Shadow Ink

By Gregory Coley

Youve got to be kidding me! What was I thinking Yelled Malcolm as he repeatedly hit the backspace button in an angry frenzy. Malcolm was a writer. He had been working day and night on his newest mystery thriller novel Chasing Shadows. He was extraordinarily ordinary in appearance. He had brown hair, on his goatee, mustache and shaggy hair hanging in his eyes that was a few months past needing a severe cutting. All the time of sitting at home doing nothing but eating and writing was starting to show. The wrinkled, food stained shirt hung over the ever growing stomach. He was the classic stereotypical writer. He got into writing for the same reason most people do, at least the people who care about the craft and not the money. Well, maybe not like most people because he was pushed to the extreme. At the age of nineteen the stress of life and people turning on him sent him into a mental breakdown. He went into a state hospital for a mental rehabilitation, which lasted for about 6 months. Now, at twenty five he has immersed himself in writing, the best way of dealing with the world he has found. I cant keep staying up like this, Im so tired I feel like Im about to die said Malcolm as he grabbed his coffee from the desk and collapsed into the cushy leather couch in his office. I just cant think of an ending, James Storm has been my character for two other novels and I still dont understand him, maybe I should just kill him off said Malcolm to himself as he ran his fingers through his hair and he leaned back on the couch. As he laid there thinking about the direction of his latest novel he thought he was hearing noises but he decided he was just tired and dismissed it. Im going crazy, Im not hearing anything. I mean I live alone and its 3AM Im probably hallucinating again. He sighed as he rubbed his eyes. Just then all his senses became alert with smell leading the way. Smoke, he smelled smoke. He jumped off the couch and ran downstairs to the kitchen. What he saw there confused all his senses leaving him speechless and frozen in place.

You like peppers in your omelet right? Sorry, first round got away from me asked the wild haired young man with a smirk as he glanced at the black hunk of charcoaled food in the sink. Youreyoure stuttered Malcolm as he tried to find his words. Im James Storm, detective extraordinaire, you should know, you wrote me to life he said as he cracked two eggs into a bowl. How is this possible? asked Malcolm as he nervously sad at the island in the kitchen. Well my guess would be you fell asleep trying to figure out how to kill me off said James with an edge in his voice as he mixed the peppers and other ingredients in a bowl. I uh Dont worry about it Malcolm, I dont take it personal. I embody all you want to be and my life crumbles when you cant sort yours outlife imitating art Soyou dont mind being killed off? asked Malcolm puzzled as James put an omelet in front of him. I didnt say that genius, I said I understand why you think its needed. Why not deepen my character? You know, give him a family and have him train his sons to be detectives or something without shooting yourself in the foot said James leaning on the island across from Malcolm. I like that idea! Thank you so much I wish I had thought of it! You did technically. said James as he removed a glass from the cabinet. The glass slipped out of his hand in what seems like slow motion and what seems like hours later the glass hit the tile floor. Shattering into hundreds of pieces, it shot tiny diamond like shard across the floor. Malcolm woke with a start lying on the couch. He was like a young boy on Christmas morning as he shot off the couch into his computer chair and began typing up ideas for this new character. Wish I had slept long enough for my subconscious to tell me what to name this girl said Malcolm to himself with a chuckle. Hum, JanetOr Brandi? Oh, I know! Anna, ill name her Anna Storms. He said leaning back in his computer chair.
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He was shaken from his reverie by the sound of music playing. What the? Where is that coming from? he grumbled as he got to his feet and walked into the hall. The music was clearly coming from downstairs in the living room but who turned it on? Malcolm lived alone. He scratched the back of his head as he sleepily descended the stairs. As he reached the bottom of the stairs he saw somebody at the stereo with a big smile on his face. As Malcolm got closer he couldnt believe what he saw, this man at the stereo and five clones of this man around the room. A total of six of this man, this clone of Malcolm. What is going on tonight?!? screamed Malcolm as he looked at the scene in the living room. All six versions of him froze in place, and then the one by the radio turned off the radio. Hello Malcolm they all said in unison. The one that was messing with the radio approached him and said Hi, ImBrain; Im guessing you fell asleep and youre still sorting things out, we are, part of a whole. We are parts of you. Uh Malcolm couldnt even speak. You see were parts of your personality. Im your logical intelligent side. That misguided fool on the couch scribbling away at some poetic masterpiece, thats heart. Hum, that loud ranting fool that wont be still that is- Im going to guess anger? said Malcolm with a smirk. You would be correct brain continued. Oh let me see, the one wasting his life in video games over there, he is the eternally child-like joker. I see, well those are definitely parts of me, but who are the last two? asked Malcolm drawing his attention to the final two clones. They were in the corner, one verbally lashing the other. Those poor souls, they are always at war within your soul. The stronger of the two, is confidence. He is forever disgraced and angered at his more prominent brother, shyness. said brain with a final sigh. What is this supposed to teach me? Its pointless said Malcolm as he turned and started up the stairs.
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You have to see the world and people as three dimensional. They have layers and are complicated you must always remember that in both life and writing! brain called to him as Malcolms vision shimmered and he awoke with his head on the keyboard back in his office. He sat up dazed and confused, wiping the drool from his chin. Whatwas in that coffee? he asked himself looking into the empty mug. Hello Malcolm said a female voice from behind him. I know that voice, but, argh I mustve fallen asleep again, hello Anna. said Malcolm as he spun around him his computer chair to face the direction of the voice. He saw a girl, about twenty six, with black and pale blue eyes sitting on the couch Indian style smiling at him. It was Anna, his only friend in the world who had died in a car crash about six months ago. I cant believe its you! He said with a huge smile as he sat on the couch. Ive missed your smile Malcolm; you never seem to show it anymore. She said giving him a hug. When you died I kind of, faded out of life and my writing caught me before impact, mostly. You cant shut yourself away, youve lost your muse because you stopped experiencing life said Anna with her classic knowing look. I stopped experiencing life because you died Anna Do I need to take my spectral fist a beat life back into you? She asked raising her eyebrows. No, I-Malcolm started to say. He saw what looked like a bright flash of light outside his office window and it distracted him. You okay kiddo? Anna asked. Yeah, I, umdid you see that? See what? she asked, confused. That-
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There it was again, the bright light outside. He ran to the window to look outside, but the light was gone. Leave it alone my friend; you wont like what you find said Anna leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. Dont scratch the surface. The Light showed again, brighter than ever. Malcolm stumbled back, covering his eyes with his right forearm. It did no good; the light flooded his vision making everything white. As his eyesight came back to him he saw a doctor looking down at him shining a light in his eyes. Malcolm tried to sit up but he was restrained to the bed. Ah good evening Mr. Williams. said the Doctor placing the lighted tool in the pocket of her white coat. Whats going on? asked Malcolm, starting to panic. Calm down Malcolm, youll hurt yourself again, Ive been telling you this for years but you never listen. She said with a pitying look. Youve been here for six years and every day is the same, heres something to help you sleep. The Doctor held a syringe up to the light to check for air. She inserted the needle and slowly pushed the liquid into Malcolms arm. Placing the needle back into her pocket she rubbed Malcolms arm with gauze and walked toward the door. Ill see you tomorrow Malcolm, and the day after that and the day after that The doctor said with a sigh, closing the door. Malcolms heart raced as he lay there, unable to move. What was going on? Then, before his watery, unblinking eyes his vision blurred. He was once again at his desk frantically hitting the backspace key in anger.