In Eden's Shadow

by Amanda Churi

  And yet the child neither spoke nor moved.

  “Clean this up,” he slurred, stumbling off down the hallway with flapping arms. “I’m going to bed. Wake me up, and I’ll clobber you.”

  A door slammed, and then nothing moved besides the fire.

  This doesn’t make any goddamn sense. Was there even a purpose to whatever I was seeing? Frankly, I learned to live for sin, and this was pretty damn depressing; the fractured, mystical spirit had yet to move from the chair, his posture the exact same as when the father held him.

  “That’s you.”

  “…What?” I inquired, my sight diverting to one of the ghosts as they stood. Their green eyes were slick, sharp, and that voice… It was the same one I heard during my fight with Satan.

  “You idiot, aren’t you supposed to have legendary hearing or something?” She thrust her hand in the motionless body’s direction. “That is Eero—or rather, all that’s left because of you.”

  “So, he does still exist,” I mused aloud, the ghost’s words confirming my suspicions. “But if he was not destroyed, I shouldn’t have—”

  She sighed loudly, heftily crossing her arms over her breasts. “Yeah, sorry about that. I kind of stepped in and saved him like usual. Poor guy can’t ever seem to hold his ground; he always ends up being the damsel in distress.” She looked over at the broken soul, a silent sigh pulling down her shoulders. “You’re not merciful, I realize that, but can’t you see that you won’t get back at Satan unless you accept Eero? Allow him to be a part of you? You know why Essences fall.”

  I scoffed, both irritated and amused that an Eyla was trying to lecture me. “Of course, I do, but look at him, how pathetic he is—fractured. He will only bring me to lows never hit before. I’d rather die an honorable death than become a mutt. Try to merge his soul with mine again, and I will personally cast him to the fledglings; that stunt almost got me killed.”

  “That stunt is the only reason I’m able to talk to you right now.”

  “And that stunt sealed my fate either way. I only have one cop-out left, and that’s assuming that He doesn’t try to double-cross me before I do Him.”

  The bold ghost did not reply, the sound of clinking glass capturing her attention. It managed to grasp mine as well, and I watched as one shuffle at a time the muted soul of Eero carefully rose and pushed the glittering hazards aside, making a thin, winding trail of safety. He continued to expand the road, pausing at several occasions when the journey became difficult, but before long, he had escaped the land mine, moving toward a worn door.

  He turned the handle very carefully. The door slowly opened with a tired creak until soon, another sound joined the cringeworthy chorus.

  It was a whimper—one that was just plain desperate. A ball of luminous white fur shone in a ray of dusty moonlight on a collapsing porch, two eyes blending in with the nefarious night behind them. Its tiny ears were down, and its tail was between its legs, a single paw lifting and poking at the broken soul. The eyes could not have been bigger if they tried, watering and rippling like a sea of black silk as they met the ghost.

  I loudly inhaled through my nose, a solid, human reflection appearing in the puppy’s glassy black eyes—one that I knew, even though I didn’t want to. So, that’s what you look like, bastard.

  “How can he still exist being so scattered?” I questioned gruffly as the puppy scrambled through the door and leaped into the arms of my second half. It ferociously licked his unclear face, but in its eyes, I could see Eero’s smile—one etched with a terrible pain that melted away as he buried his face into the puppy’s fluffy fur.

  “It’s true that Eero is hardly more,” the Eyla stiffly replied, “but hardly is all that matters, and we’re making sure that doesn’t change. So long as we keep him safe, even within the furthest recesses of your mind, he can still exist—access memories—but sadly, he himself is still lost… Unable to interact and feel unless he takes your role of the core. He can look… But he literally cannot touch all that he once had; even in happy memories like these, he’s merely a body, able to see the joy but not reexperience it.” She eyed me up. “You truly are despicable for doing what you did. I always hated Eero, but you outdid him by a mille passus. That takes skill.”

  “Yes, I do have a lot of that.”

  She huffed, flipping her fraying hair over her shoulder. “You know, it’s probably for the best that you can’t see him as he was. A self-conceited dimwit like you would get high off looking at your reflection 24/7.”

