The Shape Shifter
Shape Shifter, one that can change his appearance at will. One who can travel between times in history.
The shapeshifter is an Indian myth. Like the Weendigo and the Stick People, it is an enduring myth that has been around for centuries. But is it really a myth?
Slowly he walked down Wall Street, the financial capital of the United States. Fortunes won and lost here on a daily basis. Young men and women hurrying back and forth, seeking their fortune. Homeless begging for a dollar. The rich arrive and leave in their limos. Yes, this was Wall Street the heart of the financial capital of the world. A world not familiar to most but in its own way it controlled the lives of hundreds of millions.
A deeper look shows the money being delivered to politicians in many different forms, they in turn would do as they were told. To the plain people that toiled daily to survive and feed their families the politicians of all stripes were men and women of power, but all is never as it appears.
A still deeper look, shows the ''Power Brokers'', those that really control the economy. These were men that few knew of. They were shadows that traveled in Limos and private jets. Lived in guarded mansions, and had homes around the world. They had no heart, no love, except for money. These people held the future of millions in their hands and when they made decisions the welfare of the people was never part of their ''deals''.
In the late 19th century and early 20th century there were called the ''Robber Barons'', today they have no name, and no media coverage they control lives and the economy yet no one really knows who they are. They live in a world of opulence and winning at all costs.
He kept walking, not fast, not slow. His steps were soft, his eyes missed nothing. No one took notice of him, just another tourist looking at the center of money and power in America.
Little did those that took time to notice him, know or understand his mission. If they did, perhaps they would have changed their lives.
He had walked this street now for a month. Taking in everything, missing nothing. Soon it would be time to act.
A few days later a sharply dressed man entered the building of the most powerful brokerage house on Wall Street. Jet black hair complimented sharp blue eyes and a skin color that was more bronze than brown. He walked with an assured gait, one that almost seemed like he was floating on air. No one stopped someone that looked that important. They had seen him step out of a limo at the front door before he entered the building. That was the sign of money and power. A sign that he belonged and was not to be questioned in any manner.
He walked up to the information booth that had cameras and computers aligned to see all. He stopped in front of a man in a suit and asked to see Mr. Woods. With the mention of Woods's name, the man scanned him looking for anything that would give him more information on this man. Few people knew Woods's name, much less that he had an office here. This raised a serious question in man's eyes, a well-trained eye that wasn't simply an information person but someone that had for years honed his skills that included guarding some of the most secretive and powerful people in the world. His antennas were up and at full alert.
He told him that there was no Mr. Woods there. The man smiled and said, ''I believe that you're mistaken''. He reached below the counter and pressed a button, two men stepped out from behind the partition.
No sir, I'm not mistaken, there is no Mr. Woods here. Security was now only a few feet from the man when they heard a low growl. A dog in here, there is no way, yet they turned. The lobby looked the same, people going back and forth, elevators going up and down, all was normal.
When they turned back to question the man, he was gone. They had not seen him leave and they assumed that he had left the building.
On the top floor of the building was a very private office, it cover the entire floor. The well-dressed man got out of the elevator and opened the door to the office. There was a spacious lobby with a lady sitting at a very large expensive desk. Behind her were two men, dressed in business suits, but their appearance was not that of an executive, more like bodyguards, which they were.
He walked in and asked to see Mr. Woods. The look on the receptionist's face was a look of stunned disbelief. Who in the hell was this man, and how did he know the name of the most powerful of all power brokers?
The security men moved toward him. The receptionist called for more security.
The man didn't move, nor did he say anything else.
''Sir, you'll have to leave, this a high-security area, and no one is allowed in here''.
Yes, I know said the man. I do plan on seeing Mr. Woods though. With that, he simply walked past the stunned guards into Mr. Wood's office.
Wood's looked up and saw a stranger, his hand started reaching for the secret ''alarm'' button, but halted in mid-move. Woods was rarely taken aback or surprised, his power and money that bought that power ensured him that there were many that would risk their lives to protect his. Yet, here was this person in his office and none of his ''protectors'' were there to interfere with this stranger.
Before his eyes, the man was changing from a businessman into something that Wood's had no idea how to deal with.
Now, before he was an Indian, tall, over six feet with long braided hair, his eyes piercing, burning with anger. Streaks of paint were on his face.
Woods thought that he was something out of an old Western movie, yet here he was standing before him, so close that he could reach out and touch him.
The man began to talk to Woods, who sat in stunned disbelief, unable to say or do a thing.
Mr. Woods, I am called Stone Hand, for you to better understand my position I would tell you that I am a protector. You have, through your minions taken money that you are not entitled to, money from my people. You have cheated and caused great harm to them. When that evil visits my people then I visit that evil. So you see here I am telling you that this deed that has hurt my people cannot go unpunished, you will return to them, all the monies that you have cheated them out of.
Woods was beside himself. I didn't cheat anyone, it was all legal, his voice raising fist clenching, yet no one came to his aid.
“Yes, according to you it was legal, but according to me, it wasn't. Now it is time for you to repay it. If you don't repay it, then the forces of my power will haunt you.”
With that Stone Hand turned and was gone. Woods started laughing, “Haunt me if I don't repay them...What a joke this guy is,” thought Woods.
