Darryl ducked underneath a massive red fist. He thrust his arm forward and tendrils of darkness shot forth from his fingers, clawing at Morris’ feet and causing him to stumble.
Darryl extended his arms up and out. As he did so, six more shadows shot from his fingers, landing on the surrounding ground without making a sound. The shapes shivered and stood up, taking on the shape and size of Darryl clones. Three of them moved to his left and three to his right, forming a small attack force of shadows.
Darryl looked to his left. The shadows on this side shuddered as razor-sharp wings grew from their shoulders. They leaped into the air and flew toward Morris, each of them taking a different angle of approach on his left side
The other three shadows ran to the right and then straight towards Morris, each taking similar angles of approach on the ground. Both sets of shadows moved faster than the naked eye could follow towards their target.
Morris looked up and then down. His eyes briefly registered shock before flashing crimson. Faster than thought, two enormous hands appeared in the air in front of him. The hands separated, flying in both directions and then slamming back together. This caused a shockwave that hit both sets of shadows at once, obliterating them on contact.
Morris smirked at Darryl for a moment, and then stopped short. Another shadow stood just behind him with a thick black arm around his throat. Now it was Darryl’s turn to smirk. He walked towards Morris, cautiously at first and then casually as he saw his friend fighting and failing to free himself from the shadow’s clutches.
“Did you think it was going to be that easy, M?” He said. “We’ve been practicing our skills for a week straight. You’ve tried that before and it didn’t work. Why the heck would you try it again?” Darryl was just a few feet away from Morris now.
Morris gasped and struggled to create space between the black arm and his neck.
Without warning, Morris growled, his eyes flashed white and a massive red hand lashed out and struck Darryl in the stomach. Darryl gasped and hit the ground, doubled over in pain.
“To do that. “
Morris’s eyes turned brown again as he bent down beside Darryl and reached a hand out to help him.
“I’m sorry, Darryl!” Morris said in a rush, “Are you hurt? Do we need to get a doctor?”
Darryl groaned and slowly sat up.
“No, I’m okay. Red just knocked the wind out of me. “
Darryl chuckled to himself (which hurt) as Morris walked him over to one of the bleachers and helped him sit down.
Red was the nickname Darryl used for the massive crimson creature that manifested when Morris used his powers.
He used the name because a) it was accurate, and b) he knew the thing hated it.
The creature growled. It was a terrifying guttural sound that was even worse because it seemed to come from nowhere.
“Darryl, please don’t antagonize him.” Morris pleaded.
“ He’s down, Ish. You got him.”
Morris sat down beside Darryl and thought about the day he met the red giant.
After the Reese incident, Morris ran home and hid in his room the rest of the day and into the night.
Eventually, fear and shock gave way to curiosity. Morris felt silly talking to thin air, but he didn’t know what else to do.
“Who are you?”
Morris gasped when the voice answered instantly.
“Hey, kid. My name is Ischuros.”
Once Morris’s heart started beating again, he got up the nerve to ask another question.
“Why did you help me?”
“Because you needed me. “
“Okay, but why didn’t you help me last week when Reese had my head in the toilet? I kind of needed you then.”
Ischuros chuckled.
“Fair enough. Today you needed me, and something big is about to happen. That’s why I showed up today and not before”
“Whoa. Something big? What the heck does that mean?”
“Sorry, kid, I can’t tell you what I don’t know myself. All I know is I I came here when you needed me, and I only show up when something big is about to go down.
“You’ve done this before?”
“Yep.”
“When?”
“Sorry, kid. That’s need to know only.”
“What? Why?”
“I have my reasons. Just know that from now on, whenever you need me I’ll be there.”
Morris couldn’t argue with that.
“Okay, Isha, Ishos, Ika- for crying out loud, can I please call you something else? Your name’s a mouthful.”
There was another chuckle. To the untrained ear, it sounded like a distant peal of thunder.
“Call me Isch. Think you can handle that?”
“Okay, cool,” Morris said. “Thank you again, Isch!”