  The Eyla with brown eyes sighed, digging his chin into his wrists. “Why do I find that statement so ironic?”

  The green daggers in her eyes silently and violently killed him with a single stab. He shuddered, smashing his jaw against his chest and keeping it there.

  “You would have made a fine damned,” I observed, the Eyla’s eyes finding mine with unwavering hostility. “We like those who fight back with a little bite.”

  She hissed, a single string of white mist bulging on her forehead. “Sorry, but unlike you, I’m nobody’s puppet.” She smirked, the corners of her lips so tight and smug that it practically invited me to smack her. “But soon, you will come to your senses and realize that you are his puppet. In fact, you’re ours.” She threw out her arms in an exaggerated shrug with an explosive, bratty laugh. “I don’t think you understand! Satan told you that you don’t have a choice, and you really don’t! You’re doing what you do right now because you have to make it look like you’re listening to Him—and then, you can’t even take your time on your mission like you want because the fledglings are only growing. But then, should you decide to give in and recombine your soul with the broken Eero to put an end to all this mental torment, we have the upper hand. So… If you look at it like that, I’d say you lose no matter what. Best to give up now and pray that you can save yourself.” A cheeky glint cracked her iris right open and caused the pupil to violently combust. “But then again… Who do you pray to now, vagrant?”

  My chest burned with rage, a growl brewing in the furnace with such pressure that it rippled on my skin. Why was this so damn hard…? Why was there always another obstacle that just didn’t seem to have a way around it?

  No, that was wrong. It was slim, but I had a chance. I knew what I wanted to do, but how to execute it was another question…

  “You don’t know the first thing about me,” I grumbled. “You don’t know what I’m fighting for. None of you do, and you never will. Because unlike an Eyla—”

  The environment began to crumble, cascading from the ceiling and gradually washing away the memories that I dared not recall—memories that weren’t even mine. “I am not useless nor pointless.”

  “MOVE!”

  I was plunged—shot forward like a bullet through the remnants of the memory. It happened so fast that a blink and muffled grunt were all that I could muster before the ground gave way and tried to throw me back into Hell where it thought I belonged.

  My fall into the puppet’s pit lasted a heartbeat before I violently hit the ground stomach-first. My eyes malfunctioned—a million specks of a million colors appearing as floaters and temporarily blinding me. I groaned, rubbing my eyes into the backs of my wrists to clear up my vision. At first, I didn’t think it worked, but the more I blinked and bitched, the quicker the world settled.

  And boy, it truly was a whole ‘nother world.

  The atmosphere here did not ring with Nortora’s cries of pain or the hisses of deadly steam—it only came to life with the annoying hum of the genderless creature sitting in the far back of the cave.

  They sang to themselves on the flat perching rock they rested upon—not so much speaking but making small vocalizations of various pitches. Their head swayed from side to side, their entire torso going with it, but their hands remained straight and steady, one holding Coruscus and the other a needle bound to a large black spool. They plucked the root of the fallen tail, weaving the thread through it in smooth, intricate patterns. It
was amazing how graceful their movements were, a tailor’s prodigy, who could sew as easily as they could breathe.

  Of course, whether or not that thing had lungs was still a mystery to me.

  Their home was a glorious battlefield of queer pride—any color that you could have thought of existed there, hanging from the ceiling as strips of fabrics from all assortments. They had conjoined so many pieces and created their own flags, bandanas, bags, blankets, clothes, pillows—anything they wanted. The rock walls did not even show their bones; the creature kept their rigid, cold surfaces buried in comfort and warmth—you could have run at a wall full speed and not suffered a scratch.

  And it sparkled. Everything glittered and shimmered no matter its genetic makeup. A radiant white light was burning beneath the rock on which the puppet sat, giving life to the plush home; it escaped only through the slightest crack between the stone and smothered floor, and the strings crisscrossing the gap twisted and refracted the light in a star-like pattern, bringing space to the Underworld.

  “WHOAAA!”

