I'm Nobody's Shadow Novels & Stories

But there she found no one at the scene, not even a soul round the lonely cabin of Master Ethan containing only her. And if no one was here then where did the sound come from? Sylendra's heart started racing million times faster at that moment from even the thought of someone barging inside while she was changing her garments and seeing her in that state. It was making her embarrassed and very disappointed about her own self. She still looked around in caution but yet found none at the sight again, it increased her panic more. There was definitely someone. The invader might be in the same space as her and hiding somewhere away from her eyes. Sylendra gulped in horror before roaming her eyes

They only wrapped my foot up in some old rags and called it a day. That kind of pain had stuck with me, but they seemed to have forgotten all about it. I looked up, meeting the eyes of the crowd. "The person in those photos had all ten toes. It was clearly not me." Nelson backed me up, saying, "Jennifer had a tattoo with my name on her lower back when we were together. She was scared it'd give her away, and told me to keep those photos hidden. "I still have some shots of that tattoo, and it's proof that it's Jennifer in those pictures.

"Documents like what?" "I don’t know... anything that looks important. Old ledgers. Envelopes. Files... they didn't say exactly. Just that it belonged to them and that you had it." I press the barrel harder against his temple again. "Who do you work for?" "I told you, I don't know. They call him Shadow. That's all I got. No one sees him. No one meets him. Jobs come through proxies. Money shows up in accounts. That's it."

Present day, Moscow… It was a snowy night in Moscow. No cars dared to occupy the roads. Every single thing in the range of vision was stark white. The winds blew relentlessly, causing a whistling sound to echo across the deserted roads. Only a few shops remained open and the faces of the employees sitting within the glass walls clearly indicated that they didn't want to be there either. A bunch of homeless people gathered around a metal trash can with a fire raging inside it. Far from all the despair and chaos, Ivan Volkov rested on his ornate sofa in front of his fireplace in a dimly lit room. He was in his late fifties and had a head full of white hair in a typical soldier haircut and a si

Then she stopped. Through the quiet rustling, I thought I heard her calling my name. “Mariah, where are you? I’m so scared...” My mom had always been afraid of the dark. I grew up in a single-parent household so to support me, my mom often worked late into the night. I always waited for her at the end of a long alley, eager to escort her home. By holding my hand, she always found the courage to step into the darkness. She also suffered from claustrophobia.

There had never been a lesson in any book telling me how to check if my shadow was normal. I could only rely on the most clumsy methods to test it myself. I set an alarm, making it go off every hour. When I woke up, I would look at the wall to see if my shadow was still there. Every day, I checked, and slowly, I began to accept the reality that my shadow had returned to normal.

I glanced over my shoulder, but the alley was empty. Keep moving, I told myself. It’s just your imagination. I quickened my pace, my heels clicking against the pavement. The footsteps followed, faint at first but growing louder and heavier. They weren't mine. “Stop.” The voice was low and guttural, almost a growl. I spun around, my heart lurching into my throat. A man stepped out of the shadows, his face obscured by the hood of his jacket. “Stay back,” I warned, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

Chapter 1 I Tampered With My Rival’s Costume Because I Wanted To See Her Break The bass throbs through the walls of Eclipse like a second heartbeat as I stand backstage, adjusting the black silk veil that covers everything except my eyes and forehead. This veil is my signature. My armor. No one knows what I really look like. They only know “Shadow” — the mysterious dancer who makes men empty their wallets and beg for more. I make more money than almost every girl here.

waiting. Because shadows... never die.

No contact. Just a shadow trailing another.