A darkened room. A single light flashes on over a boy, aged seventeen, restrained to a metal chair. As he awakes and his eyes adjust, all he can see is the circle of light he is bathed in. His arms and legs are clamped down and a loose strap kept his head from moving more than an inch each direction. In front of him is a hanging microphone from the darkness.
A buzz screeches from hidden overhead speakers. “Mr. White?”
The voice sounds charming like a devil. Obviously disguised, but female.
“How do you know my name?” the boy asks, his voice slowly dying.
“That does not matter,” says the speaker. “What matters is that you tell me exactly what happened over the last four days. It is of the most importance that you explain everything you know. Be honest, and please leave nothing out.”
“I don’t know anything! I’m not even directly involved!”
A pause. “Even though you’re telling the truth, we think you’ve only convinced yourself of that. So please, in your own words, describe what happened. We will ask you questions along the way and monitor your answers whether or not they’re truthful. So if you may, please begin.”
(DAY 1: THE KIDNAPPING)
“Four days ago? Well I don’t remember every detail, but I’ll try. I remember it was a Monday. My morning began with my mother waking me up for school by throwing a bucket of cold water on me. Obviously I was unamused, but I had slept in so I deserved it. I quickly got my stuff together and headed down to eat breakfast.
In the mornings before school I watched the news, mostly to laugh at the dim-witted politicians and the ignorant reporters doing their best to cover up the latest scandal. But that day was different. Instead of the boring drivel they used to report, a news alert was flashing across the screen. The reporters were frantic, chattering teeth and sweating like boxers in a ring. The large text displayed at the bottom of the screen said: The SC was missing.
The SC… That was all I ever heard of the title of our country’s leader. I forget what it stands for.”
A buzz in the air. “It stands for Supreme Caller,” says the speaker. “Carry on.”
“Right. The SC was said to have been found missing that very morning. The media thought it was a kidnapping, but by then there were no signs of a ransom. The SC had just disappeared out of thin air.
However, that was what got me thinking. Why would anyone attempt a stunt like this? Maybe fame, fortune, power; but I kept wondering if this was something much deeper than the everyday kidnapping. It was the SC after all. Now as the day went on, the country stood still. Schools were closed, people were told to stay inside, and even some TV channels were off due to this “national catastrophe.”
My mind was focused as if it really mattered. I wanted to find out who could have done this, even if I would get nowhere. As far as I saw in the news stories, no one knew who did it or for what. It was if the SC no longer existed. If he was killed, someone would have claimed responsibility. I ruled that out. This person kidnapped the SC for a ransom of something more than money, and they were just waiting for the right moment when the steam blew out of the teapot.”
“So you began on your own investigation on your own?”
“No. I was limited in information so I made contact with one of my friends. He was one of those guys who knew a little about every subject. I called him up the night of the first day.”
“Please wait a moment so I can confirm that,” says the speaker. “As I see you called from your residence on Monday evening to your friend. The call from the phone records length to about twenty minutes. Is this that call?”
“I guess so. You’re the one with the records, lady.”
A huff of contempt was heard over the loudspeaker. “Just to make sure you’re not lying, we’ll play back the conversation we found in your phone.”
After a loud beep and seconds of static, the following conversation reverberated throughout the room:
“Hey Jake, are you there?” a boy asks.
“White? Don’t you know what time it is?”
“It’s not that late. It’s only… eight-o-seven.”
Jake sighed. “Remember I work early? I need my sleep.”
“There’s no use for that. You won’t be working tomorrow anyways. Haven’t you seen the news?”
“No, I don’t have cable. What’s up?”
The boy coughs to clear his throat. “The SC has been kidnapped. No one knows for sure if that’s true, meaning they think he’s dead. I believe he’s either in hiding or has been kidnapped. My bets are on the second.”
“Are you serious? No joke?”
“Absolutely. The news channels are going haywire over this. And the county has practically shut down since this morning.”
The line is silent for five seconds. “If this is true, why are you calling me?”
“Because I know you have the information I need to figure this out.”
“You’re doing another investigation? Even though you sometimes figure these things out faster than the police, this one’s a bit bigger than locating some missing some diamond pearls.”
“Oh please,” says the boy. “Those cases were nothing compared to this. I really want to try and find anything out. If I do, I’ll post it on the internet or send a report to the police. This could be something big if I find out what happened.”
“Alright then,” says Jake. “What do you want to know?”
“What does the SC usually do during his day? Especially yesterday.”
“I’ll be right back. Stay on hold for me, okay?”
After five minutes of silent air space, there is a jumbling sound followed by a loud thump.
“Sorry, guy, I accidentally dropped the phone.”
“It’s okay. It’s not like I’m listening to it on loudspeaker.”