  I looked up at the rain of brown hair dangling above me, scowling at Maeve’s gawking face. Only her head was visible, but the size of her amazed eyes made up for the rest of her hidden body.

  Korbu shoved himself up beside her, a single purple eye shooting down into the giddy caverns. “Interesting.”

  “Interesting?!” Maeve repeated. “This is gorgeous! Spectacular! Heart stabbing-throbbing-pounding-sweet-awesomeness! Get a better vocabulary!”

  Korbu’s eye dropped a level in hue. “Baffling.”

  “That’s better!” She reached down through the hole with her arms, grabbing the rims and slowly squirming forward.

  I huffed irritably. “What are you, a worm?”

  Her pupils shrank so quickly that they should have rebounded. “You have three seconds to move before this worm crushes you.”

  I first rolled my eyes and then my body out of the way.

  She tried to land from the ceiling with grace, but the best that she could do was fall flat onto her back and squeal like a pig. I did nothing to contain my smirk. “Cute.”

  She snarled like an animal. If I wasn’t already an arm’s length away, she might have bit me.

  “Make way!”

  Korbu plunged down next—one foot landing outside each of Maeve’s shoulders as he peered down on her surprised face. “Sorry, I didn’t have the patience to lend you three seconds.”

  “HUSHHH!”

  Our group looked to the mutant at once, who had resorted to standing like a flamingo. Their hands continued to weave and pull, one track of attention our way and the other absorbed by their hands. “You all are sooo noisy! Silence while I fix him, pleaseee!”

  With an irritated huff, I rose, brushing off my firm thighs and dirtying my smile with a choppy hiss. “What the HEAVEN are you talking about?!”

  They outstretched their tucked-up leg before it took back to hiding, oblivious of my seething urge to rip them apart. “Do you want to be whole againnn?”

  An image of my former host looking into the eyes of that puppy struck my heart with full force, pushing the loud throbs through my entire system. Does that dumbass somehow know?

  My silence prompted it to continue. “Seee, sure you do. Now, it will just be a moment more, and you and Coruscus will return to one another. Shhh…” Its peppy voice trailed away, their eyes closing in correlation with their speech until they were left sewing without even looking—and they still stood on one leg.

  Maeve folded her arms and sighed, wearily glancing around at the recluse’s home. “So, what? I guess we wait?”

  “Precisely,” the puppet replied. “Now shhh…!”

  Maeve scoffed, turning away with her hands on her hips. “Well… At least I have a change in scenery for a bit—this definitely is the nicest place I’ve seen for a few days now.”

  “Did you not take note of what their ‘threading’ is made of?” Korbu wondered.

  “Hm?” Maeve lifted her head and studied the endless realm of overhanging cloth, but no matter how hard she winced, nothing out of the ordinary came to her.

  Her twisted expression amused Korbu, but he made no further statement; I suppose that he honored her blindness.

  I didn’t. “They’re—”

  “Look over there!” Korbu quickly interrupted, sauntering away from Maeve as she continued to stare at the ceiling. He wrapped his clunky arm about my shoulder, keeping his rotten teeth close to my ear. “Cut her a break, would you? Did you ever bother to consider just how fragile the human mind is?”

  “I’m sure she’s been exposed to far worse.” I looked at him with a cautious side-glance, unable to ignore the softened edge his purple gaze bore. “Don’t fall for it.”

  “Pardon?”

  I stepped out of his embrace; I pushed out my chest so that the twisted, scorned Mark flashed straight at his horrendous face. “It’s because of her that I am suffering how I do now. Don’t let her trickery aura infect you—she is anything but innocent.”

  “I never thought she was,” he responded curtly. “But your obliviousness amuses me. In respect to your past, you have been ignorant toward her, but she truly is one of a kind… And behind her outward hostility, there is an unwavering devotion to your other half.”

  “Well, she’s shit outta luck, because that Eero is never coming back.”

  Korbu smirked, a slimy cackle surfacing with his suspicious glance. “You sure about that?”

  “Positive.”

  He scoffed, smiling before turning his sight back to our odd host, whose stance had not changed. “You keep thinking that.”

