Rain poured relentlessly.
Silas's cheek scraped against the rough asphalt as blood spilled from his mouth, washed away instantly by the downpour.
His arms lay at unnatural angles. His ribs were shattered — he could feel them, though he couldn't name which ones were broken. Strangely, the pain felt distant.
His eyes remained open.
He saw Theo and Rose rushing out of the car.
Theo fell to his knees beside him, shaking his body.
"Silas! Silas, answer me!"
I wish I could.
But my mouth won't move.
Rose stood near the car, watching as if she were witnessing a scene from a tragic film.
Theo turned to her, frantic.
"We have to call an ambulance!"
He fumbled with his phone, rain making his hands slip.
Rose gently grabbed his wrist.
The phone fell into a puddle.
"Theo… he's already dead," she said softly. "His eyes are just open."
But I'm not dead.
Am I?
"So what?!" Theo shouted.
Rose's tone sharpened.
"If you call an ambulance, they won't save him. But they will arrest you. You'll be charged. Your life will be over."
Theo froze.
"Then what? We just leave him here to rot?"
Rain hammered down between them.
Rose stepped closer.
"That's what he would've wanted," she whispered. "He wouldn't want you to ruin your life."
Silas's fading heartbeat thudded harder.
Would I?
Theo stood abruptly, kicking the pavement.
"Damn it!"
He was crying.
Actually crying.
Rose wrapped her arms around him.
"We need to go. Now."
Theo looked back at Silas one last time.
"I'm sorry."
They left.
It's okay.
I forgive you, Theo.
May you both live happily without the rotten shadow.
Silas closed his eyes.
And just before the final breath escaped him —
Something dark slid through the rain.
Reached for him.
The first time something had ever reached for him.
Silas opened his eyes.
He was standing beside a volcano.
Heat radiated from it in slow pulses. The lava inside glowed, restless but contained.
"What…?" he muttered.
"Shouldn't I get the five minutes? The memories?"
A familiar voice echoed behind him.
"You're right. You haven't seen a volcano before. But you see your reflection every day. Don't you think both of you are quite familiar?"
Silas turned.
It was him.
Same face.
Same height.
But entirely black — wrapped in shifting, lightless matter. His posture was straight, confident. His smile controlled.
"Don't you agree, Silas?"
Silas froze.
Then he laughed.
Loud. Sharp. Ridiculous.
The creature tilted its head.
"Have you lost your mind?"
"Sure," Silas wiped tears from his eyes. "Either that, or the myth about five minutes of beautiful memories is a lie."
The dark version smiled faintly.
"It isn't a lie. I've seen thousands die smiling. No matter how miserable they were."
He stepped aside.
"But you? None of your memories are worth mentioning."
Silas's jaw tightened.
"If you want to see them," the creature continued, "follow me."
Silas exhaled.
Shouldn't death feel peaceful?
Instead, I get ordered around by my own shadow.
"Not coming?" the creature asked.
Silas hesitated.
Then:
"Fine."
The world shifted.
Kindergarten.
A classroom.
Two desks at the front.
Number one.
Number two.
Theo stood proudly at number one.
Silas stood at number two.
Parents cheered.
Theo's name echoed.
Among them — Silas's mother.
Clapping.
For Theo.
Silas forced a smile.
"It was an art competition," he explained. "We won together."
The creature raised an eyebrow.
"Why are you number two?"
Silas's smile widened.
"Your friend's success is your success."
"The same friend who left you on the road?"
Silas's jaw tightened.
"He thought I was dead."
"Would you have left him?"
Silence.
"Rose told him I was dead," Silas muttered.
"Rose. Your girlfriend?"
"…Your point?"
The creature smiled gently.
"Nothing you don't already know."
The world shifted again.
High school.
An alley.
A classroom door.
Silas knew this place.
Inside —
Theo kissing a girl.
The same girl Silas had confessed liking the night before.
He stood frozen in the doorway.
The creature watched him.
"What did you do?"
Silas smiled again.
"You're watching it."
He had turned around.
Left.
Said nothing.
The creature stepped closer.
"You lived your entire life in his shadow."
"Stop."
"Your dreams. Your recognition. Even your love."
"Stop."
"They weren't stolen."
The creature leaned in.
"You handed them over."
Silas's smile faltered.
"You really think Theo saw you?"
"He did."
"Then why didn't he see your resentment?"
Silas slapped the creature's hand away.
"Who wants those emotions seen?! They're disgusting!"
The world turned white.
Silence.
The volcano roared somewhere deep inside him.
The creature's voice softened.
"You didn't forgive them."
"Yes I did—"
"No."
Silas's knees gave out.
The volcano erupted.
His tears fell.
"I hated him!" Silas screamed. "I envied him! I wanted him to feel what I felt!"
His fists pounded the empty white ground.
"He killed me long before that car did!"
The creature knelt.
Lifted his face gently.
"You don't have to be alone anymore."
He wiped Silas's tears.
"I saw you."
Silas trembled.
"Who are you?"
"I'm you."
"But I hate myself."
"Have you ever tried to understand yourself?"
A dark hand extended.
Silas stared at it.
Then he took it.
"I will."
Darkness spread through the white space.
Rain.
The street.
Silas's body twitched.
Black matter crawled across his skin like ink soaking into paper.
His eyes opened.
He looked down at his reflection in the rainwater.
Tall.
Wrapped in shifting blackness that moved like something breathing beneath his skin.
His jaw hung slightly uneven , not open, not closed , just wrong.
His posture, however, had not changed.
Still slightly slouched. Still leaning back. As if the weight of the world no longer concerned him.
And between his legs dragged a torn tail , thin, ragged at the end, twitching faintly like something unsure whether it belonged to him.
Then he noticed it.
Across the center of his chest, barely visible beneath the dark matter, ran a faint hairline crack.
Delicate. Almost elegant.
It did not bleed.
It did not widen.
It simply existed , as if something inside him had fractured long ago and never quite sealed.
Rainwater rippled over his reflection, and for a moment the crack seemed deeper. Then it faded again, subtle as breath.
"That's what I've become?" he murmured.
From somewhere inside him, calm and close, the voice replied:
"That's what we are."