The present White in his chair smirks with pain ringing in his ears. “Me and my big mouth.”
“So the SC acts as our country’s spokesperson,” the loudspeaker Jake says. “Like an ambassador with a governing office. Most of the day, he’s out of the country debating with or sharing with other country leadership. He only returns home after about seven to ten at night and goes to sleep in the National SC Office. Otherwise he plans to stay in his current country for the night. At ten, whether or not he is present, the SC Office closes its doors, making entry impossible. Yesterday, he was visiting a country that was three hours away and he left at around five, making his flight-destination time at eight, well before the close-off time. However, there are no eye-witness accounts so far that say whether or not he made it safely to his room after the plane landed. If your kidnapper happened to know when the SC landed, then he could have done the act any time between eight to ten-o-clock from the airport to the SC Office.”
“Thanks Jake. So if I investigate those two hours and the area between the airport and the Office, I’ll most likely find the clues I need to find the kidnapper.”
“Just don’t get yourself into trouble. Just stay distant like you always do.”
The conversation ends. The speakers crackle before the female voice speaks again.
“It appears you were telling the truth about your personal investigation.”
“See?” White says. “I’ve been telling the truth the entire time. So what if I decided to investigate something this big? I’m just a teenager. And even somehow, if I did find the truth, I would tell the police and the secret services or whatever. There’s no reason to keep me here.”
“Sorry Mr. White,” says the loudspeaker. “I’m afraid you are not done until I say you are. I asked you to recall the last four days. You so far have only told about the first, which seems true with the phone call as evidence. Now, please, return to your story.”
(DAY 2: THE BOMB)
“Well, I went to bed after taking down notes from talking with Jake. You can check that, I assume. The next day almost began like the previous one, however I woke up on my own and I only watched the news to check if they had gotten on any leads for the SC. Luckily, they were still guessing the manner of his disappearance. I was one step ahead.
My mother was worried sick about the condition of the neighborhood, wondering how she could go shopping for food when we were not allowed outside of our homes. She called my father, who was stuck at work since the day before to see if there were any changes on his end; so far, none.
I looked out the window and saw one or two patrol cars driving around the area, keeping watch that no one left their houses and helping those who did to understand the situation and return inside. After I ate breakfast I went back to my room and studied their patrol patterns for two hours. After mapping out what they did in my notebook, I locked by bedroom door and climbed out my window after they repeated their usual rounds once again.
I had only ten minutes before a patrol car would circle back around, so I took my bike from the side of my house and rode off to the next neighborhood. From there, I looked through the shabby map I drew out for myself and frowned at the distance I had to travel undiscovered. Considering how long it would take for me to get to the airport the SC arrived in, I had to find another form of transportation to return home before my mother realized I was not in my room. My music collection could only last a few hours at most to pretend my presence.
So once again, I called up my friend Jake on my cell phone and asked him for advice. Luckily, he decided to help me out sometime after our conversation the night before and was already driving in his motorcycle to come and pick me up.”
“Can you tell us about your friend Jake?” asks the speaker.
“Jake is three years older than me, but that didn’t stop us from being friends and respecting each other. Even though my parents thought him as a bad influence due to his recklessness and his lay-back attitude, I considered him to be my biggest asset whenever I began my investigations. What he did for a living, he was a librarian; go figure. However, because he spent most of his time reading than actually doing his job, he learned about a lot of things of random subjects that happen to interest him. Any question I could ask could be answered well, to the best of his ability. And if he didn’t know, he could easily find out more with his information database.
The distance between my neighborhood and the airport was forty miles, definitely a strain on a passenger on a motorcycle. By the time we arrived though, only two hours had passed, giving me enough time to, in my mind, to investigate and return back home before anyone noticed.
The National Airport was high with security but was shut down due to the crisis. We got in easily enough, but the SC’s restricted access area had been cordoned off by yellow tape and two police officers. As soon as I saw it, I wondered whether the other side’s investigation figured out what I realized the day before.
However, the truth was much more… satisfying.”
“So you find the second incident pleasurable?” asks the speaker, accusatory. “You enjoy something like that happening?”
“No, not like that,” White says. “The plane’s explosion meant I was closer to my target than I thought, and that their investigation was far from the truth. I asked one of the police officers what had happened and he explained that the SC’s private airplane had been blown up early that morning and the area was now off limits.
I then asked the police officer, in the most pathetic state, whether the SC or anyone else was on the plane. The man insisted that no one had been on the plane since nine-o-clock the night of the SC’s disappearance. That led to me to wonder aloud, who could have been on the plane then? The police officer reassured me that the SC was getting off the plane around then since there were a few technical problems with the plane’s exit hatch. A learned something big in that moment: the SC was on the plane a whole hour after it had landed.
