A Shapeshifter Story.
By the award-winning author of Refuse.
Follow the author’s progress on Facebook
From Dean Angeles…
Dean stepped towards the figure until he stood beside him. The man was looking down at the water. Dean got a better look at him as his eyes adjusted to the dark. He had nearly shoulder length dark hair and a goatee. He was handsome. Wolfish. Sullen. He was dressed in a cloak, despite that it was a warm summer’s night.
“Dean, where are we standing?”
“What?” Dean said. This definitely wasn’t anyone who lived on the property. But he knew Dean’s name. “I took hallucinogens,” Dean reminded himself.
“What manner of creature are we?” the man asked, still staring at the black water.
“What?” Dean said again. He was almost amused but mostly nervous.
“What manner of creature are we, Dean, that we should look down upon the stars?”
Dean looked down at the black water and saw that the entire sky was perfectly reflected. He felt dizzy as he looked into the abyss. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“What. Manner. Of creature. Are we?” The man repeated. Then silence.
“Who are you?” Dean asked.
“I am Sam,” he said.
This was definitely not the same person as his friend Sam.
“Are we gods?” Sam continued. More silence, as if he expected an answer from Dean. This Sam, wherever he had come from, was clearly also on drugs.
“I don’t understand,” Dean said.
“Are we gods, Dean, to look down upon the stars?”
Dean said nothing. How do you answer that?
The man turned towards him. “What is it you want, Dean?”