by N. Phillips
Taken aback by her story, the movement of my legs shut down as my mind could only focus on the horror she had to endure. Watching her walk ahead and grab some ingredients off the shelves, I saw someone who I could relate to. Someone who could understand me and vice-versa.
But just what were we, exactly? And what caused us to have these capabilities brought about from death and despair?
“You don’t wanna hear the rest?” she turned around a few feet in front of me and asked.
“Y-yeah. Aight.”
We sat down on the bench near the restrooms before she continued. “So yeah, me and my mom ran away and went to the police station. I was freakin’ out while explaining to the cops what happened, but of course they didn’t believe me, obviously—especially when I told them about somethin’ I forgot to mention to you.”
“What did you leave out?”
She took a deep breath. “The shroud. It consumed the guy’s body, like takin’ over him or whatever. I can’t explain, but it made the whole situation feel even worse.”
I nodded with my eyes to the white floor. Her experience seeing the shroud was similar to mine whenever it appeared.
“The cops were dicks,” she said. “They laughed and claimed they’d look for the guy who stole my mom’s purse, but all that came after were these men in black suits following us wherever we went. After a while, we couldn’t deal with it anymore, so here I am now.”
“Damn.” The word escaped my lips. “Any signs of them still following you?”
“No, and I take different routes every time I go somewhere, regardless of how long it’ll take me to get from A to B. I’m not tryin’ to bring any attention to myself.”
Well, that explained why she was always late to school in the morning despite leaving out before me. I just had one more question to ask.
“About that bald man,” she scoffed at the mentioning of him, “did you know he had a giant shroud surrounding him?”
“Not until you told me, no, but I always caught a bad vibe from him. He’s the reason why my mom was able to find a place to live up here though, so I can’t complain too much. He’s supposedly some big shot businessman who she bumped into in the city. He kept tryin’ to get her to move up here because this is where he lives, but I wasn’t feelin’ it until what happened with the shroud. So, we basically used his offer as a way to leave Harlem.”
Man, did she have a crazy life. I wasn’t sure what to say next, so a moment of awkward silence followed after until my cell phone vibrated. It was a message from Tory.
Where yall at? Did u get her number yet?”
I texted back, lol no. We’re outside the restrooms over by self-checkout.
Ashanti turned to me. “I’mma go pay for this stuff now so we can get outta here.”
“Yeah, cool.”
We walked over to the registers, but as usual, hardly any employees were there at the checkout counters, causing long lines of people waiting for the only two that were available. Ashanti turned the cart back around to self-checkout, but that was packed as well, leading her to groan and complain.
While waiting, I caught a glimpse of something familiar, yet terrifying. Maybe I’m just remembering last night, I thought. But no, it resurfaced, cloaking an elderly man’s body in darkness.
“S-Shanti, you see it?” I asked her. Trust me, giving Ashanti a shortened nickname right then and there was not intentional. It came from wanting to quickly get her attention.
“Yeah, I see it. This is not good at all.”
The man, who had gray hairs and wrinkly skin, growled before he went on a tirade about the price of an item, causing those waiting in line to back away from him. His menacing voice became deeper and more eerie with each word, and I was certain we were witnessing the shroud’s influence firsthand.
“This doesn’t make any damn sense. The sign says it’s on sale, so why the hell am I being charged so much for an air conditioner when it’s almost summer? Companies and the government don’t give a shit about us. They only care about money with these ridiculous prices and fucking taxes on top of that.”
Tory walked up to me and Ashanti and asked, “Yo, why that old dude buggin’?”
“He’s being controlled by the shroud,” she answered him. “Somethin’ bad is gonna happen.”
Tory narrowed his eyes and examined the man. “Shroud? I don’t see nothin’. All I hear is an angry white man gettin’ mad over taxes. To be fair though, taxes are like microtransactions, so I hate’em too.”
“This ain’t a joke,” I said to Tory with my eyes glued to the elderly man. An employee and a security guard soon approached him.
“Excuse me,” the female employee began, “I’m sorry, but that item isn’t on sale anymore, and you’re causing a disturbance in the store.”
“You think so?” the man replied with a glare. “Maybe a ruckus is needed to get those corporate assholes to listen to our demands. I am a senior citizen in desperate need of an AC. This heat is killing me, and all I want is to be comfortable in my own home. I want to feel the cold. Why can’t I have that? Give me that.”
The man shouting in the woman’s face caused the guard to step in. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’ll escort you to—”
Like the rest of us in the store, the security guard froze at the sudden decrease in temperature and the trail of ice forming underneath the man’s feet toward the different sections of the building. The glistening frost on the floor suddenly cracked open just as our mouths did to unleash horrid screams from the icicle shards magically shooting toward us.
His want for cold was manifested. What the fuck?
Me and Ashanti pushed past those running from the frozen projectiles and slid on the frozen floor to hide behind a checkout counter. “Where’s Tory?” I shouted over the wails of pain from those being pierced around us.
“Over there,” she yelled back, pointing at the apparel section across from where we were hidden. He was crouched down, hiding behind a small shelf full of clothes.