But I wondered why did the plane blow up a day after the SC was gone? My thoughts were to lead the investigators somewhere else. I didn’t know why yet, but I determined to find out. So then in the following hours I returned home with Jake and snuck back inside before anyone knew. I told him of my plan for the next day: to investigate the National SC Office.”
“You seem to be telling the truth about your experiences.” says the speaker. “I checked your notebook and your phone records again, so everything you state plays out correctly.”
“But you still want me to continue, lady?”
“By all means, yes.”
White shifts in his seat. “I did say that I planned to investigate the SC’s public Office, right?”
“Correct.”
“Well, I didn’t know, but the next day was like a total reverse in my investigation.”
(DAY 3: THE FORCED SPEECH)
“The next morning, I poured myself a bowl of cereal and watched the news to check on the progress. However, yet another incident had occurred during the night without me knowing. Instead of the destructiveness I expected, the SC had reappeared that night on national TV.
I watched intently as the SC stood up behind the podium and began to explain his disappearance. It was unbelievable.”
“Indeed, there was a re-showing on national TV the morning of. Just to make sure, I will play back the program from that morning on the screen in front of you.”
Just beyond the microphone swinging in front of White, a TV screen blinks on, displaying the news program:
“Evening to all who watch this. Yes, I am the SC. I am sorry for my previous absence over the past few days and I am sorry for the trouble it has caused. But then again, maybe not. I was only gone for two days and already the country has broken apart. The truth of the matter was that there was an insurgence in another country and I had decided to depart immediately. However, due to technical problems to my private plane, I traveled on a separate one instead. And as you all may know, my plane has in fact exploded from other problems as well.
I had forgotten to inform anyone due to the urgency of the situation arising, so I do apologize. However, I am often gone for long periods of time, so why did this nation of dimwitted people decide to shut down? I am your leader, but I am only one man. There are plenty others who can take my place.
But when I returned, I saw that you all had panicked instead of dealing with problems. You all out there were sealed up in your homes, out of work, children out of their schools, with police driving the streets like you all were animals trying to escape their cages; it was maddening to see. And yet, all of you never objected to this tyranny you have allowed upon yourself.
You fools. All of you should be in cages if this is how you react to the zoo keeper being absent. You all are nothing but squabbling animals waiting to be fed instead of making your own food and relying on your own community, or even yourself. And yet, you all have lost your primary initiative. You are nothing but low-life fools from this point forward until you decide to change it yourselves. Stop waiting on our decisions to help, but help yourselves and have us set the morals behind it.
Simply, YOU ARE ALL MORONS!”
The SC then ran off-screen. The TV screen shuts off, leaving White back in secluded darkness.
“After he was found again,” he said, “The SC decided to go into hiding due to the rise of outraged citizens. And yet, I couldn’t help but admire the guy. Everything he said before was true about this country. We both had the same ideals, if but for a few minutes. And yet, any other time he seemed to give off a selfish atmosphere. That lead to me thinking, the SC that showed up that night was not the same one we had come to know.
Then something stuck in my head, like a fly on a dangling piece of tape. What if this was exactly what the kidnapper wanted? What if this was the true reason why the SC had disappeared? What if the kidnapper forced him to humiliate himself?
I spent all of the third day pondering this. I called up Jake and asked him to look up previous speeches that the SC had made to compare to the one at night. We watched over at least twenty speeches several times and recorded different mannerisms in similar words. After long investigation, we found that even though the face and the voice was the same, the attitude and mind behind it was obviously opposing.
So while Jake finalized our findings, I decided on a new plan of action: to ask the SC directly what had happened to him over the past few days and admit that he was in fact kidnapped.”
“So you started from watching on the outside to wanting to confirm everything was true with the top of the ladder,” the speaker says. “A drastic move.”
“Well he was in hiding,” White says. “All I had to do was find his hiding place and talk to him alone. So then Jake helped me narrow down the area and he took me there. However he could not confront the SC because if he did, it would be easy to arrest him for something. I, on the other hand, am only seventeen and cannot be indicted for an adult criminal offence such as approaching the SC and trying to talk to him.”
“And did you find that hiding place?”
“I’m getting there, don’t worry lady.”
(DAY 4 – FINAL DAY)
“While no incident seemed to happen during the night, there was still a lot of talk about the day before on the news. However, nothing seemed to be saying that there was someone behind all of it: the Kidnapping, the Bomb, and the Forced Speech. I was still determined to find out whether everything Jake and I investigated was real.
To find out where the SC was hiding was easier that we thought. Jake, with his superior knowledge of everything, remembered that whenever the SC was in danger, he would go incognito to his secret mountain hideaway. To find the actual hideaway and to get in was a different story.
