Shadow Spin Dash Novels & Stories

He only hoped Yuri made it in range to signal the others that they needed additional support. Less than twenty feet away, one of the buses they were using for transport was wrapped around a pole. The shadows came for them, a black tide of death. They were out running before shadows got smart, going for the bus’s tires. The blowout had the driver losing control of the vehicle coming to a stop when it rammed headlong into a utility pole. The driver didn’t make it. He was the only casualty of the crash, although others received minor injuries. All the passengers from the wrecked bus were being moved to the one on which he stood. So far, they lost two people to the shadows, bringing their total

At least the ones he couldn’t bend over the table in front of her parents. Bouncing coolly down the front steps, he wasn’t sure which car to approach. The dark, shiny coupe parked carefully in the shadows? Or the sedan covered tire-to-roof with dust clean only in the arches on the windshield from its wipers? He had a bad feeling about the coupe. Knocked gently on the passenger window of the sedan instead. Chuckled quietly as he heard the doors flick unlocked. Slipped inside. “Michael wouldn’t lend you the convertible?” He glanced to the woman. Bright orange hair tucked into a baseball cap. Windbreaker zipped up to the neck. She didn’t smile back.

"I'm afraid it's true, sir," He starts shaking his head. He takes a deep breath before his eyes start to get glassy. I stay rooted in place as he tries to breathe, placing his hand over his chest. His attempt is in vein; he starts hyperventilating. Before I can move to assist, Sanchez breezes past me and steps into the house.

“Yes. There are two rules for sinners. First, they can’t be away from the passport for more than one kilometer.” “What happens if they did–” He recalled the news that contained the explosion of the sinner due to the passport. “Will they explode?” Shadow clapped like a seal and giggled. “Correct.” “How?” Will we explode if we lose our passports too? “Don’t be ridiculous. I will not sabotage my family like that. Before the game, all sinners had to drink one tea that contained my blood.” Everything started to make sense in his head. Shadow’s blood was extremely rare and special. Her blood could serve as her lethal weapon including exploding themselves regardless of where they were. Even Shadow

The baton connected with the back of my neck, hard and final. Pain exploded through me, fast and blinding. My body gave in instantly, strength draining out like it was never mine to begin with. My knees buckled. The wall slipped away. Voices turned distant. Blurred. And just like that... Darkness took over.

“I know the way you flinch when people say your name like it’s a curse. I know your shadows try to protect you even when you pretend you don’t need them.” Her stomach twisted in a way that made her breath hitch. The shadows along her spine coiled tighter, whispering in a language only she could hear—warnings, affirmations, something that felt like longing and danger all at once. “And I know you’re lying when you say you don’t want me around.”

But she didn’t get to finish her sentence before Chandler’s phone rang again. This time, it was his assistant, Ben. Chandler wearily answered, “What is it?” Ben swallowed hard as he deliberated about how to deliver the next piece of news. Taking a deep breath, he finally said, “Professor Rotterdam, do you remember the female corpse sample we examined this afternoon? “I verified the details, and her sample code is A167, belonging to Pauline’s laboratory.” Chandler’s body went rigid, his expression darkening. “A167?! Are you sure you didn’t make a mistake?”

Blend in, keep your head down, and move on before anyone gets too close. As she walked down the bustling hallway, murmurs and whispers followed her. She was used to it. She didn't just blend in. She found her locker and fumbled with the combination, her hands trembling slightly. As she opened it, she caught a glimpse of herself in the small mirror inside. Her long, curly silver hair cascaded down her back like molten moonlight, shimmering with an otherworldly glow. It was the kind of hair that defied explanation, the kind that drew eyes and sparked curiosity exactly what she didn't need.

Morticia looked over my shoulder curious. “What are those dear? Info about Logan?” I didn't answer her. My eyes were stuck on the pictures in front of me. Shiny metal soft leather and a special red color. A brand new Porsche Boxster sports car. The next photo showed a fancy private plane its back had the Spectra Style House logo on it. Each picture was a hard hit proof of what I was worried about. He was treating her too well giving her what she needed to do her job. “What is it Marcus?” Morticia asked her voice showing she was getting annoyed. “What's wrong?”

That if I wasn’t careful, I’d end up on a slab before nightfall. I glanced at the rearview mirror again. There it was. That car. A black Mercedes, tinted windows, not close enough to raise alarm—unless you were paranoid. Unless you’d already been kidnapped once in your life and still woke up sweating in the middle of the night, heart racing, gasping for air like the bag was still over your head. My stomach twisted. I took another turn—sharp, deliberate. Drove a few blocks. Slowed. Switched lanes. Waited at a red light longer than necessary.