Whispers in the Monster's Shadow

You never thought dandelions could be merciless. Letty believed that a hundred percent, and that same belief had found a special place in her brain despite the stabbing pain that swallowed her ankle. Though each step felt like thorns in her sole, she kept her composure intact and her vision steady; her breaths in rhythm with her feet in strides, like a highly depleted Olympian who never knew defeat. Her eyes burned with sweat and tears like her bronzed skin kissed by the midday sun; her mind too frantic to think or care about anything. Even when she felt like a thousand needles pricked her skin, she took a step forward.

Only God knew where this could go, she thought, watching the man’s back and two rifles resting on his shoulders. Another survivor from another lost group, she noted, flashing empathy on her face. She swirled her head in all directions, hovering her sight across the sea of trees because it was the only thing she could do. To keep an eye on the monsters. Because, in her mind, one thing was crystal clear.

He was a warrior. She was a burden.

Unarmed, all she had was strategy. Without any martial arts know-how, she was sure she didn’t want to get stuck in the thick forest in the middle of the night. She could barely lift a leg and open her eyes to see a far distance, let alone fight, with only clothes and journals in her backpack. With her weight doubling from last year, getting involved with physical combat wasn’t an option. If she were to fight, her strength was nowhere against the dandelions. Definitely not with injury.

When she couldn’t move a step, she stopped and lamented, mentally preparing herself for the man’s argument. Because she knew there was no way for them to stop. Not until they could find a safe place to stay. Not in the middle of the forest. But the pain had conquered her logic and went beyond understanding.

“Can we stop here?”

Oh my God, she told herself, wiping the sweat on her forehead with her forearm. She wished to spend another hour underneath a shade. If lucky, a bed would be great. A luxury for the rest of the night before moving on to the next destination. It would also be cool if they could find shelters filled with food. Besides, she had to eat, and they hadn’t eaten anything decent for days. Her stomach already roared like a hungry lion in famished Africa.

Plus, she desperately needed sleep. Or at least a few hours to mourn for what she’d lost. Friends, family, and places that bear her childhood memories. Almost a week after this hysteria began, the whole town fell. The nation, in a total blackout. She hadn’t had the time to grieve. Not even to cry out loud.

For the first time, Mother Earth was silent within a week as if modern technology had skipped this timeline. No radio signals, no broadcasting, no communications. Whatever these dandelions were and whoever was responsible for this, they sure had planned it well enough to destroy the greatest country in the world in a single week without dropping a single nuke on the land. Buildings were left unscathed. Roads, eerily quiet. Abandoned cars zigzagged the bridges. It was as if the UAPs conquered the world and kidnapped the entire population, then left them somewhere in the galaxy for good.

“You know we can’t. We’re still miles away from the next part of the town.” He dipped his eyes on her ankle and clucked, sighing in disappointment. Frustrated about the unplanned pause. His eyebrows curled and met in the middle. “Can you still walk?”

“I can, but barely,” she stuttered.

He bent his knees and grabbed her leg to look closely at the injury. “You need painkillers. Maybe we could find some meds along the way. But for now, we should go. We can’t stay here.”

Out of the blue, he paused, holding his breath, slowly resting her leg on the ground. He stiffened for a second before he lifted a rifle in position as he rose.

Studying him, she jolted, feeling the uncomfortable tingles and sensations wrap around her body. “What is it?”

Her gut narrowed, her insides lurched as panic grew. With the remainder of her strength, she pushed herself to get up, gritting her teeth, groaning, almost screaming in pain. She wished she could cry, but no. She can’t be a whiny baby now. “Hey, are they around? Do you see them?”

He shook his head and rubbed his scarlet eyes down to his bearded chin, then tightened his lips as though mentally preparing a speech but too afraid to comply. She couldn’t blame him, she argued. Since they met, he hadn’t talked much or shared a past before this chaos. Like her, he must have felt the same powerlessness, and the fact that he, as a man, cannot do anything made him feel sick. Sick enough to feel those words like vomit stored in his mouth.

Despite the lack of introduction, trust was natural, as if they’d known each other for a long time. Perhaps that same trust fueled a cry that slipped out of his mouth. Her heart ached.

“They said dandelions bear the children’s dreams. But how could they…” He couldn’t finish the sentence and offered himself a rueful laugh like he deserved all of this. “My daughters love dandelions. They always ask me to bring home a handful every time I return home from work.” His voice raised a pitch, immediately punching her achy heart.

Her eyes turned scarlet and teary. But out of sheer will, she swallowed those tears back to where they were. Her voice was steady when she spoke. “Where are they?”

“Guess,” he said, wiping his eyes.

Anticipating he would say more, she waited, speeding her mind with possibilities. She wanted to ask about his wife, his life before this, but no. Maybe she wished he could speak more, to get to know him better, only to be disappointed when he gestured, telling her to get moving. A stifled sigh escaped her mouth as she sucked in a breath, preparing herself to welcome the agony. Desperate for a distraction, she pierced her eyes at the man’s back.

