Sometimes shadows can be very scary. This story was published in a webzine in 2006.

Shadow In The Wood

It was late afternoon and the day was turning to dusk. The sun moved behind the trees and a chill permeated the woods. Slithering shadows chased after the two figures moving down the old trail. As they made their way out of the overgrown forest, the smaller figure turned back to catch a final glimpse of the watcher in the wood. Grabbing the sleeve of his older companion, he tugged. Fear swelled within his gut and his eyes widened.
“Dad, there’s a big scary creature in that old oak tree.”
“Don’t be silly Charlie, it’s just late afternoon shadows. They can play tricks on your eyes….make you see things that aren’t really there.”
“But dad, it was a big shadow…. a scary shadow in the wood!”
The man took hold of the boy’s hand and pulled him along the path leading back to the newly purchased vacation cabin. Nearly twelve years later, the boy still dreamed of that afternoon walk in the woods. He could not forget the feeling of malice, and the shadow lurking within the boughs of that old tree.
Charlie Slater was a bright young college student with a penchant for writing. But with college behind him Charlie found himself bound to his father’s wishes, working in the family business. Although it was a lucrative source of income, living his father’s dream was not for Charlie. His goal was to be a writer. After college he joined the family business to repay the family for their investment in his education. But outside the office, Charlie worked to hone his literary skills, penning numerous short stories, none of which had made it to print.
After Charlie’s graduation from college, the family spent most weekends at their cabin west of town. His father enjoyed casting about for trout and his mother spent her time painting woodland watercolor scenes. Charlie’s twin sisters enjoyed reading Charlie’s short stories - the scary ones that often came to him in quiet moments away from work. At night they squealed, as they read aloud from dark gothic works detailing grisly scenes of young maidens in distress. Becoming the primary source of sleepless nights in the cabin, the girls were forbidden to read Charlie’s newer and more gruesome works.
For inspiration, Charlie hiked along the creek east of the cabin and one autumn day, something in those woods pulled him towards a spot upstream from the cabin. It was the old oak tree, the same one that had harbored the shadow creature of his youth. The event had been seared into his mind, and Charlie felt the need to revisit that spot. As he wandered towards the open grotto he came upon the tree. Immediately, Charlie found renewed inspiration near its tentacle-like roots. A story about the shadow, his creative mind commanded him, and like an artist converging on a new canvas, he set about his task.
On that very spot, Charlie penned his best work, titled “A Shadow in the Wood”. It was a dark fantasy about a menacing entity within an old oak tree, whose branches ensnared anyone trespassing under its bows. That evening, Charlie snuck the new manuscript under door of his twin sisters’ bedroom with a note that read,
“I’m sure you girls will like this one, but please, no squealing”.
Later that night, Charlie and his parents were awakened by screams coming from the twins’ bedroom. At first Charlie chuckled, thinking that his story had caused their squeals. But then he heard one of the girls crying out in pain. First to reach their door, Charlie attempted to open it but was halted by an unknown force. The sounds of the girls choking caused him to panic, so he threw himself against it. The door flew open and all was dark except for a small table lamp on a dresser. From the dim light, Charlie could see a grotesque shadow above the girls. A black mass hung from the ceiling. Extending out, two massive shadow arms held the girls in a death grip. There was no form to the body, just a random ink-like mass hovering over their beds. Quickly, Charlie closed the door behind him. The shadow was just as described in his new story, and it tossed the girls about the room like rag dolls.
The light, he thought, I need to dissolve the shadow in the light.
Charlie flicked the switch by the door and the room illuminated in a bright yellow flash. Instantly, the girls were released and the shadow slithered through the window into the night. The two teens slumped onto their beds and Charlie opened the door letting his parents into the room. Visibly shaken, they pushed past him to attend to the girls. The sisters were alive, but with welts on their throats from the unknown assailant. The outside window to their room was open and Charlie’s father looked out in an attempt to spot the intruder. It was very dark and heavy clouds covered the moon above the canopy of trees. He turned to his son.
“Damn, I can’t see anything Charlie! Who attacked the girls?”
