The Fade
by Steven Kahm

         A fade waited at a solitary bench, high in the mountains. It was a lonely place, with no roads nor birds daring to venture towards the bench. Because it was well known, it was him who fed there, and for anyone or anything else to come here could only mean one thing.

         This fade wasn’t anything special. Like most of his kind, his skin was an ashen gray with dark locks of hair tumbling from his head. But the distinctive traits of his kind were of course the lack of mouths and the pale eyes. Were it not for those he could almost pass as human in his hoodie and blue denim jeans.

         Today someone else joined him. A woman in her mid-twenties, Tess smelled of alcohol and sat with the slump of stress upon her shoulders. One of her shoelaces was untied and her glasses were smudged.

         The fade felt like he wouldn’t be hungry again for some time.

         “I cheated on my wife last night.”

         The fade really wouldn’t be hungry after this.

         “I feel like literal garbage. God, I’m such an idiot.” Leaning back against the bench, she continued, “So how does this work exactly?”

         The fade had given up learning sign language. Some of his kind found it effective, but in his experience, not enough of his prey knew it for it to be a useful tool. This being as it was, he instead pulled out a small deck of notecards, complete with all the phrases he would need.

         ‘Just talk about it.’ the notecard read plainly.

         She nodded. “Well then, where do I even start? I feel like a piece of shit. Is that enough? Should I go back to the start of it all?”

         The fade nodded.

         “Okay then. I… I guess I need to talk about her, huh? My wife’s name is Anna. She’s stylish, pretty, perfect, and more. If you saw her here, you’d look at me like I was crazy for being unfaithful. That, or you’d wonder what she even saw in me in the first place.”

         “We were friends in high school. Just friends. I still thought I was into boys at the time, and she actually had a girlfriend. Fast forward a few years and I’m in college, three messy breakups, deep in a bottle of beer, and looking for someone to talk to… I thought about going to a fade then too.”

         She sat silently for a moment then. The fade simply pulled out a card that read, ‘go on.’

         “...well, that’s when I got back in touch with Anna. She had gone through something similar and, much like me, had hit the bottles too. Us meeting up again was a coincidence at best. From there, I don’t remember too much of what happened—bits and pieces at most—but what I do remember was the next morning.”

         “I hadn’t exactly been an experimentalist, nor had I really considered it. But yeah, it wasn’t a fluke. I liked women. From there, we started dating, and… oh God I wanna vomit… Thinking about the good times makes me feel awful.”

         The fade stood up and walked among the trees. Returning, the fade held an empty bucket and a bottle of water. Setting the bucket down in front of her, he offered her the bottle casually.

         “Oh, uh. It was a figure of speech… but thanks I guess.” Taking the water gingerly, she opened it and began to drink. Taking a moment to collect herself, she simply sighed.

         “What am I even doing here? I feel so empty and disgusting. Is everyone like this or just me?” Tess asked the fade. In reply, the fade merely shrugged before pulling out another notecard.

         ‘Need a minute?’ it read.

         Blinking slowly with tired eyes, she said, “yeah, a little bit.”

         The fade nodded, and together they sat in silence. No birds or wildlife disturbed them. No shouting or talking or any other voices could be heard. Even the wind halted for them. Beneath their feet, the dry grass of the mountain greeted them calmly. In front of them, the vast view of the surrounding area as wide as the largest canyons called out peace to them. The fade had put his bench here mostly because of the view. It made you feel small, in a good way. Or at least that was how the fade thought of it.

         The bench was a warm place, even if it was a little cold.

         After a little while longer, the fade pulled out another notecard that read, ‘Hungry?’.

         “No, not particularly—wait, do you even have food I could eat? I thought that was the whole reason fades did this. No mouths and all, needing to feed this way, etc.”

         The fade shrugged, before standing yet again to walk among the trees. From where she was sitting, the woman couldn’t see much of what happened before the fade returned with an assortment of items in his hands.

         Containers of pretzels, a box of donuts, a fun-sized candy bag, assorted nuts, trail mix, dried fruits, and more encumbered him as he walked over again to set down the snacks and foods. When the fade sat down, Tess could have sworn she heard a sigh of relief, despite his lack of mouth.

         “Wait, what? Do you really just have all of these things just lying around here? I guess I didn’t really question the water, but this? Seems like an awful lot for someone who can’t eat.”

