Lost Among Shadows: Ash Manor, #3

Chapter I

A Coward No More?

Ash rested his temple against the wall beside the window and closed his eyes to ward off the silence. Habit alone drove Ash to seek comfort from his room. The steady hum, he'd let himself grow accustomed to so fast, had stopped. Almost as if losing Heart had severed Ash's connection to...whatever. He had no idea how any of this worked and that made it obvious that Ash shouldn't have been the one left behind. He'd kind of hoped the motel could shed some light on this mess. Like, tell him where that portal took Heart or, at least, give him a clue where to start looking.

The loss of his only lead had hit Ash hard, almost driving him to give up after the Sentry. It had taken him days to get his act together and come up with a plan. Because this time, Ash wasn't going to wait around for someone to come fix his problems. Heart and Mind were counting on him. Well, Mind anyway. Knowing Heart, the teenager had mounted his own rescue or escape mission by now. And made good progress, too, while Ash's plan had fallen apart,  foiled by entire oceans pelting from the sky for days. Ash cracked one eye open and peered outside.

The rain had stopped today, but a curtain of fog, far thicker than normal even for Morson, lingered. It turned the parking lot into a ghostly island. If not for the roaring of engines, Ash might have thought the rest of the world gone. Puddles, deep enough to bathe a toddler in, fought each other for what little light the sun had to offer. Should he want it, the fog would give a valid excuse for delaying just a little bit longer. His room was nice and warm and... No. Ash grimaced. He'd already wasted enough time. Too much for all he knew.

Up...set.

Though little more than a whisper, the mangled word drew a startled yelp from Ash. Heat crept up his neck, his own body mocking him as surely as Heart would have. A cowards noise, just when he'd decided stop hiding. Typical. Irritation chased away the doubt before it could gain a proper hold in his mind. He looked over his shoulder at the restless shadow lurking at the foot of his bed and cringed.

He'd forgotten about the thing again—the creature he'd found at the Sentry. Somehow it had followed him to the motel and now its home under Ash's bed. The creature was little more than a writhing extension of the natural shadows there and oh so easy to forget. Especially when one tried hard to do so. Another excuse, he knew. If only excuses could get things done; he'd be a hero by now. A hero with a talking shadow under his bed, but a hero nevertheless. Not that he wanted that. All Ash really wanted was to ignore the creature and the answers it no doubt held and continue with his plan. He just needed a well-stocked library. But, as the creature had, at least, the staid out of his mind, this time, he gave it a curt nod.

Why? it asked, voice full of genuine curiosity.

Ash chuckled, more to suppress the other sensation trying to claw its way up his throat. He had no time for an outburst now, be it anger, hysteria, or whatever else had decided to rear its ugly head. Yet, he couldn't blame the creature for stirring those emotions within him. The creature couldn't possibly understand what he was going through. Hell, he barely understood it himself, and the creature was even less human than he. Getting angry at it would just waste precious energy better applied to finding Heart and Mind. And that voice.

Try because you promised to help me, yet you've done nothing. Irritation colored his voice, making the words sharper than intended, despite his efforts.

Something about the creature's mangled and stilted speech drove him crazy. Or maybe, it was the way it shrank back whenever he raised his voice. Like he was the monster.

A ripple ran through the creature, casting wisps of shadow into the air around it. Too weak, it said and shrank in on itself.

Ah, that. Ash closed his eyes, the rising anger making way for far more familiar despair. He scrubbed a hand across his face and took a deep breath. The creature was staring at him. He felt the eyes it didn't have crawl over his skin. For all he knew, it was plotting his demise. And he'd never see it coming. Too dependent on the  creature's help, he couldn't allow himself to look too deep into its motivations. Wouldn't.

You know? he said after a moment,  then pushed off the window, and stepped forward to tower over his erstwhile ally. I don't think I believe that anymore.

The creature froze, stopping the constant and seemingly uncontrolled motion  of its form so completely, Ash worried he'd broken it. Truth, the creature said, more plea than statement. Truth. Strands of shadow rose from the creature's body, making it look more akin to a defensive porcupine than a...whatever it was.

Ash took a step back and straightened. Out of surprise not fear. The spikes were far too rounded to pose any real threat and didn't even come up to his knee. He frowned at the creature, really taking in its appearance for the first time. As if to make itself easier to inspect, the creature slunk forward, detaching completely from shadow cast by the bed.

You've shrunk, Ash said after a moment, surprised at just how much smaller the creature was now—small enough to fit into his hand should he decide to scoop it up. And its speech, while never quite matching the one in his nightmares, had deteriorated further.

He blinked. Maybe there was truth to the creature's claim.

The creature shuddered and deflated. Then it reared up again, standing just a little taller than the rim of Ash's shoes. The shuddering got worse as it obviously fought to retain that position, but after a moment, it collapsed in on itself with a whine. Mind? it asked and slunk toward Ash as if it meant to rub against his ankle. It had done that a few times back before he'd established a few ground rules. He warded it off with a raised hand as he took a demonstrative step back. No touching was rule number one, bold and underlined. Twice. Ash

The creature stopped abruptly and let out another whine, this one more desperate than the last, but it made no move to disobey his unspoken order. Its unquestioning obedience though suspicious, was one of the few things Ash liked about the creature.

No, he said. You've got words. Use them. When the creature met his demand with more whining, he added, Take your time.

He had no idea why the thing was so adverse to speaking. He supposed it took a lot less energy to invade a mind than to say a few simple words, but Ash had suffered a few too many unbidden guests in his head throughout his...since becoming aware. There was to be no further invading of his mind. Even if it would make communication far easier.

Hun...gry.

You're hungry? The puddle ate? Ash stared at it. Well. He shrugged. All and living things needed food, but somehow he got the feeling that, for once, the disjointed speech had nothing to do with weakness. The creature had hesitated because feeding it involved more than just giving it access to ever meager contents of his fridge; a more he wouldn't like.

Just what do you eat? And how? No stomach. No mouth.

The creature let out the near hiss, Ash had come to identify as its version of a weary sigh and shrank into a golf ball-sized disc.

Not food. Life, it said, voice so quiet that, for just a moment, Ash allowed himself to pretend he'd misunderstood. The moment passed. The bubble burst. He sucked in his lip and cast his mind back on the past few days, but other than the resident beggar not making an appearance since the rain started, he came up empty. No mystery illnesses or deaths.

You lied, then. Sickening anger coiled in Ash's stomach as images of the portal, the creature had promised to open for him, flashed through his mind. He tensed, hands curling into fists at his sides. The creature shrank back into the shadows with a plaintive whine, making itself indistinguishable from its surroundings. Good. Looking at it just made him angrier.

In an attempt to reign in his emotions, Ash turned back to the window. The fog still obscured most of the view, but a handful of people had ventured outside, wrapped in coats and hats pulled so low they couldn't possibly see past their own noses. Poor, lucky bastards.

I'm not going to let you go on a killing spree. The words didn't come easy. Heart and Mind were Ash's priority, not a bunch of strangers, who barely bothered to greet him when he wandered the halls of the motel in search for caffeine. Would anybody really care, if a few of them went missing? Mind would understand the necessity, but Heart—

Ash shuddered, appalled that he was even considering it. There has to be another way.

You.

Just one little word, spoken with the barest hint of hesitation, but it shattered Ash's anger as surely as Heart and Mind appearing out of nowhere would have and twisted it into something far less pleasant. Something that tasted a lot like the contents of a weeks old trashcan.

You want to kill me, he said, then to his surprise, snorted. Ash didn't want to die and he definitely feared death, but the creature had been here for days—starving itself. If