We locked eyes through the crowd of people still running for their lives. “What the hell is this shit, bro?” he called out to me. “We’re gonna die.”
His words must’ve been a beacon for the winds of death because a bone-chilling breeze shot its way through the doors of the supercenter and blew away the stacks of clothing he used for cover. Tory could do nothing but run for his life at the sight of ice shards launching toward him.
Seeing him flee in danger, I stood up to chase after him, but Ashanti pushed me aside and bolted in his direction before my feet could even move. If this were any other moment, I’d question if she ran track before moving here. But now was not the time; they were both in serious danger.
I followed behind her through the chaos and saw Tory use everything from clothes racks, bookshelves, and other means of defense to shield himself from the ice that shattered on impact. His efforts to survive seemed pointless, though, as more swarms of frozen needles manifested to inject him with a cold death.
“Watch out,” I exclaimed, spotting a couple of shards darting toward him. Ashanti leaped on top of him and took the blow as the two fell to the floor, her white T-shirt soaking in blood from a shard that grazed the side of her abdomen.
“Fuck,” she cried out, rolling her body off him. Her screams only got louder as Tory helped her to remove the sharp piece of ice before grabbing a shirt off the ground and applying pressure to the open wound.
I rushed to their aid and stretched my arms out to protect them from further harm, but the ice levitating in the air flew away just as sparks came down from the ceiling. Only the sunlight from outside the building and the glistening frost of the glaciers around us created a glow in the now darkened supercenter.
“Turn back time,” I urged Ashanti. A huge lump was felt in my throat at her response.
“I already did. To save your friend.”
The sound of crushed ice crackling on the floor became closer as the elderly man m
ade his way over to us. I looked over at Tory in desperation. “Take Ashanti and hide somewhere.”
Whether it was out of fear or from the cold, his mouth shook. “O-okay.”
Tory pulled Ashanti aside on the icy floor while I braced myself to confront the man. We were now only a few feet away from each other, but his dark, overbearing presence made it feel like he was right on top of me.
“You kids are the only ones left,” he said with a demonic voice. That alone made me wanna cower away. “What are you gonna do, huh? Try to come at me? You’ll end up like everyone else.”
Looking around at the dead bodies with gaping holes in them, he was probably right, but I had no other choice but to put my headphones over my ears, pray for a miracle, and fight.
Please work, I begged in my head while hitting play on a song. Seeing the shroud circulate around the man, I knew my wish was granted the instant a jolt shot through my body and objects began to vibrate.
This man ain’t know what he was in for, but I was ready to show him.
Charging in with a clumsy punch because of how slippery the floor was, my fist failed to connect with his jaw due to a brick of ice manifesting in front of him and taking the hit. I had more control over my actions this time, but I couldn’t get used to an unexplainable force assisting in moving my body so aggressively.
Looking at my red knuckles, I held back my cries of pain to avoid showing weakness. That scream was soon let out once the man struck back with a blow to my chest that slid me back against a wooden shelf.
I wasn’t gonna go down without a fight, though. I needed to go harder.
Seeing him step forward with his hands behind his back, I stood still and waited for his attack to avoid losing balance like last time. What helped my plan was the hard-hitting bass and emphatic voice of the rapper on the chorus, which somehow made me feel stronger and capable of delivering a punch that shook the area once the man was in striking distance. He flew across the supercenter on impact and out of view, giving me time to take a breather.
Turning around to look at Tory hiding with Ashanti, I could see his mouth moving with a panicked expression, but his words were inaudible because of the loud music playing in my ears. I was afraid of taking off my headphones out of fear of losing my power, and the decision to keep them on saved my life once I turned back around and saw several icy daggers shooting toward me. A twist of my body helped to evade two of the blades headed straight for my chest, but not the one that penetrated my left arm.
The man reentered the scene with a smile and an open mouth that I assumed was devilish laughter overpowering my hollers of agony. What the hell do I need to do to stop this guy? My desperate thoughts came the second the song ended, leading to more distress. The situation was not looking up for me as I pulled the sharp weapon out of my arm and saw blood drip onto the glittering blue surface.
The man’s lips moved as frozen daggers manifested above him with each of the blades pointing in my direction. At this point, I thought it was all over for me, but the next track in my shuffled list of songs played, and a calm, euphoric sensation swirled in my chest before flowing into my arms and legs. When the R&B vocals whispered into my ears, the slow tempo somehow relaxed my nerves despite the fear of what’s to come.
No matter the danger, my body was ready to embrace it.
The daggers fired like torpedoes, and though my teeth were clenched together tightly in anticipation, my legs were nimble and looser than they’ve ever been. Something about the soft melody of the song made me feel lighter than the rap music that gave me strength.
With such agility, my body swayed left and right to evade the daggers as I slid across the supercenter like a figure skater. Watching his icy weapons shatter after failing to hit their mark, the man summoned a brick of ice in front of him in preparation for my attack. Sucks for him that I was already expecting his defense and dashed behind him with style to deliver a punch with my uninjured hand. He fell to the ground face-first, and just like that, he was out cold; but the shroud was more active than ever. It circled the man’s body like a tornado, possibly trying to revive him and take control once again.