The fade shrugged for what seemed to be the millionth time before pulling out yet another notecard, ‘It’s an aid.’ quickly followed by, ‘Need a minute?’

         “Well, I guess that settled me down a bit,” Tess said as she looked over her shoulder, trying to find where the food had come from with her eyes.

The fade whipped out the ‘Go on.’ notecard again.

         “Yeah, sorry. Um, you know what? I’m going to speed through the rest of it. Me and Anna date for a couple of years, get married, move to Withers, and now we get to the rough part. Me and Anna are not doing well financially and emotionally. We’re in debt, I’m not doing much around the house, plus the place I work goes bankrupt… All in all, not much fun, ya know?”

         The fade nodded.

         “Well we get in this yelling match, right? I know I’m not pulling my weight, but her spending hasn’t been getting any smaller either. In the end, I stormed out. It was a whole thing. Now, remember how I got back in touch with Anna? Drinking? I don’t drink much. At least not when I’m feeling alright. I’m a bit of a lightweight—as evidenced by the spotty memory of my first night with Anna—and after I stormed out, I didn’t really feel like sticking to my limits.”

         The fade nodded.

         Tess didn’t go on for a moment. The words got stuck and she sputtered. The fade gestured to the water and food before pulling out the ‘Need a minute?’ card.

         “No, I’m fine, just…”

         She shook her head before continuing, “it was my first time going out in a long while. I haven't even had a chance to check out the bars before this. So there I was, drinking alone, late at night. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

         “I won’t go into detail. But suffice it to say, I remember an incoherent mash of memories, and I can’t go back to face my wife now. How could I? I know I was drunk, but that’s not an excuse. I’ve not been good to her, I’ve not been there for her, and now this?”

         “I’ve thrown everything away. I’ve lost everything that mattered.”

         “I think… well I think there’s no point to me being here anymore.”

         “Maybe I’m overreacting. But I haven’t been a help to anyone at all, and the person I should care about most isn’t… I… Oh, God…”

         The fade wasn’t human, but he did feel things, of course. Not knowing the people involved made it a little easier for him as he watched his prey curl up on the bench. He patted her back gently, hoping to mimic a human gesture of comfort. Unable to express anything beyond his note cards and basic body language, the small overture of reassurance was the most he could afford the woman.

         He supposed she was probably in the wrong, morally speaking.

         But right and wrong didn’t feed him, it didn’t aid the process, nor did it alleviate the pain in front of him. Sometimes the fade questioned the idea of guilt and blame. He hadn’t been a saint, and neither had most people. In a situation like this, it felt like the break was inevitable. That the pain would always come, and never be warded off, regardless of what was good and bad.

         It was now that the fade began to feed in earnest. Leeching away the agony, ever so slightly, ever so carefully. Never so much that it disappeared. Never so much that it was forgotten. Just a bit off the top, enough to ease the burden. She would feel a slight numbness perhaps, maybe even the warmth or pain of some other emotions boiling underneath. But the guilt was what the fade glutted on. Fragmented memories devoured in confidence.

         The fade remembered the bar, the cheap beer, and the flurry of motion that would later follow. The taboo passion, the shame, the regret. He felt these things as though he himself was the woman named ‘Tess’. Lost after a fight, looking for some cheap comfort.

         It made his stomach crawl, his skin itch.

         But those feelings too would pass. Consumed by the fade.

         Tess was asleep by the time it was done, curled up on her side on the bench. No one would disturb her there, on the bench in the mountains. Producing a blanket, the fade pulled it over the woman. Ensuring she would find a moment’s rest. In the morning, much would be forgotten. Some details would remain of course, but it would be as though she had been struck by a small bout of amnesia. The only reminders of the fade or the bench would be the slight desaturation of her skin, her ever so slightly paler eyes, and maybe even a slight distaste for speech if she saw more fades in the future.

         But as brief as it was, his job was done.

         The fade spent around half an hour putting away his various aids in the hidden containers littered about the surroundings. Within the trunks of trees he trusted, he tucked away the snacks he stored and he ensured his cooler of drinks was well hidden still. Tomorrow he would check for prey on his bench, but for now, he was to return home.

​

         Withers was a somewhat large town, tucked away in the mountains. It was one of those towns with nothing particularly lacking, yet it had no specific draw either. It was scenic if you could get past the eternal lack of sunlight and the lack of any season other than fall.