“I don’t know, dad. It must have been burglars. When I came in they fled. By the time I flicked the switch, all I could see was a dark figure climbing out of the window.”
Charlie’s mom called the 911 operator, noting that it would take time before the paramedics could reach them. Charlie offered to drive to the sheriff’s station for help. His parents agreed and his father retrieved a rifle to guard the cabin. As Charlie left the room he noticed his manuscript on the floor. Bending over he picked it up, an attempt to cover up his involvement. Then he stuffed the pages into his jacket and dashed out.
As Charlie drove to the sheriff’s office, he wondered if the girls understood that the story had come to life before their eyes. Horrified, he realized that the shadow became a real life nightmare for them all. It now existed outside of his story and must be stopped. The shadow contained all the characteristics of his story, but as he surmised, it had also showed fear - fear of the light. The overhead light temporarily saved his sisters, but Charlie wondered what it might do next? It attacked the girls in their cabin, nearly a mile from the old tree. The shadow was no longer confined; it was now free to roam.
After he made his report to the police, Charlie drove back to the spot where his story came to life. He knew that the shadow would be there, waiting for him, seeking its revenge for a missed opportunity. It was almost midnight when Charlie got back to the dirt road off the camp site. It took him another fifteen minutes to make it to the old tree. As he walked the moon revealed itself from behind the clouds, and with the help of its reflection, the tree cast shadows against the backdrop of the river. The knurled branches protruding from its trunk reminded Charlie of immense arthritic fingers and they beckoned to him as he made his way along the path.
Hoping to scare his creation into submission, Charlie picked up a rock. But his fear was taking hold of him, causing his hands to shake. He was again that little boy holding onto fears of the unknown but without his father by his side for protection. Charlie’s hand gripped tightly around the rock. With every step his feet stumbled over unseen forest debris. As the young man came up to the leafless monstrosity he noticed something stirring within its branches. Suddenly, a massive winged figure flew down and perching on a tree branch above his head. The shadow had form now, like an elongated buzzard, with large outstretched wings. It cackled menacingly as he looked upon its ebony face.
“Why have you come here with that rock? Do you mean to do me harm?”
“I have come to destroy you” Charlie said as he pulled back his arm.
“Well now, how do you suppose that you will do that? You created me in your mind and set me free on paper. Would you sacrifice yourself to remove me from this dimension? It was I who drew you to this spot. Your talent released me through your words. Destroy me and you destroy what you love best. Can you do that? I think that you are too vain and too scared to try.”
Looking up at the mocking figure, Charlie noticed its eyes. There was paranormal life in that ghostly form. Then it came to him and he understood what he must do. The black mass had revealed its physical mortality from above. Charlie dropped the rock and pulled the manuscript from his jacket. Spotting the written pages the shadow bird flew down and its massive talons grabbed at them. Charlie held on and the pages began to tear. Seeing a sign of fright in the shadow’s ebony eyes, he realized that it was the printed story that gave the shadow life. Now Charlie was even more determined to defeat the shadow. With all his might he yanked hard, causing the bound pages to shred into a mass of torn papers.

“Ayah”, the shadow bird screamed as he whirled about in an elongated death spiral. Its body separated into fragments of blackened dust that hovered aimlessly in the canopy of the tree. Then, as the nighttime breeze fell still, the evil fragments fell onto the ground around the tree. Charlie noticed as they collected around its base and disappeared into its roots. The shadow was dismantled for the time being. As it retreated into the old oak tree, the shadow resolved to hide there until the next opportunity to free itself from the wood.
But Charlie was a smart young man. That next morning he told his father the truth about his writing and of the fight with the shadow over the pages of the story. Although wary of the young man’s tale, he agreed to help free Charlie from the demon that he created. Together, they went back to the old tree in the clearing. While Charlie’s father was dousing the trunk with kerosene, he heard faint whispers coming from within its leafless canopy.
“That is the sound of evil,” Charlie said. He lit a pack of book matches and threw it onto the rotting old trunk. As they watched the tree engulfed in smoke and flame, Charlie remembered his boyhood and the first time he saw the shadow in the wood and could write again without fear of unleashing evil in the world.