Supernatural Fan Fiction posted September 25, 2017 Chapters: -1- 2... 

Not yet exceptional. When the exceptional rating is reached this is highlighted
The other side of the shadows begins here

A chapter in the book Fortune Cookies


by Cybertron1986

Eu El, a young boy with a hidden gift, experiences out-of-the ordinary dreams and interactions with his world and a world less understood. A world known as:

The Other Side of the Shadows.

In the summer of 1987, the former number one song on the Pop Charts, "Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," by U2, fell to Madonna's "Who's That Girl."

These two song titles would unknowingly continue to haunt this boy's confusing, but content life in a way he could never imagine. Quite possibly, the Universe was conspiring to warn him of an event that would be excluded from anyone but him. This event would either conclude as the end of days, or the continuation of humankind.

Eu El's many other childhood memories constantly occupied his thoughts, but none as subtly purposeful as what was to occur. In fact, even then, if anyone figured out what the Universe was telling him, no one living would see this as a blessing for any child.

If, however, there were to be any teen capable of competing with the supernatural, then fate could not have chosen a more suitable candidate than Eu El, a boy with a name his father unintentionally gave him without considering the consequences of his son explaining the origin of the name to curious people throughout a lifetime. Coincidently, this name is similar to a fictional super hero, whose "El" stood for hope in a faraway planet destroyed by a solar explosion.

Evoked by a simple question that had yet to be asked, a boy's life would soon evolve into an uncontrollable and frightful anomaly that would haunt him behind almost every dark corner, lingering where few ever visited and fewer believers, and non-believers are willing to accept even if whatever they discovered in there stared back with glowing eyes.

In one such corner, Eu El patiently keeps out of sight from his father. Quietly, he waits for that moment he could get his dad's attention without having to interrupt his HBO time.

Too young to understand the demands of a job, Eu El could not see why his father worked so hard for paying the monthly cable subscription. He had no idea the extra money was needed to fulfill the dreams of his immigrant relatives before Eu El's aspirations of one day becoming either an Olympic sprinter, professional baseball player, or comic book store owner.

"Dad, can I join little league?" Eu El recalls asking in the fifth grade.

His Dad's usual response was, "No! You're going to fail! Don't waste my time!"

His respect to his father was much like Eu El's existence: both went unnoticed after he completed the crawling stage of his physical development.

At the finale of each T.V. program, his dad committed to one of two things:

He either took a bathroom break, or he grabbed a cold drink from the fridge before returning to his couch to dabble with the channel changer for the remainder of the evening, and fall asleep.

The good news was satellite t.v. had yet to be available for another five years. Any sooner, the distraction of advanced technology may have convinced his dad he never had a second-born son.

The thought of freshman year approaching made his last summer as a kid feel as if it was doomed to end like some kind of disastrous movie without a satisfying resolution. He prepared a list of questions for his dad that sounded more like a bucket list written in question form:

Can you take me fishing, Dad? (And, I don't mean just literally taking me to the lake and dumping me there this time).

Mom said you were a catcher in high school. Can you teach me how to throw?

Dad, the last movie we watched together was "Raiders of the Lost Ark." I was in the second grade. Will we ever watch a movie again?

But, there seemed to be more pressing questions occupying his mind. Questions harbored from worry, which distracted him from all the other questions. If no effort was made to seek answers, then these questions would linger for a lifetime like an unseen presence burdening the shoulders until his sanity snapped.

Like a candle that was moments away from burning the last length of its wick, the exhaustion of his quest simmered the remaining radiance of innocence in the core of Eu El's thirteen year old being.

"Dad, why'd you give mom's Christmas present she bought me in the first grade to my cousin?"

"Dad, why do we always ignore my birthdays?"

"Do you still love mom? Why did you break all her plants?"

His mom's voice coincidently interrupts his thoughts. "It's late! Go to bed!"

"Okay, mom!"

His swell of anxiousness conjures up a mutter of a word drowned in neglect, indicating the incomplete distillation of doubt within his voice, where the solution rested.