Jake narrowed the area down to a mountain range thirty miles away from the National Office. So then, with our wits about us, we searched the forests and mountainsides until we came across a secluded log-cabin. However, the cabin was surrounded by blinking lights and cop cars. We approached the scene like we were weary hikers, curious of what happened in the middle of nowhere. I feared the worst.
Jake then asked an officer what had happened but received the cold shoulder. He continued to ask different cops, but none of them were interested in telling us anything. After about ten minutes, a black van drove up and two men in black suits entered the cabin. Jake tried to look on in after them, but he was pushed back by an officer with a baton.
Luckily, no one noticed that I had circled around the back and broke in from the back window. I then ran inside to the room where the main problem happened.
There was the SC… or what was left of him.
He was hanging off a banister with a rope around his neck like a Christmas ornament. Beneath him was a toppled chair.
I gasped and attracted the attention of the two men in the suits. They then asked who I was, grabbed me without letting me answer and threw me in the van. And that’s all that happened over the last four days.”
“Is that truly all you know?” asks the speaker.
“Yes lady, now let me go. I did nothing but stick my nose in where it didn’t belong, realized something big, and was too late to stop it from happening. What else is there to know?”
There was a pause. “Well, you have been telling us the truth, but we are thinking that there is something about you that is involved in this case more than you let on or know yourself. We are convinced that the SC committed suicide from the depression that the country has given him, and yet you claim to have the only account of a third party? That cannot be a mere coincidence.”
“But it’s true! You’ve got to believe m–”
The boy suddenly shakes in his chair, like a wild animal he roared and raved about his neck about. But as he screams, a dark mist begins to envelope him from beneath his chair and around him. The black smoke that emerges from the darkness surrounds the boy until he is covered in the shadow. His screaming shifts to laughter and his spastic manner subsides. The dark silhouette stands up from the chair, easily free from its bounds. But what now stood was a black shadow with glowing, red eyes.
Its cackle claws out and its eyes stare into the dark with pleasure. It then sits back down on the chair casually, takes the microphone in hand and speaks:
“Good evening, lady.”
“W-What are you?”
“So then you don’t realize what I am?” it asks. “My name is Black, a Shadow Eater. I am the counterpart of Mr. White who sat here mere moments ago. Unbeknownst to him, I am his alter ego that emerges whenever he sleeps. However, I have decided to take control a little early for his own benefit.”
“This is impossible,” said the speaker. “I don’t understand. What on earth is a Shadow Eater? What is this all about?”
Black laughed again. “There is a world that exists underneath you this very moment. To explain, I am from that world, and as for what I am, I am what you humans have called Doppelgängers. But the truth of the matter is much simpler. We Shadow Eaters do as what we are named. We devour the shadows of living beings and are then able to take on their form. In the end, they cannot exist for long and die. So then, having this new information, would you like to find out the real story of what happened these last four days?”
(DAY 5: THE REVEAL)
“It all began four days, ago, the night of the disappearance of the SC. He was returning from a trip and landed safely at eight-o-clock. The story goes that his door had malfunctioned, but in fact, there was nothing wrong with his door. I had only told the officers that to begin the ruse.
I ate the pilot’s shadow and kept the SC on the plane to warn him to overturn his upcoming policy that would, as I have thoroughly investigated, expand his rule and any other SC to two more years in office. I let him go after an hour of trying to convince him, but he did not listen, so I kidnapped him as according to my back-up plan and kept him in his hideaway cabin. This lead to keeping people in their homes and shutting down most of the country.
The second night I then set charges on the SC’s private plane to remove any evidence of our encounter and to lead the investigators away from where he was being held. This lead to people fearing whoever could be behind the incident, even if it was blamed on a technological malfunction in the end. Along the way I attempted to convince the SC to overturn, but no luck. Final actions had to be taken.
At the third night, I devoured the SC’s shadow to pose as him, humiliate and discredit him. Once I managed to make a fool out of him to the country, I returned to hiding at the SC’s secret mountain cabin. To the people he went incognito instead of fixing the problem at hand. By then, they all hated the government the SC stood for, just as I intended.
Finally, I hung the leftover carcass of the SC to make it look like suicide from the pressures of being hated. And with that, my plan had succeeded.
However, even though my plan was flawless, my other half was hinted that something was wrong by my subconscious, and then he eventually figured everything out without my knowledge. That is, until today. So, thanks to you, I’ll be leaving with all the evidence gathered for this case… Ciao.”
*
The next day, the underground facility was found in shambles. No one there was found alive and no understanding of how it happened could be found. The only thing that remained was this video footage from a tape that was found underneath a metal chair. On it, the following words were written:
The truth dies here – White
THE END
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