Shadowman, page 1
part #1 of The Valiant Universe Series
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PRAISE FOR SHOLA ADEDEJI
“Adedeji is a master chef, preparing a savory gumbo that would be perfect for any N’awlins feast. This rendition of Shadowman is both engaging and well crafted, skillfully utilizing modern storytelling techniques while pulling on the roots of traditional voodoo lore.”
—AJ AMPADU,
author of Kimi Kosmic
“Fans of the Nightside and Sandman Slim will thoroughly enjoy Shola Adedeji’s Shadowman, a college-student-turned-avenger tasked with protecting the unsuspecting denizens of New Orleans from the infighting of voodoo gods. Truly original and unpredictable.”
—MELANIE BACON,
author of Dragon Ripper
“Told with dark humor and a flare for cinematic imagery, readers will be surprised at every turn!”
—MICHAEL B. NEFF,
author of All the Dark We Will Not See
SHADOWMAN
THE VALIANT UNIVERSE
SHOLA ADEDEJI
Copyright © 2025 by Valiant Entertainment LLC
E-book published in 2025 by Blackstone Publishing
Cover artwork provided by Valiant Entertainment
Cover layout by Candice Edwards
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Trade e-book ISBN 979-8-212-70836-4
Library e-book ISBN 979-8-212-70835-7
Fiction / Horror
Blackstone Publishing
31 Mistletoe Rd.
Ashland, OR 97520
www.BlackstonePublishing.com
To my Family, near and far, blood or not.
Uno absurdo dato, mille sequuntur—Admit but a single absurdity, you invite a thousand.
—MATTHEW HENRY
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
About the Author
CHAPTER 1
Baron Samedi sat on his throne.
Although the eye sockets of his skull seemed empty, the skeleton god watched as his fellow Lwa conversed among themselves.
As with all the major deities, the realms housing the seat of their rule always reflected some aspect of their authority. Seeing as Samedi was the Lwa given dominion over death and the grave, it was no surprise his realm was not the most welcoming.
It was not like the dazzling underwater palace of Met Agwe’s domain, nor was it surrounded by the brilliant flora and fauna that made up Grand Bois’s.
Known as the Deadside, the baron’s domain bore an appearance worthy of the title. It was a perverted replica of the mortal world, lacking the characteristics and features indicative of life.
In essence, a dead world.
There were edifices and buildings, to be sure, but these decrepit structures were merely the twisted reimaginings of Liveside equivalents. Towering monuments, with foundations too narrow to support the bloated and misshapen configuration of their upper levels, created a landscape of teetering buildings seemingly poised to collapse at the slightest gust of wind.
Routinely commissioned by the baron, these eyesores were cobbled together by the realm’s monstrous inhabitants. There was an aura of resentment and despair emanating from the hollow structures, traits inherited from their undead architects.
However, Baron Samedi’s abode, the Manse Ghede, was different.
For one, it was structurally sound, and while not a grotesque husk of some Liveside counterpart, it was in need of a new paint job. Its symmetry, an architectural necessity taken for granted in the land of the living, was a mark of distinction in these parts. When considered in human terms, the mansion’s appearance could be likened to that of a haunted house, and seeing as it was currently housing godly guests of the spectral realm, such a description would prove exceedingly accurate.
These gods of voodoo, known as the Lwa, had come to celebrate the anniversary of Baron Samedi’s marriage to Erzulie Freda, the goddess of love. Despite her title, there was no such sentiment involved in their union. It was solely transactional.
For the better part of a century, the Lwa had been steadily falling out of human memory. Due to a mix of syncretism and the distracting nature of technology, this downward trend had touched the renown of nearly all of the Lwa pantheon.
Freda, however, had experienced an increase in eminence, at least on the mortal plane.
Several of her divine peers dismissed this as merely the result of the emotional and covetous nature of human beings, which unfairly guaranteed the deity a consistent supply of mortals seeking her favor.
Regardless of the reason, Freda’s rise in fame could not be denied.
So, in an act of divine acknowledgment of her worshippers, Freda promised through a prophesying priestess a period of no less than twelve years in which all unnatural deaths and bloody violence would cease in the land in which they resided, New Orleans.
For such an unprecedented phenomenon to occur would require the cooperation of the Ghede branch of Lwa. And so, determined to fulfill this lofty promise and prove herself true, Freda sought the aid of her most senior husband, the sky father known as the mighty Damballa.
Who, resenting Freda’s attempt to manipulate his authority over something so trivial, responded with a plan.
