Contest Entries

The Choice | Round One | The Devil Told Me To

The Devil Told Me To

Eliza doesn't understand what's happening to her.

It started a couple weeks ago after Hannah, one of her friends, suggested her group play with a Ouija board. Eliza knew better, but her friends persisted and she couldn't be the only one who chickened out. Just because Eliza's mother was superstitious didn't mean she had to be. Besides, it was only a tattered wooden board that looked one crack away from crumbling. How much harm could it really do?

Then the voices began echoing in the depths of her mind.

One moment she's smiling and laughing with her friends when in the next she's contemplating how long it'd take the air to leave their lungs were she to hang them from the ceiling fan. She sees the beauty in their faces then sees the guilt and disgust a second later. She loves them. She hates them. She knows they're good people. She knows they're filthy liars.

They don't deserve their lives.

She shakes her head with tears burning her eyes, clawing at her hair frantically. She clutches the edge of her vanity, takes a few deep breaths. It's okay, she tells herself. It's okay, it's okay, it's okay.

She looks back into her mirror.

It is not okay.

Her reflection stares back at her, only with a conniving smirk and soulless eyes. She stumbles backwards with a start. The other Eliza blinks like she's intrigued, tilting her head ever so slightly to the side. She seems to be glitching.

"W-what are you?" she asks in a whisper, intended for herself with no hope for an answer.

However, she gets one: "I'm you."

Eliza swallows the lump in her throat. "N-no. You aren't."

"Then who else can I be?"

A demon, she instantly thinks, though it sounds foolish to say aloud. It has to be because of her stupid encounter with that damned game. She can think of no other way to explain this unless she's bat-shit crazy.

Which she very well may be, or at least on the brink of it.

Her reflection laughs. It is her own laugh but not from her own lips. Her room begins to shake. She falls back onto her bed and grasps the sheets, terror filling her body, weighing down every bone inside her. Her head begins to pound. The laughter circles around and around inside it. She squeezes her eyes shut. She stifles a scream.

Then the rocking of her room abruptly stops as her bedroom door bursts open.

Her best friend, Clara, stands in the doorway. "Hey. Ready to go for lunch?"

Eliza blinks, breathing heavily. "Y-yeah, give me a m-minute."

Clare frowns. "What's wrong?"

Like a switch flips inside her, Eliza narrows her eyes and says in a low tone, "I said give me a minute." The voice is not her own but it's from her own lips.

Clara steps into the room, concerned. "Lizzy, what--"

With a flick of Eliza's wrist, Clara crashes into Eliza's vanity, the mirror falling to the floor and shattering. Clara scrambles to sit up, fear welling inside her bright blue eyes as she gawks at the girl that's no longer her friend.

She's weak, a voice in Eliza's mind says with a devious cackle. She's pathetic.

She doesn't deserve this life.

Eliza fights with all the strength she can muster to push the voice aside. She manages if only for a minute or two, using her own voice to tell Clara, "Run!"

Clara wastes no time in pushing to her feet, stumbling for the door.

The demon takes hold of Eliza before Clara can get away. She laughs mockingly. "Stupid girl," she hisses, dragging Clara back in without touching her. The door slams shut on its own. "Stupid, stupid girl."

"Please," Clara whispers, the word quivering off her lips as she falls to her knees. She clasps her hands as if in prayer. "Eliza, j-just tell me what's wrong. I know you haven't been yourself. Talk to me."

In and out Eliza fades as the demon continues to conquer her. "I won't waste my breath."

A glass shard from the broken mirror levitates, gliding over to settle against Clara's neck, glinting dangerously with the sun spilling in from the window. The glass slides hard enough to draw blood, but it is only a scratch.

For now.

"Lizzy," Clara pleas in a desperate voice. "Please."

Eliza wonders what her parents will do when they get home and see Clara's body on her bedroom floor. She wonders what her friends will think--will they automatically accuse Eliza or decide someone else murdered her? Eliza won't be able to bear life without her best friend.

The demon forces Eliza to grin, a devilish one that sends visible shudders throughout Clara's body. "Eliza is no more."

Then the glass slices violently, and Clara's blood seeps into Eliza's plush carpet.

Eliza wants to scream, but she isn't in control. She wants to cry and end her own life, but the demon won't let her resurface long enough.

She crouches down in front of the shattered mirror.

Her distorted reflection grins back at her.