The Boy in the Shadows

CHAPTER 4 — Between Dreams and Shadows

Ethan lay on his bed long after Mara had gone home. The room was quiet now, but the mark on his wrist throbbed like a heartbeat of its own. He pressed his fingers against it, wincing as the dark lines seemed to pulse under his skin, spreading slowly across his forearm.

It wants me…

The thought sent a chill down his spine. He didn’t know who—or what—“it” was, but he could feel its presence lingering just beyond the edges of his vision, like a shadow that refused to leave. Sleep would not come, yet he knew he couldn’t stay awake forever.

Eventually, exhaustion claimed him. His head fell onto the pillow, eyes fluttering shut. And then he was back in the forest.

Mist coiled around him, cold and wet against his skin. The air smelled of earth and decay, though the forest seemed strangely silent. Not a single bird, not a single rustle. And there, just beyond a twisted tree trunk, stood the boy again. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and his eyes glimmered with a strange, haunting light.

“Ethan…” the boy whispered. His voice was soft, carried on the wind, barely audible. “You can see me…”

Ethan wanted to speak, to ask questions, but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. The shadows around them moved then, twisting, shifting like living smoke, creeping closer with deliberate patience. They seemed drawn to the boy as much as to him.

“You don’t understand,” the boy said, voice trembling. “They’re coming for me… and now, for you.”

Ethan swallowed, panic rising. “Who… who are they?” he asked.

The boy shook his head. “No time. You have to—”

A sudden, sharp c***k echoed through the forest. The shadows surged, stretching into spindly, faceless shapes that lurked just at the edge of the mist. Ethan felt a cold grip tighten around his chest, as if invisible hands were pressing down on him.

“Run,” the boy whispered. “You must run and… find the light.”

Ethan turned, his legs moving as if pulled by some instinct he didn’t understand. He ran blindly, mist curling around his ankles, the shadows hissing and scraping against the ground behind him. A low, almost human whisper echoed through the forest:

He is yours now…

He jolted awake, heart hammering, sweat clinging to his skin. Morning light filtered through his blinds, but the room felt heavy, as if the shadows from the dream had followed him here. The mark on his wrist burned, throbbing painfully, almost like it had a pulse separate from his own.

He swung his legs out of bed, hands trembling. The day would be long. He could feel it in his bones. Mara’s words from yesterday repeated themselves in his mind: We face it together.

Still, he couldn’t shake the sense that something had already crossed the line between dream and reality.

At school, everything seemed… off. The hallways looked familiar, but every shadow seemed too thick, too deliberate. Each whisper of movement in the corners of his vision made him flinch. He passed by students chatting and laughing, their normalcy contrasting sharply with the chaos he felt inside.

Mara met him at their usual locker, her brow furrowed. “You look worse,” she said, voice quiet. “Did it happen again?”

Ethan nodded slowly. “The dream… the boy… and the shadows. They’re stronger now. I feel it following me, even when I’m awake.”

Mara studied the mark on his wrist. “It’s… moving,” she whispered. “It’s like it knows something. Like it’s alive.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Ethan admitted, frustration and fear tugging at him. “Every time I try to ignore it, it gets worse.”

Mara put a hand on his shoulder. “Then we don’t ignore it. We find out what it wants.”

The thought of following the boy into the unknown made his stomach churn, but he knew she was right. Fear had kept him paralyzed for too long. If the boy needed him… if the shadows were tied to him now… there was no turning back.

After school, they decided to go to the edge of the forest. The mist had already begun to curl at the edges of the trees, even though the sun still hung low in the sky. Ethan’s pulse raced as he stepped closer. The mark on his wrist burned, as if sensing the proximity of something it recognized.

“You really think this is a good idea?” he whispered.

Mara didn’t answer. She simply led the way, confident, steady, despite the growing chill in the air. Ethan followed, each step heavier than the last, as though the forest itself resisted their presence.

Suddenly, the shadows shifted. Ethan froze. Shapes moved just beyond the trees, twisting into forms that were not entirely human. Faces seemed to appear and vanish, and low hissing sounds echoed around them. His breath came in shallow gasps.

“Ethan…” Mara whispered. “Stay close. Don’t let them separate us.”

He nodded, heart hammering. The boy from the dreams appeared then, standing farther ahead, pale and thin, silent except for his eyes, which gleamed with an intensity Ethan had never seen before. The shadows recoiled slightly from him, but not for long.

Ethan felt the weight of responsibility settle on him. This wasn’t a game. This wasn’t a dream he could wake from. The boy was real, the shadows were real, and the mark—burning, pulsing—was a connection he couldn’t ignore.

The boy extended a hand toward him. “Ethan… help me.”

The words reverberated in his mind. The shadows surged closer. Fear clawed at him, but for the first time, determination rose above it. He gritted his teeth, planted his feet, and took a step forward.

And then another.

The shadows hissed. The forest seemed to tighten around him. And yet… he didn’t stop.

Ethan didn’t know what awaited him, only that this was the first step. The dream had crossed into reality, and the boy’s plea echoed louder than any fear he had ever felt.

For the first time, Ethan realized something undeniable: whatever darkness lay ahead, he was no longer just a boy hiding from shadows. He was part of the story now.

And stories… stories demanded action.