“Do you miss them?”

“I do.” His feet slowed, and out of nowhere, he offered a genuine smile. The first genuine smile she saw, then suddenly retracted it. Perhaps those memories were too painful to swallow and relive, she assumed, noting his fading smile. He didn’t say anything since they reached the end of her hometown. At least two hundred meters above sea level.

Looking over the once-blossoming hometown, tears welled around her eyes, wishing this was a dream she could wake up. Lifting her face to the skies, streaks of orange and dark hues covered the sun, slowly hiding behind the buildings. Her heart ached even more, thinking about how she survived. Maybe if she were to die now, at least she realized something she would never forget—how precious life was. Intangible but holy. Holy enough to fight with all your might, with all your soul.

Without the people’s strength, she wouldn’t have been here. Without him, she doubted she could even achieve something she never thought she would greatly appreciate. Being alive.

And by staying alive meant walking miles long hidden and trusting one another with their heart and soul on the line. It meant responsibility to keep the memories of their loved ones alive, though they left their dead bodies behind.

Reeling from the memories of her parents and baby brother, who celebrated his first birthday last month, soft sobs sneaked out of her mouth. Her face soured as the unsolicited images of their previous trip to Disneyland flooded her brain. Imagine you waited a year for this trip, only to turn out the last civil thing you would do.

After a time, she caught the man slowing down. Her feet stopped dead. Her eyes rounded in thick fear again. “What is it?” The only thing she could say with a strained voice. Too soft even.

Yet, he caught it and hushed her, lifting his rifle in position. Tension spread evenly across their faces. “They’re here. Go. In the bush,” he said in a loud whisper and grabbed her arm, dragging her behind the bushes. “Be quiet. They’re close.”

“But I thought they wouldn’t go out of the highway,” she said on bent knees, slowly feeling the warm, stabbing pain in her ankle.

“I thought so, too. But it seems they’re changing plans.”

“So what should we do now?”

“I don’t know.”

What? Her eyes shook. Her lips halted. Her breathing paused for a second, watching the giant dandelions rolling crowd the street in misconfigured arrays. Like a thousand fluffy Totoros in two different groups in a silent rampage, swallowing people they encountered. Some had golden-yellow petals flowing through the air, silvery-white seeds flying in miniature parachutes.

To her knowledge, their extremely sensitive senses could detect anything human. And bullets were seeds on their skin. Whoever dared to modify dandelions, turning a weed into gigantic monsters, outsmarted everyone. When everybody armed up, preparing their soldiers for nuclear showers, they chose the harmless-looking weed in your grandma’s garden for a weapon. With the government’s sneaky alliance, they made it through the soil, growing and moving freely, spreading seeds to wipe out civilization.

Now, they were coming at them, and they were getting closer and closer in each breath. Covering her mouth with both hands, she tried not to release a sound, though she wanted to scream right there. Despite the distance, she could feel their eyes touch her skin.

After they passed, the man carefully rose and kept her close to his side. “Let’s go.”

Without qualms, she nodded, though her ankle begged for painkillers. Immediately, her frustration quickly turned into anger. The kind of anger that would make you punch a coconut tree several times until your knuckles bleed. She was beyond desperate.

Only when she looked in the opposite direction did her lips curve into a soft smile. The widest smile she had that day. A hut welcomed her eyes, her tummy growled. As it turned out, it was brief, now noticing the man’s loud pause. Her eyebrows furrowed, wanting to ask why they had to stop.

Then, her eyes welcomed the gigantic dandelion in front of them.

She cussed. Her eyebrows arched in awe for a minute before reality sank into her head. Fear struck her chest. But before she could react, her heart skipped a beat as the loud gunshots rammed her ears. She hunched down, falling to her knees in sheer horror.

The man might have said something in between, but the tinnitus blocked both ear passages. Her vision warped, moving in circles. Her mind? Confused, not knowing what to do. All she knew was his strong hand grabbed her arm and threw her out of the scene. Under the blanket of flying bullets, she crawled. She tried to articulate the words but was distracted by the monster’s roots slithering around like cobras on the hunt.

“What?” The only sentence she could find in her brain, cautiously rising to her feet.

“I said run! To the hut.” He pointed the rifle in that direction before slipping another magazine into the gun.

Tears crawled down and dampened her red cheeks. “How about you?”

“Just run. I got this.” His eyes on the dandelion. “Come on, baby. Give me a good damn fight.” He began to rain the monster with the remainder of his bullets.

Defenseless, she ran, pausing in between, screaming for his attention, imploring him to come to her now. But he couldn’t hear her, she assumed, noting his laser-focused attention on the fight. As the rifle jammed, the shock smeared across her face, watching him throw the guns he had and run to the woods. His life was at the mercy of his feet, but it didn’t take long before he got caught.