He didn’t have enough money or desire for a car, so he always walked home. While he was passing through the mostly abandoned outskirts of town that day, he spotted a man with his back to the wall, outside of an old empty gas station.

         When it came to feeding, the fade had a process, a distinct method. He had his bench, which the other fades, and all that lived there knew to be his territory. So he didn’t normally go for stray prey. After all, he had a reliable system. More than most fades could claim to have. But the way the man stood, unlit cigarette pressed to his lips, the way he swore as he threw his now dry lighter to the ground with a swear. It was enticing in an odd way.

Despite having just fed on the woman named Tess, he decided he could go for a bit of dessert as well. There was little harm in it. Besides, he was confident no other fades would be passing this way anytime soon.

         Thankfully he had a small selection of aids he kept on him at all times. He approached the man with a notecard that read ‘Need anything?’

         Looking up with a flinch at the sound of footsteps, the man settled down when he saw the fade approach. Fades never hurt a person, at least not physically.

         “I’m fine thanks, but if you got a light I’d thank ya for that.”

         The man wore a wrinkled suit with a slight stain on his dress shirt underneath. His hair was unkempt, a little greasy even as parts of it stuck up at odd angles. He had been clean-shaven recently, but a five o’clock shadow had begun to rear its head.

         Checking his hoodie pocket, the fade produced a cheap convenience store lighter and a single cigarette for himself. For him, it was quite literally a social prop, as he lit his and held out his flame.

         Giving the mouthless fade a side-long glance the man mumbled, “thanks,” before lighting his own cigarette. In the silence that followed, the man seemed to try and ignore the fade.          Occasionally, he would glance sideways to make sure the fade was still there, but otherwise, he seemed to make no indication he wanted to interact with him.

          Knowing his tactics, the fade gave the man a moment to adjust. It had been a while since he had fed on a stray before, so maybe his stance seemed a little artificial. Stiffly standing there, the fade lacked any expression or movement. Holding his lit cigarette to the side in a mimicry of the man, he stared at him silently.

         “Look, I know your type. You fades go and look for losers like me and wait for us to cry all over ya. Well, let me tell you what. You ain’t gonna catch me doin’ none of that.”

         Looking closer at the man, the fade figured he was in his mid-thirties. His hands were rough, calloused from hard labor. He had a stiff leg, so perhaps some injury had occurred and healed oddly. In terms of musculature, he was decently built. Perhaps he had been an athlete in his youth. All of those details, combined with his leathery sun-baked skin, and the fade deduced he had been some sort of physical laborer. Perhaps a construction worker or maybe even a farmer of some sort. But from the rumpled state of the suit, it seemed he was in between jobs and unemployed, though he had been doing some physical job recently.

         Locked in his stiff position, the fade began to think about which approach he would take.

         “Look I don’t need no help, see? I appreciate the light, but you can go bugger off.”

         In response, the fade shrugged and sat down on the concrete, back against the wall. He loosened his joints and rolled his head to the side a little. He hoped he came across as relaxed, or as though he himself was tired. Then he produced a note card that read, ‘I tell no secrets.’

Patting the ground next to him, the fade chose to stare off into the distance. Let the man stew on his problems without the scrutiny of his gaze. And after a few moments of silence, the man reluctantly sat down.

         “If any of this gets out, I’ll beat the life out of ya myself. Understood?”

         The fade nodded.

         “Good, then we’re on the same page.”

         Shifting to sit more comfortably, the man took a long draw before continuing. “My insurance is shit, let me tell you. Barely even knocked anything off the medical bills. I worked in construction for some 10 or so years, was it? Then my leg gets crushed, and by the time I can stand again, my construction company had gone belly-up. So not only do I walk all awful like, but my medical bills poured me down the drain, and I’m out of a job. And none of it was my fault, of course. Some new guys didn’t see me and were careless.”

         The man waved in the air to his left. “It was over that way. Big, old, fancy, rich people neighborhood. Complete with pools and a golf course nearby. Thought we had hit it big. I thought we hit it big. Then complications rose up, new people were brought on, and fast forward a few months the entire project gets taken over by someone else. Can they even do that? I wasn’t big on the whole paperwork thing, but that don’t sit right with me. Not one bit.”

         The man coughed a little and wiped some snot from his face.

