The Shadow Anthology

William

Each row of Rowbrey Church was filled with mute martyrs. Every seat and aisle was packed with pity and prayers. There were even more bustling in the back and ebbing out the door. There was a restless silence cupping every mouth, but every soul cried out to leave. No one dared to break the unspoken spell of sombre silence.
The building was enormous but felt as vast as infinity. It was, from the sky, shaped like a crucifix. Rowbrey Church had become a totem to the town. The skull was the altar and the feet were the pews. The walls donned a rainbow of blackened stain-glass which wrapped around the winding windows like a shawl. Greyscale light echoed in from all directions, wholly encompassing the crying congregation.
The small, oak coffin was shepherded forward, accompanied by its family and an anxious priest. The wilting box was laid to rest before the straining altar. Beauteous flowers adorned the church and had done so for several weeks. Colour was crammed into every corner of the room, but the light of the sun remained grey within their walls.
Words fell as silence did upon the ears of the Blakemonts. The service could have been measured in seconds or millennia, but it felt the same either way in the family's minds. The unceasing mass became a drowning sea which would take a lifetime to wade through. People were as nice as people could be that day; not only to the Blakemont family, but to one another. No single argument broke out that day between anyone who chose to reside in that church for that service.
Mercy had laid itself beside Alex Blakemont as he died, and there it remained. There was no comfort; no solace for anyone left behind. Any solution that could be found with ease was just as easily blown away, like dust. There was no list of options. There was no black and white. Enveloped in fog, they were blind to any paths before them.
The coffin was bequeathed back to its mother, as all eventually are. Leaving devastation in his wake, Alex Blakemont was laid to rest. Prayers became memories while words became tapestries. Though light could no longer reach the wood of his bed, Alex Blakemont was illuminated from the inside.
Conversation in Blakemont Manor survived the arduous months that followed. This talk was mostly limited to Mary, Joseph and William, however, as Alicia wasn’t as adept in the adult language. The television remained extinguished most days and nights. The house was often livelier than it had previously been.
Each family member had begun to arrive home earlier every weekday, though the weekend was often spent away from the house by all its inhabitants; the chilling nights never ceased. The parents now spent far more time with their friends, almost more than they spent with their children. Alicia was usually offered or sent to a friend's house where they would somewhat enjoy each other's company. William was normally with his newfound friends.
In recent weeks, William had received countless friend requests with an even greater quantity of messages. He had his choice of friendship groups and he knew it, yet it hardly fazed him, though little could nowadays. Most interested parties had been unaware of his existence until recent weeks and their requests were either hollow or shallow; William knew this too.
William had detested attending a private school and was hence removed from it at an early age, though his current school was still situated within an upscale hub inside the city. Most students had parents who earned a significant amount of money, though William was the founding member of an entirely new threshold. The eldest son may have been one of the wealthiest children in the school, but he could climb to no higher threshold and forever remained only one of the wealthiest. The others who occupied those positions were Stephanie, Haroldson, Lewis and Kimberley, from highest to lowest respectively.
From an onlooker's perspective they would seem pleasant young adults, despite the lavish and somewhat uncontrollable lives they led. They were almost the most popular students but were far from being widely sought-after, however they were distinctly the most powerful children the school would ever see. Despite this, William was unfazed when they offered him a place in their group. It was neither malice nor preconception that had previously excluded him from the group; it was merely because the group had already formed in their minds before the concept of money had.
Accepting the invitation to Haroldson's house for the following day, William went about concluding his Friday evening. The evening meal in the Blakemont abode was as delectable as it was rumoured to be, and dinner concluded with a short prayer. Then William was seated in the living room between his parents where he was prompted to converse on matters interesting both parties, ranging from the weather to local culture. All then left for bed, abandoning the hearth alone in frozen darkness.
After dinner, as expected, Alicia left for her room. She perched on her bay window and looked longingly into the darkness where moonlight met her face. The young girl rarely played with her toys anymore. Her evenings were solely occupied with this fruitless activity. The girl knew her brother to be dead; there was no disputing this fact. At first, she felt confused then for some time afterwards a slight emptiness left her discorporate, a feeling which would persist throughout her life until she reached peace in adulthood with the boy she would never remember.
