Jerry's sense of dread rose as he stared at the confetti of photographs and the bloody knife on the table in front of him. He rummaged frantically through the scraps, trying to reveal their secrets. He froze: his attention suddenly captured by a single piece. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as his own face stared back at him. The fragment tumbled from his grasp as he desperately tried to fit the torn pieces back together. He whimpered in panic as the scene revealed itself. He winced in pain as he stroked the bloody lines of the pentagram that was etched deep into his flesh; and echoed the chilling photograph.
Jerry's attention snapped to the door as he heard a sound. He scanned the room in desperation, looking for a means of escape. Nothing. The room was completely bare save for the table. His blood turned to ice as the key turned in the lock with a sickening click.
Jerry tried to swallow but his mouth was suddenly dry. His attention was riveted on the door. The scream of anticipation died on his lips as it swung open. There was nothing there. Jerry dropped his eyes back to the picture on the table, a half-smile of relief playing on his lips. He swept his hands across the table in an emphatic gesture, obliterating the shredded picture.
'I was already inside you, Jericho. You just needed to release me' whispered the devil as he finally took control of his new body.
YOU ARE READING
The Devil's Photograph
HorrorJerry wakes to a nightmarish enigma -a table littered with a torn photograph and more worryingly, a bloody knife. He knows that the secret to unravelling the mystery is hidden in the scraps before him. As he pieces the fragments together, he uncover...
