Shadow Puppets

"Don't trust anyone wearing red shoes."

-

July 1, 2005.

Sunny.

But in Shi Gui's memory, there was no sunlight that day. There was only a sliver of light, thin and sharp as a blade, cutting through the darkness in front of him beneath the door.

He couldn't remember why he'd been there. His memories were like old photographs soaked in water: blurred images, nothing but vast stretches of impenetrable gloom and a streak of light so clear it seemed capable of scorching his retinas.

He had followed a woman's screams to find his way.

The sound hadn't entered through his ears. It had crawled up his spine, cold and clammy.

Drawn by the sound, he trudged through the viscous darkness, one step sinking deeper than the last.

At last, he pressed himself against the door.

The sour stench of rotting wood and the suffocating weight of dust accumulated over the years forced their way into his nose.

He held his breath and brought his eye close to the slit of light.

Inside the room,

a woman was pinned to a table, struggling like someone drowning.

The man pinning her down looked ordinary. Only his eyes were different, vacant as two deep wells, with no glimmer of light in them.

A flash of silver glinted in the man's hand.

It wasn't a knife, not exactly.

It was more like a streak of moonlight made solid, a strand of tangible cold. It began to glide over the woman's skin, moving from her heaving chest to her taut neck, then to the fingers curled in fear...

The silvery gleam moved with an almost tender gentleness, sliding over every contour and missing none of the faintest creases between her fingers.

As if it were tracing a work of art.

There were no wounds, no blood.

Only the woman's eyes, widening as they lost focus, and her body finally going limp in deathly silence.

Then Shi Gui saw it.

A human figure cut entirely out of darkness, its edges distinct, its interior an emptiness darker than the surrounding gloom.

It was the woman's shadow.

It stood up without a sound, like a prisoner breaking free of its chains, stretching and extending along the wall.

It seemed to sense Shi Gui's gaze and gently turned its head.

It had no eyes, no face, but Shi Gui knew.

It was looking at him.

It was free.

-

Many years later, every detail of July 1, 2005, still haunted him, dragging him back to that door on countless sleepless nights.

He turned the fear of that moment over and over in his mind.

What he had witnessed wasn't murder, but something quieter and more fundamental in its horror.

After that, Shi Gui never saw the woman again. Nor did he see it.

But where could it have gone?

Most importantly, that day, had it... really seen him?

Theme: What you see may not be real. Keep searching and exploring