As the most ancient Lwa of the pantheon and fully aware that newlywed grooms were honor bound by tradition to grant their brides one request, the serpentine Damballa made a proposition: If Baron Samedi would take Freda’s hand in marriage, he would grant the god of death an audience with their creator, the all-powerful Gran Met.
Although this proposal came as a rather unwelcome surprise to some, neither Maman Brigitte, the baron’s first wife, nor Freda’s remaining husbands, Agwe and Ogun, dared voice any disapproval.
Baron Samedi seized the opportunity and it was not long before the two were wed.
For any Lwa besides Damballa, the opportunity to stand in Gran Met’s presence carried the same enthusiasm as the humans had toward their idols.
Immediately, Freda made known her wish that the baron, as ruler of the Ghede branch of Lwa, use his authority to lawfully suspend the march of violent death and bloodshed until the prophesied twelve years were completed.
Samedi’s indignation was short-lived. All things considered, the promise of a much-coveted audience with Gran Met was more than worth it.
And his fellow Lwa knew it.
So, on the same day for the past eight years, these gods of voodoo gathered themselves at the Manse Ghede to commemorate the baron and Freda’s marriage. As expected, the transactional union proved to have a profound effect on the land of the living.
With the aid of his subordinate Ghede, the baron quickly initiated a new system of roles and responsibilities to govern their behavior and progressively limit their actions in the mortal realm, ultimately stunting Ghede influence altogether.
Some of the more bloodthirsty Ghede Lwa, like Nibo and Criminel, frequently expressed their dissatisfaction with the new order. However, the more diplomatic baron repeatedly reminded them that his eventual meeting with Gran Met would yield fruits exclusive to their branch.
As for the few non-Ghede Lwa who shared Nibo and Criminel’s resentment, it had been anticipated that New Orleans’s rapid decrease in violence and death would come with unforeseen societal consequences.
But to their dismay, the unprecedented change and its effects seemed to go unnoticed by most in the land of the living.
It was nearly noon as a yawning Jack Boniface began gathering the scattered pages of his completed assignment off the dorm room table. He had stayed awake just shy of morning to ensure his professor would deem his work flawless.
It had been over two months since he left his hometown of New Orleans for New York University. In the time leading up to his departure his parents had made it clear that their allowing him to attend NYU was not a gift to be wasted. Additionally, Jack was well aware that his father, Josiah, considered Jack’s academic aspirations to be somewhat misguided.
While Josiah was not completely devoted to the superstitious culture of New Orleans, he was still at odds with Jack’s unwavering adherence to what the lad proudly labeled intellectualism. Josiah often expressed skepticism toward his son’s thought processes and conclusions but never went as far as outright belittling them. In fact, Josiah was the one who most encouraged Jack’s academic pursuits for distinction.
Though grateful for his father’s unexpected support, Jack felt certain there was an ulterior motive. Josiah’s behavior was likely just a ploy, ultimately designed to coerce his son into bearing witness to what he often referred to as “institutionalized intellige
Despite having no proof for this theory, Jack made sure his parents understood his resolve and confidence. Aside from mailing his graded assignments to them weekly, he kept correspondence with his parents to a minimum, choosing instead to completely immerse himself in the college experience.
While Jack was not immune to bouts of homesickness, his transition was still easier than he anticipated. He had already begun dating and generally found no difficulty fitting right into his new surroundings.
However, it was not for the reasons he had hoped.
New Orleans’s reputation as a dangerous place was widespread. Similar to the “juice” Jack had inherited from his father as a youth, the city’s infamy granted him an aura of respect and intimidation. This, despite Jack speaking without any slang and conducting himself as a truly diligent student, resulted in a confounding sense of admiration among his fellows.
Letting out the final bits of his yawn, Jack felt compelled to check his work a final time.
Due to an oversight on his last assignment that he initially considered trivial, he had fallen short of the perfect grade. Guided by intense dissatisfaction, Jack was forced to accept the hard truth that his blunder was not only significant, but resulted from his own hubris. The determination to redeem himself was the driving force behind Jack’s thorough attention to detail.
Though this same meticulousness had caused him to oversleep, Jack was not worrying as much as he normally would. Fortunately, slightly over an hour remained until class, which left him ample time to meet his current crush, Carmen, as promised.
As he searched his pocket for his phone, his roommate, Warren, called out to him.
“Jack, you’re up! Check your phone cuz that girl came around looking for you. I told her you weren’t here, by the way.”
“What?! Why would you tell her that, man?”
Although Jack had only been dating her a short while, he already understood why his father had advised against a relationship so soon. Despite the increased workload and expectations that came with attending a university more prominent than the local college he had transferred from, Carmen was quickly becoming Jack’s primary focus.
