Benjiman Blue — Guardian Between Worlds

Prologue — “One Blue Eye”

They say dogs only see black and white. But I know different. One brown, one blue — that’s how the world marked me. The brown sees what’s real. The blue sees what’s hidden.

They called me Benjiman at the pound. Cold floors, loud cages, too many stories trapped behind metal bars. My bark? Loudest in the room. That’s what caught his attention. Curtis — tall, quiet, eyes like he’d already seen too much. He leaned on the gate, studying me like he was searching for something only I might have.

“Is he blind in that one eye?” he asked the lady. She said no. But I saw it then — the way he looked at me, like he already knew I wasn’t just another dog.

Curtis has Caribbean roots — that deep ancestral bloodline where prayers sound like chants and the air hums when spirits walk by. He’s an ex-Marine, combat veteran, a Sergeant who’s seen darkness most men can’t imagine. He carries both light and shadow, the good and the bad that travel through family lines too heavy for most hearts to hold. And yet, even he doesn’t know it — Curtis has a gift, a subtle power lying dormant, a spiritual thread he hasn’t yet fully grasped. I can sense it, and I’ve been sent to protect it.

Since he brought me home, I’ve been watching. This city breathes rough — cracked concrete, sirens, laughter that fights to stay alive. But there’s something else moving here, something colder. Faces that don’t belong, whispers that slip through walls. Curtis doesn’t see it, not yet. But he feels it. I see the way his spirit bends when the air gets thick — the weight pressing against him that ain’t from this side of life.

My blue eye catches what his can’t. Figures crawling in corners where light don’t reach. Shadows shaped like memory. Things that feed off grief, anger, and silence. I don’t know if my sight’s a blessing or a curse, but I know one thing for sure — I was sent here for him. To stand between what hunts him and what he still hopes for.

Some nights, when the house goes still, I feel them near — spirits that test boundaries, whisper names they shouldn’t. But they don’t cross when I’m watching. Not while I still breathe.

Because every soul deserves a guardian. And mine just happens to have one brown eye for the world I walk… and one blue eye for the one that never sleeps.