The Blakemont family hadn’t yet seen such a life full of prosperity and wealth as they had only begun to, following the funeral. Though the tragic death of their son brought immeasurable and constant disparity, it had also brought immense publicity and advertisement. Mary's dentistry had appointment slots were booked up months in advance continually, and Joe's team was receiving a surplus of international sponsorship.
This fantastical flood of wealth turned their money to dust. Anything that could be reasonably asked of them would likely be granted; as their children were first to find out. The parents of Blakemont Manor, however, longed for something back which money could never buy, though perhaps it could substitute. They knew the opportunity was fleeting and would soon be lost forever.
Gossip spread in hushed and echoing whispers about the Blakemont's fourth child. The whispers eventually died out as they availed no truth for Mary Blakemont could bear no more children. Thoughts in the household turned to adoption for a while, though were dismissed later on after considering the feelings of children whom already resided there. The dreaded fate of a barren future would scold any other couple but could barely sting this marriage. Raising their children with no possibility of a more wholesome future somehow brought the couple closer together.
Whilst the decision was still under consideration, William and Alicia were left to their own devices and the relationship between parents and children grew frail for a time. Alicia spent most of her time alone; in her room or at a friend's house, which would remain the case for many years to come, though neither case appeased her.
William Blakemont had been spending a substantial amount of time with his fellow opulent classmates. Their gatherings were something to behold and would generally occur at either Stephanie or Haroldson's house because those were the largest and most lavish abodes within the city limits. By now William had been fully accepted and initiated into the group. A meeting was held every weekend and lasted overnight, often to the dismay of the cleaners.
William had become close with his new friends. They regularly shared all their secrets, light and dark, to one another amidst a weekly game of “Truth or Dare”. He knew these teenage titans by Steph, Harry, Lew and Kimmy. They weren't bad people in any major sense, though peer pressure did, yet not inescapably, exist within the group. For example, if someone were to offer Steph a drink on a certain night, as William had seen happen, then the following conversation would occur.
Harry spoke first and loudly, “Well, you lot are lovely, but I think you'll all look a lot better after I've had a few!” They had all been watching a noir film which William had pried from his father’s exasperated hands. The group was huddled on one settee, despite there being a surplus of sofas surrounding them. The table stood before the small cinema screen, and all present now had their feet upon its freshly varnished surface. It had been spotless several hours before but now appeared as a wasteland of stains, shoes and sludge. Harry thrust himself from the pack, making them tumble atop one another in a wave of disgruntled laughter and swears. Lew dragged himself free and retorted before Harry could leave for his drink.
“Pass me one!” He then composed his version of an upper-class accent, “Now I'll turn into beauty, and you can remain the beast!” to which the group laughed. “But seriously, get me a beer, would you?” Harry rolled his eyes and dragged himself into the kitchen, returning with crates betwixt his arms.
“Alright, anyone else fancy a bit? Kimmy?” he offered, waving a bottle to her. While she mulled over her answer, Harry grew tired and threw it beside her, knowing the answer that always followed.
“Oh sure, whatever. My parents are off to Sweden for a week and if I throw up on their bed they'll never even know.” said the young girl with a smug smile. Everyone halted and turned to her with raised eyebrows and mouths aching to question her.
Lew continued from her hesitantly, “Kimmy, didn't your parents just get security cameras?” Silence held the room before hysterical laughter broke out. Kimmy swore inaudibly through her muffled laughter. “Well it's a good thing we’re all here in the morning then!” Harry raised his glass to his triumph, imbibing its content with professional ease. He severed the drink from his mouth, splashing its remnants over his friends and the table, to which he received an uproar of aggravation. Amid his exaggerated laughter, Harry scanned the group for those without a beer.
“Anyone else for some? How about you-"
“No thanks, I'm leaving early tomorrow.” William cut Harry off with a gesture. “Besides, I’m more of a spirits-man, myself!” The boy received an astounded and baritone murmur of shock.