He waits again as he did before for a reply. However, much like every night, the re-runs seemed to dominate Eu El's stuttering voice.

Repositioning himself in front of his father, his back toward the t.v., Eu El finds his dad asleep. The consistency of his father's habits leads him to hypothesize the possibility of television having a direct impact in the flat lining of brain activity.


"Wha...What?" his father finally responds as if the sound of his son's voice resuscitated him from death.

"Eu El! Go to sleep!" his mother, again on cue, interrupts from her room.

"I'm just asking Dad something!"

Perhaps, it was the annoyance of being hurried by his mother. Or, maybe, it was the innate nature of a son's eagerness to converse with his father that was to blame for speaking before thinking. Instead of asking any of his prepared questions, Eu El decides on a different topic: the relatives.

He knew this is the sort of topic that would motivate his father to talk endlessly, but the mention of relatives would be like opening Pandora's box.

To Eu El, after all the trouble his father put him through, releasing unimaginable evil into the world seemed like a fair trade.

As innocent and harmless as his question began, Eu El unknowingly opened the door to a familiar, but unspoken shadow of reality hiding in the midst of the world's denial with just six words:

"Dad, did I ever meet Grandpa?"

"Huh...?" he replied, half awake. "Grandpa? He was a gambler. Never home. *Mahjong."

"Did we ever meet?"


"What do you mean 'sorta?'"

"What?" his father responds, bewildered that a conversation between him and his second born was transpiring. "You were two years old. He sorta visited us when we lived in Novato."

Confused, but content with where the direction of their conversation was heading, Eu El continues, slightly more bolder and not overthinking.

"I don't get it, Dad. I thought you said Grandpa never traveled to America."

His deduction was enough for his father to take a quick confused glance at Eu El's curious eyes before reconnecting back with the television. "Well, when he visited, you weren't old enough to remember."

"I don't get it."

Never looking at his channel changer, his father shuts the televsion off as effortlessly as a blind man reads brail. Straightening his posture on his recliner, he begins to tell the story his son already lived, but could not recall. Even with much effort, his father still did not appear comfortable.

"Well," he repeats straightening his back, "you were still in diapers, playing with your brother. Your brother ran outside yelling somebody had walked inside the room. You were too young to talk, but you were babbling with someone who wasn't there."

Eu El's gaze turns into that sort of lost look of a child who had not mastered the basics of arithmetic, but is trying to solve a calculus problem.

At the same time, the discomforting echo of "someone who wasn't there" was enough to burrow into his mind, and crawl back out from his pores in the form of goosebumps.

"Then, I saw you pushing your trucks in front of you as if you were playing with someone."

"Then what?" Eu El asks, clearly spooked. "Who was it?"

"I don't know. Well, I didn't know until after you rolled your toy trucks to the empty spot where your brother was sitting."

"Then, what?"

"I," his father clears his throat. "I saw how each time you rolled your truck, the truck rolled back to you."

"You mean, like, on their own?"

"Yeah," his father validates. "They rolled back to themselves."

"You wouldn't remember this," his dad reminds him, noticing the hint of denial in his eyes. "But, I know what I saw."

With a choke of disbelief, Eu El struggles to ask, "What happened afterwards?"

"The telephone rang. And, that's when I understood."

"Understand what?"

"Your relatives overseas called. But, they only call for a couple of reasons. First, if they need money. Or, if someone died. It wasn't coincidence how, on the night they called, something strange happened."

His father pauses as he notices the hint of acceptance begin to reveal from his son's eyes.

"Before our relatives said anything, I told them, 'Don't say it. I already know. My dad is dead, isn't he?'"


* Mahjong is a tile based game that originated from China. It is played similarly to rummy.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Save to Bookcase Promote This Share or Bookmark
Print It Print It View Reviews

You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.

© Copyright 2018. Cybertron1986 All rights reserved. Registered copyright with FanStory.
Cybertron1986 has granted, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.