Within seconds, the dandelion devoured him alive like a beer jerky in its mouth. From a distance, his scream struck her ears. Her shoulders lowered in defeat, realizing she was alone. Alone to fight, alone to die.

She blinked. Her body screamed the last energy, running until she arrived at the hut, frantically knocking on the door. “Is someone there? Help me! Please.” 

When she couldn’t hear anything, she checked for open windows to break inside. She peeped through the dusty winds, and immediately, hope sparked, noting the filled cupboard. Whoever owned this place must have vanished like her family after a big grocery, leaving everything behind. Packed kitchen, leftovers on the dining table.

Excitement filled her nerves, rushing to find a possible entrance. If she could just—

An ice-cold chill ran through her spine to the base of her head, her eyes on the door’s reflection. Her heart thundered as she traced the dandelion’s silhouette behind her. She thought this was it, whisking her tears out of her eyes.

And it sucked. Because she was almost there. Indulgence was in sight.

If that wasn’t enough to shatter her hope, she caught the crispy sound of its leaves and the whirls of its miniature parachutes floating above its head. The wind brushed her face with warm, late afternoon air, reminding her of what she was about to lose. Even with a sunshade, it wasn’t enough to simmer the cocktail mix of anger and fear swallowing her system. It wasn’t enough to cool her blood, to convince herself she would survive. Intact.

Cautiously, she turned around and offered her eyes on the monster. Besides, it was her last day, and she had nothing to lose if she were to die. At least she could see this creature in detail, like a memento. Something she could keep in mind in the afterlife.

Out of the blue, its pappus moved closer and studied her in detail, leaving her briefly shutting her eyes, sucking in a breath. It was surprisingly cold, fluffy, and soft. As the leaves wrapped her, lifting her, she caught its friendly blue-green eyes for the first time, like two aquamarines glued on a puffball.

What a lovely monster, she told herself, oddly feeling the warmth of its gaze. “Kill me,” she whispered, wishing it was audible enough. When it didn’t work, she drew in air to supply her soft, raspy scream. “I said kill me.”

She pumped her arms and legs, striking punches everywhere her hands and feet struck until exhaustion hit her. Drained, she didn’t have enough strength to flinch, even when baffled at the sight of its malleable arms brushing her cheeks.

With each touch, a childhood memory flashed behind her eyes. The ones she thought she had forgotten and buried in the depths of her consciousness. During those moments, she played with dandelions herself. Each scene played like film strips underneath her skull, glowing with magical golden dust. Confused, her eyebrows furrowed, her lips curved, wanting to ask why she was getting these images, these feelings she thought she’d moved on, along with those she’d tried to avoid and repress for a long time.

Before she could speak, the creature pulled her closer to its face and studied her, flashing its meaningful gaze. Its mouth eased open, releasing frequencies she could barely hear but felt like tremors in her skin. To her surprise, a young male’s tender voice came out of nowhere, and his loving whisper sneaked inside her ears. “Why aren’t you afraid?”

Eyeing its leaf, wiping her tears, she flicked her head to hide her face and the surprise that came along. She expelled warm air from her mouth. “Why should I? I’m going to die anyway,” she stuttered.

“No. I’m not going to do that. ‘Cause you aren’t scared of me.” Its lips curved into a smile.

Wow, it had lips hiding beneath the surface, she mused, keeping her expression clean, pretending she wasn’t dumbfounded. She cocked an eyebrow. “How could you say so? Why spare my life? Why don’t you just kill me, like how you killed my family and that man?”

The dandelion moaned. “No. I can’t. ‘Cause we don’t take fearless souls. We keep them alive.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. A smug was eloquent. “Fearless? You fuckin’ kidding me. I’m not brave.”

“I know you are ‘cause I see your soul. You’re the bravest, Letty.”

Her eyes popped. The smugness faded. Her cheeks froze. “How do you know my name?”

If that wasn’t enough to confuse her, its arms slithered through the doorframe and unlocked it. “It’s better if you stay here for a while. It’s safer.”

“Says the killer.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Who are you? Why are you talking to me?”

As the pause continued, way too long to keep her patience on track, she scoffed in annoyance and felt trapped, enduring the look in the dandelion’s gaze as if she were, indeed, the apple of the eye.

She went on, spilling her thoughts at a speedy pace. “Why are you here? Who sent you? Is this World War 3?” she paused, expecting an answer, but nothing came out of its mouth. “Answer me!”

In a blink, the door cracked open.

Caught off-guard, she flinched, observing the dandelion's gesture, carefully resting her until her feet met the ground. Her eyes rounded as they struck the living room, the clean space. Before she could say thank you, she felt a strong push behind her, forcing her to march inside.

“Don’t leave ‘til I get back.”

“Wait. Where are you going?” She turned around and ran to the door, only to see the door slam shut. Locked.