“Wow, we’ve got a real man here!” Harry exclaimed, punching William in the arm with a bottle. “Sorry my ciders aren’t good enough for you!” Everyone laughed and Harry jabbed William again, to which Steph took the reins and jabbed him back, causing Harry to jolt backwards and land on the table which stuck to him like glue. “Hey!” Steph put her hand on her chest and inhaled aloud with coy shock. Harry laughed and unstuck himself, falling back onto the sofa between William and Steph. “No blame; no shame my brother.” William shrugged his shoulders and struck him in the arm, to which Harry laughed. “Now that just leaves you, Steph...” finished Harry, waving a bottle in front of her face. She mulled it over, though this was more doubtful than Kimmy’s consideration and so Harry waited for an answer, poised over her like a drunken gargoyle.
“I think I'll pass tonight" she said with hesitant defeat.
This resulted in a dredging, elongated “What!” from the others, excluding William who cared little tonight.
“But it's the good stuff! It's German! Or Australian... I can't quite read the label." said Lew, wiping the remnants of the bottle from his face. He gestured to Harry for another as Steph concluded the conversation.
“I'm just not in the mood, really.” This response gained a slightly more apathetic shrug, and the night proceeded without hindrance.
William had now been to many of their private parties. They were much like what he had experienced that night. Some had led to weaker alcohol, while others led to the stronger batches, which often led to William forgetting the night altogether. Some led to smoking cigarettes and drugs, though William would mostly inhale second-hand smoke. However, he did on occasion not reject the offer, and had begun to appreciate the drug in its finer forms at least.
Whatever the host was in possession of at the time was always of the highest class. Alcohol within these houses accustomed William to liquid gold. Heaven parted his lips night after night, and it redefined his wild senses. It was a pleasure which few people could afford and so injected him with euphoric bliss of the highest calibre.
Though William was having an enjoyable time exploring his exfoliated senses, he was far from becoming an addict, not that anyone in his life would have noticed at this time. He felt no need for more afterwards and felt no symptoms of withdrawal without it. If he weren’t in such a cleanly and controlled environment, with such relatively respectable people, then perhaps he would have reconsidered his actions from the very beginning. However, William's new friends genuinely cared for him whether he was in danger or not, which he knew, so the adolescent persevered.
Starfire Academy was both a high school and a college, which meant William should've had no need to part with any of his newfound friends. However, Lew's parents were taking their family abroad. This news would leave most groups melancholy or even depressed, though the mannerisms of this group were nothing akin to any others of their age; their realities were heightened constantly so they had no time for grief when a party could be had. Given that everyone present had noticed William's ongoing detachment from his family, the group decided a small party was needed, yet its few guests would give it great magnitude. This would be to both brighten William's life for a moment and forever commemorate Lew's departure.
The party began with fine alcohol, retrieved from only the best of their parents’ cabinets, and then gradually moved on to liquids of even more strength and sublimity. Some hours into the party several rolls of white paper were handed to each person. Lighters circulated the house like oxygen, which had become rather scarce at this point. Music was blasting from all directions, and lights colourfully penetrated every fume.
Though time had lost most meaning as the clock struck midnight, Harry still recognised the perfect moment to bring the party to a climax, while still permitting its perpetual roar. The clock struck one while the group bounded amid the fiery smog. Meantime, Harry slipped away to retrieve something from his room.
The ground floor of Harry's house was still alive and roaring in the earliest hours of the morning. Kimmy and William were taking shots of lustrous rum in the corner while clumsily flirting. Steph and Lew set themselves in the middle of the dancefloor, rabidly kissing as they held two slowly burning sticks.
Harry re-entered the kitchen with the content of his drawer. He stumbled about the place, almost stabbing himself in the process. Eventually he retrieved a trembling dining cart. Concealing his surprise within a silver dome, he moved into the adjoining room. All heads turned as the clumsy clattering cart entered the fray and Harry announced himself with a bellowing echo which bounced from fume to fume, concealing his whereabouts. With every extra word, his friends drew closer.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here tonight to celebrate our dear friend Lewis.” The music quietened and the lights were put on a soft pink glare while the stinking smoke still haunted the room. “Lew, you're the best friend anyone here could ever have asked for. You’ve made us laugh, you’ve made us smile, and you’ve made us each want to strangle you at one point or another!” This resulted in a monstrous cackle from the group. “Now, you didn't tell me not to get you anything-"
“Yes, I did!” retorted Lewis.
