The Clockmaker's Shadow | ONC 2021 | LGBT

18. Possession

(Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to Jenjen79 who has been one of my best supporters through the 4 ONC journeys, and beyond - thank you!)

Shadow hadn't intended to merge with Aron. In fact, his first reaction when he realized what had happened, had been to retreat immediately to the mirror worlds; but then Aron had clambered to his feet and Shadow had felt the texture of the carpet against his soles, the shiver of night air on his bare skin... and changed his mind.

He couldn't believe how miraculous it was to feel something... he had been deprived of touch for so long. He began to drink in the sensations greedily, unable to get enough to satisfy his sudden thirst.

Aron began to shake his head wildly, as if trying to dislodge him, and Shadow went quiet for a few moments.

Then, tentatively, he reached out to explore. More gently, this time. What else had changed with this transformation?

His thoughts and memories were still his own. He could sense Aron's mind nearby and a wave of terrified outrage almost swamped him before he thought to throw up a barrier between them. That had been too close. So far at least, their minds were separate and he wanted to make sure they stayed that way.

That glimpse into Aron's raw emotion made him oddly uncomfortable and he deliberately turned his attention elsewhere.

What about the physical? He already knew he could feel the same sensations as Aron, but could he move his body as well? He tried to lift his right arm, then the left, but nothing happened. It seemed Aron was still the one in control of their movements.

"GET OUT!!"

The words pierced the barrier Shadow had erected like a shout, right in his ear, and he shrank back. He didn't want to leave. But was it possible Aron could evict him?

He had been too impatient, too much like a child suddenly free in a sweet shop; he needed to bide his time. If he stayed really quiet, perhaps Aron would forget he was there.

~~~

Aron tried everything he could think of to remove the creature from inside his head but nothing worked. Eventually he fell asleep, exhausted. Maybe the invader would be gone when he woke.

But he wasn't. Aron could sense the foreign presence lurking like a stalker on the edges of his mind. He felt too stressed to open the shop and spent all day locked in his room, flicking through his collection of books, searching for something that might help. He tried meditation, he tried emptying his thoughts as much as he could, (though that turned out to be impossible), and he tried visualising the creature leaving his head and disappearing out the window, but nothing seemed to make a difference.

Eventually, he decided to try talking to it, but he knew he had to calm down first. Yelling hadn't worked so far.

He poured a large glass of water and drank it slowly, then took a few deep breaths.

"What are you?" he asked, silently, inside his head. "Do you have a name?"

He waited, forcing himself to be patient.

"Shadow."

Aron 'heard'' the word quite clearly. He hesitated. What do you talk about with a monster? You could hardly discuss your favourite books or restaurants, thought Aron, with a touch of hysteria.

"Where do you come from, Shadow?"

This time Aron didn't hear an actual word but received an image instead. He saw a long corridor of mirrors, stretching into the distance.

"That's where you live?" he asked, puzzled.

"Yes."

"How long have you lived there?"

Confusion.

Aron tried again.

"Do you know how old you are?"

More confusion and then a distinct shrug.

"I've never seen a-a creature like you. Do you know where you came from?"

Again, the image of mirrors.

Aron gave up trying to discover more about the Shadow's history and cut to the chase.

"What do you want?"

A jumble of images and feelings fought for his attention. He understood that Shadow was searching... no, chasing someone, through what seemed to be a collection of different countries, some with strange machines and buildings that he had never seen before.

It was all very confusing and then he caught a glimpse of something familiar that caught his breath. Surely, that was an image of Rik Sandro?

"Who is that?" he interrupted.

"My quarry."

"I know him! He works for Viscount Harlow. Does he know about you?"

A shrug.

"I think we should go and see him. He might be able to help."

"NO!!"

Aron could feel Shadow's fear, but he couldn't understand it. Rik had seemed pretty harmless during the few times they had met.

"If he's from somewhere else, like you, he might know how we could separate," explained Aron, reasonably enough, he thought.

Protest battered against Aron's mind. He felt the sensation of his own clothes against his skin, the taste of the coffee he had drunk for breakfast and the feel of pages between his fingers as he browsed the books, all projected back at him.

Aron flinched. That was so uncomfortable. Disturbing.

"Well, we can't stay like this, you know," he argued, pushing aside an unwanted twinge of sympathy.

Desperation... the joy of being able to communicate with another person, even as awkwardly as they were doing now.

"I'm sorry," said Aron firmly, and loudly. "But I can't possibly live like this. I want my own life back. We're going to see Rik Sandro right now."

Protest... anger... rage... Shadow subjected him to a battery of furious emotions as Aron pulled on his boots and a heavy coat to protect against the night air. He felt his attempts to slow his feet, to turn them back toward the shop, but so far, Aron was still the one in control of his body.

Aron tried to close his mind against the noise, which was giving him a headache, by walking faster and faster through the streets to Ned's house. Shadow's intense reaction gave him increasing hope that Rik would know what to do.