Months passed and no monies were received by ''The People''.
Then it started. His driver pulled into the parking garage of his private office. There, standing at the elevator door was the Warrior in full regalia, waving him into the elevator. Screaming for his bodyguards Wood stood frozen. The guards saw no one.
A few days later at his private health club, Woods was jogging on the track, he felt he was being followed. He looked over his shoulder and there was Stone Hand, face painted, a knife in his hand, slowly jogging behind Woods.
That night, Woods was looking out the window of his mansion, feeling safe, no one could get past the security. There, in his yard were three Indian women with their children. Each stared into his home. Woods jumped back from the window and had security check the yard, no one was there. No sign that anyone had been there. Am I losing my mind, he thought to himself.
The next week, he took his son to the Polo Club, being an avid player and horseman, he would help his son become as good as he was. He told the stable boy to bring him their horses. Soon the stable boy came, bringing two horses. Woods looked in terror at them. These were not Polo Ponies, they were without saddle, a rope bridle and paint on their bodies. ''War Ponies'' he knew what he was seeing or was he seeing them?
Back at his mansion, Wood was beginning to think that he was going crazy. He began using more and more cocaine, his behavior became more erratic. He had security with him at all times.
One night, he was attacked by an Indian, but it couldn't be, he was in his own bedroom with his wife. Security was everywhere. He sat up in bed, covered in sweat, he looked down at his body and it was covered in blood. Screaming he tried to wipe the blood from his body. His wife, sitting there in terror, she had never seen him like this. Then she turned on the bedside light. Oh Lord no, he screamed. There beside his bed were Warriors, fierce faces staring at him, war clubs cover in blood. And then that low growl, chilling in its sound. The sound of death coming for him, throwing his arm up to cover his face, he felt the bed jump, and he looked out from behind his arm. There, on his bed were two huge creatures. Snarling, the deep sound of death coming from their throats. Yellow eyes, freezing him in place, lips curled, showing blood-covered fangs.
Behind the wolves were the Merchants of his death. They moved towards him. His last grip on sanity released, Woods slipped into the world of insanity.
His wife told the police and his doctor that he was dreaming and screaming about wolves and Indians before he slipped away.
Months later, Wood sat in a mental institution, catatonic, eyes staring at nothing. He was no longer of this world, he was in a nightmarish world of savage killers, each dream more frightening than the last.
Far away, money was sent to the people that had been cheated. Once again, the tribe was secure, and their money was returned.
No one sat in Woods' chair, nor would they use his office. The fear that enveloped them led to the return of the money.
A well-dressed man was walking down the streets of Washington D.C. Now it was time to visit others who had lied and cheated The People.
Kavika 2013. All Rights Reserved. Do not use without permission.
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Beware ''The Protector''.
Enjoy
I was kind of hoping that stone hand would've had mr woods shapeshift into a large rock before passing thru his office window and dropping the first 30 floors, but looking over his shoulder a few months before going insane works too. great story.
By going insane he is trapped forever in his own delusions, there is no escape.
there's no escape from doing a 50 floor cannonball and hitting the sidewalk at 120+mph either...
Yes, and that makes the story work better. This could have been a Twilight Zone episode
his spirit was evicted from his brain...
Another amazing and thrilling story, Kavika. There may be a few who read it that might think twice about how they treat others. There are many strange things that happen in the world.
And.... who can say for sure it's merely a "myth."
Thanks, RW.
mystery with a side of terror resulting in justice.
Indeed dev. And a story written as only Kavika can write it. It makes the dampness one feels in their chonies as they read it seems to justify the emotions stirred by the story itself, no matter how many times one reads it.
Why do you do this to me? Haha
You know I love your writing but I am going to have to wait until morning with a cup of coffee.
Black water medicine (coffee) will help, maybe...LOL
Stone Hand returns !!!
With a vengeance.
I really like it when the inhabitants of the NA spirit world show up...
... and reek havoc on corrupt humans.
they especially terrify those of english, scandinavian, and irish descent...
LMAO
... and speaking of getting rid of evil people by driving them insane...
scary...
Never able to escape the dreams, each one more horrible than they last...for eternity
somewhat like the last 7 years then...
LOL, yup.
Ah, the return of the tension, the excitement, being unable to stop reading even if it were to take hours, but now back to the security of knowing that Stone Hand would have no reason to visit me, and a sigh of relief.
Always best to avoid the visits of Stone Hand.
Cool story!
Happy that you enjoyed it, EG.
One of your best tales. Puts a shiver down my spine!
Yes, the spiritual world of the Ojibwe can be terrifying for some.
it's the gray wolf and his pack that scare me...
Do you mean the ''Ghost Wolves?''
maybe, I don't know, I'm a freaking paleface...
LOL, no worries you're a good paleface.
>whew< I don't need any stone hand visits or nightmares.
No worries, you're safe.
I hope so...
Sorry just getting to this; I've been limiting my activity for quite some time but glad I found this!
Happy that you enjoyed it, Mac.
All I can say is WOW.
Happy that you enjoyed it, Veronica.
who doesn't like knowing or watching when wealthy criminals get their comeuppance...
Another great story by you!
Thanks, G.
I like the ones that finish with arrow shirts too.