This resulted in a resounding “Shut it!” from Kimmy and Steph, the former of which punched his arm and almost knocked him over, to which the boy could merely brandish his hearty laugh and pick himself back up.
“So, Lew, you rich and gorgeous heart-throb, tell me, what can you get for a guy with no imagination but enough money to buy your whole family?” He paused in irritating suspense. “Something weird he'd never think of!” Harry proclaimed, revealing a beautiful cake, inscribed: “Lew, ou’re the drug that will never leave our hearts! X”. The group scanned it profusely, appreciating the gesture but confused all the same. “Made it all by myself!” Harry claimed proudly and falsely. “You want to know what the best part is, though?” The group leaned in like a rehearsed pantomime. “Drum roll please, William!” Harry announced, to which the boy complied. The suspense hung like a sword in the air. “It's a coke cake!”
“You mean...” Lew trailed off.
“Oh, I do.” Said Harry looking rather pleased with himself.
“Wait...” furthered Steph.
“So…” continued Kimmy.
“That thing has cocaine in it?” finished William, dropping the sword and illuminating the room.
“My friends. This beast of a feast has enough drugs in it to lock ten dealers away for life. Actually, it almost did for four of them...” He lost himself in a haze of memories of the dark alleyways he was taken down when acquiring these ingredients and felt the scar on his back widen at the thought of it. “Anyway, that's not the point. The point is: we’re making tonight; the last night Lew has with us, the most memorable we can. What do you say Lew?” he posed, offering the frightened little boy a glistening silver cutter.
After Harry told William his address for the first time, both boys were shocked that they lived so near each other. This distance could be traversed by a brisk jog in slightly more than a minute, which consistently allowed William a prompt arrival.
At this moment, outside on the street, there was quiet. Not a single person or pet had moved out there for hours, nobody had even opened their curtains to gaze into the blackening night. Though there was quiet, there wasn’t definitive silence nor was everything still. A shadow had been cast across the street from Mary's dentistry, and the front door of Blakemont Manor stood agape but was quickly shut by a sudden gust of wind. Sometime later, the grass where Alex Blakemont had fallen began to move unnaturally. Though as it passed over the dry patch of grass, as the cake was displayed before William, the shadow dispersed, and the air warmed once more for a car had passed, illuminating both the street and Harry’s house, disclosing William’s furrowed brow to all those present.
Within Harry’s house the cake was being cut and served out. Lew ate his first. Eating slowly to begin with, the boy's pace rapidly accelerated as he persisted with the food. After the slices had all been fairly dished out, Lew had finished his first piece of cake. Neither realising nor caring that people had finished with the stack for now, he launched his face into the frosting and gorged maniacally. His jaw unhinged with every bite and he became a mechanical beast, feeding fervently on his gift.
Harry had done his research and bought the best of every variety on the market. The effects would, for some hours, be drastic. However, once they wore off, the sole side-effect would be immense drowsiness. The cocaine, much unlike most of its kind, would also not provide any withdrawal symptoms. This meant none needed to worry about thoughts of addiction.
An hour later, William still debated his consumption of the horrendous pile of bliss lying in his lap. He had scarcely had a good night’s sleep since his brother’s death, and seeing Steph collapsed in a heap in the corner repelled him, despite stirring feelings of sympathy. He was immeasurably grateful for the acceptance the group had given him but had only recently begun to feel content again. Upon seeing Kimmy, Harry and Lew bouncing wildly in the centre of the room as one pulsating mass of tongues and hands, he realised that these oddities were, in fact, his people. He took a bite of his cake, followed by another, and another, and several more until it was gone. He licked the plate like a pet and then ran into the centre of the room where he was engulfed by the frenzied mass. The group had finally managed to sway Billy.