  His response brought gold fire to my eyes. I took a single, wide step forward, attempting to knock him back with my chest, but he did not stumble. “Whose side are you on, Korbu?”

  “Oh, I’m supposed to pick? Perhaps I prefer the role of ‘bystander.’” He casually stepped away, heading off in the direction of the mysterious designer. “Don’t forget, I had no intention of being involved in this little charade, but I will obey Satan—thankfully, He gave me no clear instructions.”

  I slammed my bunched fists down into my hips, snorting with such force that my nostrils burned. That walking dog treat. What the Heaven was he thinking? As much as I understood not helping me, siding with the enemy was unspeakable.

  But then again, he had no quarrel with Maeve like I did; all that Satan required was that he assist in taking down Gannon. How Korbu interpreted that was unknown to all but himself.

  And that meant I didn’t have to listen to a damn thing he said. “They’re dried intestines,” I spat from the corner of my mouth before following in the shi’s footsteps. I didn’t look back; the petrified squeal that exploded seconds later confirmed that I spoke loud enough.

  “Say, how much longer until you’re finished so that we can get going?” Korbu wondered, stopping at the foot of our host perched above on the grand rock. While it did not tower above the mutant’s little kingdom of death, it had enough height to where Korbu stood eye level with the puppet’s feet.

  “Should just be oneee more moment!” it squeaked. “I had to work some magic to fix this! The damage done was horrrific!”

  “You tell me,” I mumbled, leaning against the perch next to Korbu.

  “But I just did!”

  …Sigh… How was I bested by this thing again?

  “Okie dokieee!” They threw their free-standing foot down and whipped Coruscus in my direction, nearly hitting me in the face. “Your turn!”

  I blinked once. “What?”

  “It’s youuurrr turnnn! How else am I going to fix you?”

  The nub extending from my spine surged with a flush of agonizing energy. That was what they meant? Heck no.

  My shoulder defiantly faced them. “Simple. You aren’t going to fix us. I can manage just fine with it in its current condition. You tying it to my ass just makes it a velocity-dependent whip.”

  The puppet’s smile remained. T
heir long lashes smashed down onto their deformed face. “Oh, really?”

  Something about its tone unwillingly drew me back. “Oh, yes.”

  “Ohhh, ok… I see how it is…” Their shoulders dropped forward, both arms swinging like a pendulum while Coruscus scarred the grand stone with its lethal blade. The light beneath the rock bathed the creature in gluttonous shadows that inherited all but its single eye—one which began to flick back and forth uncontrollably, overtaken by some force beyond our knowledge.

  “Get back!” Korbu roared. He plunged his fist into his chest, ripping out his katana. “Trust me, we’ve never been hesitant to kill!”

  “Oh? Oh, oh, oh, ooohhh?! Funny! NEITHER HAVE I—!”

  A raging comet shot between Korbu and I. Once I processed what was happening, the puppet was already one with the air, a trail of burning threadcrumbs flying from them. Their plushy body squeaked like a toy when the mutant crashed into the wall, and the puppet shrieked upon softly hitting the ground, flailing every appendage and smacking their hair in rapid, forceful swats to extinguish the torch their locks had become.

  The attacker pushed right past us, hauling herself up onto the rock. She never glanced back at us; she could focus on no one but the thrashing doll. Her fist twinkled in a sea of auburn and orange embers, held right below the nose as she debated whether or not to shoot off another flare.

  “HOT HOT HOT! WHY IS IT SO HOTTT?!” A headbutt strong enough to break the toughest of skulls plowed into the rock wall, the puppet finally emerging victorious after grinding their scalp down—so much so that droplets of stuffing began to flutter around their slowly calming body. When the flames had been replaced by wisps of smoke, the doll collapsed into a heap of cloth, sighing graciously.

  Maeve cleared her throat, the creature’s head immediately spinning to face her. A surprised gasp plucked the strained strings of their parted mouth. “You! How dareee you touch meee! I’ll have you know that that can be defined as assault, young lady! Do you know what—?”