         “But I guess that ain’t even the worst of it. All that stuff wasn’t my fault. But even before the accident, I was big on the slots. I know it’s a losing game, but there were nights where I left the casino with big wins mind you. I’ve stayed away for a little bit now, going anywhere is a pain with this leg. But it certainly didn’t help that when the medical bills hit I was already in debt.”

         “I guess that’s the part I hate the most. No money, part my fault, part not. I wasn’t crazy, I knew I wasn’t going anywhere special. But I at least thought I could keep it going, ya know? Construction was good, honest. Didn’t do nothin’ illegal. People worse than me get away just fine.”

The man was silent for a while. During that time, the fade dropped his cigarette with a sharp pain that hit his fingers. Rubbing his hand, he looked at the burnt-out snub on the ground. The other man had pulled out another cigarette and had already begun holding it out for a light. The fade considered stopping the man, he had heard smoking was unhealthy, but the man didn’t need that right then. He needed a light.

         Putting the lighter back in his pocket, the fade took to sitting with crossed legs. A little bit more and he would be able to finish off the process of feeding. He could feel it.

         “With all my money problems I have a hard time facing my daughter. Her mother passed away some few years back, and she’s struggling in high school. But even so, I can’t bring myself to visit her. She’s living with her stepdad nowadays, and don’t get me wrong, he’s an ok enough guy, but she’s my kid. I should be the one she turns to, yet I can’t even pay the rent.”

         “Agh, but what do you even care anyway? You’re just here to eat it all away right? You don’t care about me proper. You're just here to watch me be all pathetic like, fill your belly. Guess I can’t blame you, though. Monsters need to eat too, I guess.”

         The fade blinked slowly. It was a common response, especially with strays and the reluctant volunteers. He pulled out a notecard that read, ‘I can care and eat at the same time. I shouldn’t be the only one that gets anything out of this.’ It was one of his longest notecards. Despite rarely using this one, he never regretted carrying it around. In a way, he used that card to reassure himself more than anything else.

         Even so, the man barely reacted to the card, grunting as he saw it.

         “Doesn’t matter I suppose. So there, I’ve told you my problems. I know you can’t solve them, but hell would it be good to forget a little.”

         A small part of the fade wanted to push for more. He didn’t even know the man’s name after all. But he could tell from the way the man looked away, that he’d learn nothing more. His walls had gone back up, as it were. So instead, he decided to simply feed.

For a moment, the fade wasn’t a fade at all. He was a man crying out in pain over a destroyed limb. He was in front of one of the new slot machines. He was reading a letter from a daughter he couldn’t muster up the courage to face.

         But this brief sensation faded, as it too was consumed by the fade.

         The man’s eyes fluttered as he warded off the drowsiness and his skin began to lose its rich tan hue, fading to the color of dull clay. He didn’t say anything more, and neither did the fade. Nothing more could be done to help.

 

         As the fade finally arrived home at his tiny apartment, he stepped inside lethargically before closing the door. It was a cramped space, a one-room apartment with a small kitchenette and separate bathroom. But for his needs, it suited just fine.

         Getting ready to sleep, he peeled off his hoodie and tossed it aside. He opened his mini-fridge, retrieving his pillow and blanket kept inside. Ensuring the AC was at a pleasant 60 degrees Fahrenheit, he readied his bed before falling into it himself.

         In the dwindling hours before he slept, he pulled out his smartphone. Cracked on the screen, it was worn and needed replacing. Quickly hopping through his texts and various social media accounts, he memorized his lineup for the week. Tomorrow around 1:00 pm, he’d meet a man named Tom at his bench. The day after that, he had two separate meetings, one at his bench and the other hosted at his prey’s home. For the rest of his week, he had different meetings with an entire family.

         Marking the details of these arrangements on his digital calendar, the fade was finally content enough to sleep. Setting aside his phone and readying his alarm clock, he turned over and closed his eyes.

         Within his dreams, he would see many things and be many things. But like always, chief among them were the emotions and memories he had eaten that day. The shame of the woman, the frustration of the man, and all the other emotions that had come with them swirled around in his mind as he slept.

         Eventually, the alarm clock would ring, and yet another day much the same would start. More pain, more sadness, more shame, and many more would come his way. And each and every time, he would be there to lend an ear here and there. To lessen their burden, to consume their poison. Everyone needed a trusted confidant, a shoulder to cry upon.

         To make all of the pain fade, even just a little bit.