At the sight of it, my hands started to vibrate before my arms extended out on their own in a pushing motion to release a shockwave toward the shroud. The force sent the dark entity into a frenzy until it shrieked and fled the building. The ice consuming the supercenter rapidly melted away afterward.
It was over. Finally.
Removing my headphones, I sat on the floor in exhaustion while looking over at Tory. Man were we relieved, but we ain’t have time to celebrate. Ashanti needed to get to the hospital.
“Let’s go, bro,” Tory urged, coming over to help me to my feet. “We need to get outta here.”
We both carried Ashanti outside, where numerous cops and EMTs pulled up in front of the supercenter. Our lives were forever changed after this incident. Whether that was a good thing, or a bad thing remained to be seen.
CHAPTER 4
Walking up the next day was rough with my arm still in pain from the frozen blade that pierced my skin. At least Ashanti’s life wasn’t in as much danger as I thought, and she was able to return home from the hospital later that night with only a few stiches. It would seem we all came out alright in the end, but the one who was affected the most from it all was Tory, who was shaken up by the events that unfolded.
Walking out my room holding my bandaged arm, I stepped into the living room and saw my mom sitting at the brown kitchen table. She had her head in her palm with a frown on her face until she saw me.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“I’m good. What about you, though??”
She looked me in the eyes. “I’m not good, Zayn. That man who attacked you and killed all of those people was the person I’ve been taking care of for the past two years.”
My jaw dropped. “You serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious. What I don’t understand is why he did it. He had some anger issues, but he never wanted to hurt anyone. It doesn’t make any sense.”
After hearing Ashanti’s story, I decided not to tell my mom or the police what really happened at the supercenter. Being followed everywhere and possibly kidnapped by government agents was not a life I wanted to live.
Besides, this wasn’t the only secret I was keeping from my mom. Maybe the biggest, but not the most personal.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, standing out of her seat. “I’m about to start the beef stew.”
“That sound aight, but I got plans to eat somewhere else,” I replied. Last night before leaving the hospital, Ashanti’s mother invited me and Tory over for Sunday dinner as a thank you for saving her daughter. The thought was appreciated, but I wasn’t sure if Tory was up for it.
“Alright. Have fun, but be safe,” she said, grabbing her cell phone off the table. “I’m going to call the agency and see if they have another case open. Rent is due in two weeks, and I may have to use our small savings if there’s no work available.”
“You’ll get somethin’, Mom. Don’t worry too much about it.”
She didn’t reply and put the phone to her ear. I hated the feeling of us struggling, but it was like this sometimes, even if my mom kept steady work. It was enough frustration to consider looking for a summer job to help out.
Stepping out of the house, I decided to pass by Ashanti’s place and head over to Tory’s spot. He lived in the projects to the left of the complex with his older brother, Darius. Other than Tory being shorter and having a lighter skin complexion, the two looked the same, almost twins even. But that’s where the similarities end because their lifestyles couldn’t be more different.
Walking into the yellow building that was dimly lit, me and the security guard gave each other a nod before I made my way up the stairs to the second floor, where Tory lived. I had texted him I was coming through five minutes prior, so he already had the front door unlocked.
A faint smell of weed permeated the
air after stepping inside, which led me to believe that Darius was either home or recently left out. No one but me occupied the tan living room though until Tory walked out his bedroom.
“What’s good, bro,” he greeted me with a dap while avoiding eye contact. I could tell he wasn’t happy from the absence of his typical upbeat persona.
“I’m cool. You good?”
“I’m aight. Been tryin’ to process all the shit that went down yesterday, you know? But it’s whatever. Lemme do one more round of Street Fighter and I’ll be ready to go.”
We went into his room where posters of video game characters were plastered on the walls. I sat at the edge of his bed while he took a seat in his gaming chair in front of his TV and computer monitor.
“Hey, can I ask you somethin’ real quick?” he questioned.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
He sat quietly for a moment before asking, “You think chaos is the only way to make change? Like if people don’t hear you, is violence the only way to get their attention?”
His words had me stuck. I knew his mind was on something serious, but I wasn’t expecting this.
“To be honest, bro, I don’t know how to answer that. Sometimes, it do be feelin’ like words ain’t enough. But I don’t know if violence is the answer after that. It gotta be something else you can do to be seen and heard besides chaos.”
“Cool, cool,” he mumbled. “I’m just asking cause that old head said a lot while you two were fightin’. The part about our voices being silenced and only destruction can create change kinda latched onto me. I mean, I ain’t really believe him, but sometimes, it do feel that way like you said, you know? Shit’s crazy.”
“Yeah, I feel you.”
Tory was shook up by the incident more than I realized, and it was clear the old man had a strong, negative influence on him. The right things to say wasn’t flying out my mouth at the time to change that, so I decided to chill back and hope the game have a positive effect on him.