run from her. Gayle turned to face the thing, now curious more than ever. The last one. Her head was tilted, eyes roaming over the space in front of her. If anyone were to have passed by they would have seen a tired sloping girl whispering what are you repeatedly. She was a girl from a distance.
She did this through those last days. She stopped and examined her shadow. She watched it form.
First,  it was the chalk sketch of a man.
Then the eyes, crimson as blood.
Its head.
Its hands.
And finally, a completed creature.
Again, it was morning. And again, she had dreamed of it. Gayle knew the puzzle had compacted, knew it was there, watching more precisely now.
“ You are not frightening,” her voice did not shake, but it didn’t even convince herself. She had still been in bed with her gaze fixed on the ceiling. In response she heard a rustle. Gayle bit her lip. She then quickly spun up in bed, shoved herself in the corner, and wrapped her lanky arms around knobby knees. Her forehead rested on the caps.
Her breathing came deep trying to relax. She came to a solution. Swiftly her eyes shot up, just to peek. After seeing, she craned her neck up, terribly slow.
Ink. That’s the word that clanged in her mind. Ink. He dripped and blotted. Thin strings sprouted and attached themselves along the room. A mass of inky webs. He was shrouded in raven, only his eyes, two menacing pools of blood, shown. He was a nightmare, a spider in man’s form. He did not smile. Not like the rest. Gayle could feel the claws. The ones in her head, the ones scratching and tearing. But he stood still. She could hear his laugh, a thousand voices booming, but his mouth remained closed.
It was when the searing agony almost pulled her into unconsciousness, did it end. That’s when he smiled. Something volatile and venomous rose from the silence. The curtains were pushed open. The stars were gone. The world was pitch.
Then he spoke and darkness grew with him.
“ Well, hello there.”