The young woman initially showed intense interest in him but recently had begun expressing some doubts. Jack took it upon himself to prove these reservations misguided rather than give them honest consideration.
Warren calmly unwrapped his pastry snack and proceeded to place it in the microwave. “Well, you were studying all night, and you haven’t got a good night’s sleep for a while, and, no offense, she’s the main reason why. You said you were gonna meet up with her today anyway, so I figured just let the man sleep.”
Feeling the uncomfortable tingle of panic, Jack immediately began searching for his phone. Now smirking into the microwave, Warren gave a slight shake of the head as he finished his reply. “She wasn’t mad, bro. Matter of fact, she seemed cool about it.”
Jack ignored him to continue the search but froze at a sudden and unfamiliar feeling of displacement.
What is this? he thought, standing still. Am . . . am I high right now?
Stunned, Jack thought back to the night before to determine if he had taken something, but being acutely aware of every passing second, he quickly dismissed the possibility.
No, he continued, unwilling to allow any further distraction. I’ll just deal with this later.
Composing himself with a forceful shake of the head, Jack returned his attention to his missing phone. Looking at his notebook from a new angle, he could see a gap between its closed pages. Quickly throwing it open, he sighed with relief upon finding the phone inside.
His hands somewhat slippery against its slick exterior, he clumsily tried to grab the phone without crumpling the notes it was set on. “How long ago was she here?”
“I don’t know, it was like . . . eight, maybe?” Warren replied.
Jack started toward the door. “Damn . . . well can’t do anything about it now.”
“Oh!” Warren grabbed a coat from the back of a dining room chair and flung it toward him. “And here’s your jacket. Thanks for letting me borrow it.”
“Yeah.”
Catching the coat, Jack stopped in his tracks as he realized his phone felt uncharacteristically hot. He looked at the screen and immediately groaned at the battery icon. Its barely noticeable sliver of red blinked slowly as if to mock him.
“The phone has been on the whole time?!”
Warren emitted a lazy giggle in response. “Rookie mistake, bro,” he replied. “You gotta put it on battery saver so it cuts off in case you knock out.”
Jack nervously began swiping through the stream of notifications that had collected on the screen during his slumber, the majority of which were from Carmen. Too numerous to be previewed, he was forced to open the messaging app.
“I know that, man,” he finally replied. “I turned the saver off because the screen kept dimming and cutting off while I was using it to study.”
“I don’t know what to say, bro.”
Jack groaned again as Carmen’s messages appeared on the screen, their disappointment increasing progressively as one unanswered text appeared after another, before ultimately ending with one of acceptance. “You’re too busy and that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with taking a break.”
Jack began frantically typing his response, only to be thwarted as the screen froze before suddenly going blank. “Dammit!”
“Battery died?” Warren asked, his eyes still fastened to the spinning pastry.
Jack began searching for the charger. “Any other day, there are chargers all over the place. Now that I’m actually in need, I can’t even find one?”
“I got you, bro, hold on . . .”
Finally removing his gaze from the pastry, Warren casually strolled to his bed. He gingerly peeled back the blanket and placed the pillows on the carpet. His chronic marijuana use rendered him incapable of displaying any sense of urgency. “I have no idea where it is,” he stated. “Here, use my phone instead.”
Jack gritted his teeth as he considered what to do. The messages were now marked as read on Carmen’s phone, and he knew she would see it as suspicious if he suddenly switched to Warren’s phone to reply. Why is everything so difficult?
Deciding to cut his losses, Jack hastened to the door. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, “I’ll just find her.”
Carmen’s residence hall was on the other side of Washington Square Park. Situated just outside his own building, the popular park served as a constant source of wonder for his dorm mates, especially for those from out of state.
Despite being from New Orleans, Jack did not share their admiration. Counting it among his long list of trivialities, he considered the scenic park an unnecessary distraction from his goal of academic distinction.
Warren often teased him about this. The carefree New Yorker found it amusing that Jack, who was otherwise very perceptive, denied himself the simplest of enjoyments for the sake of his academics yet had no qualms about getting a girlfriend.
Jack began jogging toward Carmen’s dorm when the strange displacement from earlier returned, forcing him to consider any explanations as he made his way through the scarcely populated park.
While it was true he had just woken up, the sensation was different from mere grogginess. It seemed situated more in Jack’s mind than his body. The way he interpreted visual stimuli felt altered somehow. As Jack took passing glances at his surroundings, colors seemed to emanate from objects like rays from the sun. And while this subtle change was enough for him to notice, it was insufficient to cause worry.
