What Came Back

David Chen's shadow came back on a Tuesday morning.

He was making coffee when he noticed it on the kitchen floor. Just standing there by the refrigerator. Normal height. Normal shape. Doing nothing.

His first thought was that he was casting it. That the angle of the morning light had finally hit right. He'd been so careful about that for three years. Only left his apartment after dark. Kept his curtains drawn during the day.

But he wasn't standing near the refrigerator. He was by the coffee maker, ten feet away.

His shadow was just there. Separate. Waiting.

David's hands started shaking. Coffee grounds spilled across the counter.

"No," he said. "No, you can't be here."

The shadow didn't move.

Three years. Three years since it had left. Since that night on the Brooklyn Bridge. Standing on the railing at 3 AM. His shadow walking away from him. Just peeled itself off the bridge and disappeared into the water below.

They'd put him on a seventy-two hour hold. Medication. Therapy.

And slowly, he'd gotten better. Learned to live without a shadow. Learned that he wanted to live after all.

But shadows didn't just come back.

David backed away slowly. "Why did you come back?"

The shadow didn't answer.

But then it raised one hand and pointed. Not at David.

At the calendar on the wall.

Tuesday, June 20th.

David's stomach dropped. "No. No, that's not—"

The shadow kept pointing. Insistent.

June 20th. Three years to the day.

David grabbed his laptop. Pulled up the news. Started scrolling.

SHADOW ANOMALIES SPIKE WORLDWIDE

HUNDREDS REPORT RETURNED SHADOWS

WHAT DO THE SHADOWS KNOW?

David read headline after headline. Shadows that had separated years ago, suddenly returning. All on the same day.

All of them shadows that had left during suicide attempts.

His phone rang. Unknown number. He let it go to voicemail.

Thirty seconds later, another call.

His shadow moved closer. Urgent now. It reached out and touched the laptop screen. Tapped twice on one headline.

David clicked it.

"Shadow Services officials confirm that all returned shadows appear to be attempting to communicate something. Behavioral patterns suggest extreme urgency."

David looked at his shadow. "What is it? What's coming?"

His shadow moved to the window. Pressed both palms against the glass. Looking out at the city. At the morning light.

Then it turned back to him.

David felt it. Even though shadows had no faces. No expressions.

Terror.

His phone rang again. This time he answered.

"Mr. Chen?" The voice was calm. Professional. "This is Agent Morrison with Shadow Services. We need you to remain in your apartment."

"What's happening?" David demanded. "Why did they all come back?"

"We don't know yet. But Mr. Chen—" The agent's voice dropped lower. "How many windows does your apartment have?"

"What? I don't—why does that matter?"

"How many windows?"

"Four. Why?"

"I need you to close all your curtains. Right now. And stay away from the windows."

"I don't understand."

"Mr. Chen, please just—"

The line went dead.

David looked at his phone. No signal.

Outside, someone started screaming.

Then someone else.

Then a lot of people.

David ran to the window. His shadow tried to stop him, grabbing at his arm, but it had no substance.

He looked out at the city.

Every shadow was wrong.

Not just the returned ones. All of them. Every shadow being cast by every person on the street was moving independently. Breaking free. Running.

Running away from something.

And then David saw what they were running from.

On the eastern horizon, where the sun was rising, the sky was going dark. Not storm clouds. Not night falling. Something else. Something that ate the light as it came.

Something that cast no shadow at all.

His shadow pressed against him from behind.

David watched the darkness spread across the morning sky.

Then he looked down.

His shadow was smiling.