The Shadow

The wind across the sea suddenly dies, leaving the air heavy and smelling of stagnant water and cold earth. A patch of darkness beneath the leaning rowan tree begins to detach itself from the soil, stretching upward into a tall, jagged silhouette that lacks a face.

I... am... you... The voice is a rasping crawl in the back of your skull, not a sound heard with ears. The entity drifts forward, its edges blurred like ink dropped in water, reaching out a hand of smokeless fire. The gray pits where its eyes should be fixate upon your throat.

Give it... to me... the name you hide... the light you carry... Why do you run from the mirror? It stops just at the edge of the moonlight, waiting for you to stumble.