The Other Side Of The Mirror

Original Short Story

The swishing sounds of autumn leafs grasps the cool wind as it blows swiftly between the darkened houses. The streets are cold and deserted with only limited light originating from lonely street lamps inhabiting the street corner of every fifth block or so. It's at moments like this where I feel utterly alone, but simultaneously stalked by the voices possessing my mind. They call to me, softly at first, then suddenly all at once. Aggravating my already tormented mind.

With the growing of their presence my fists clench and I begin to shake. The large mirror shard in my left hand cuts deep in my hand with every screech the voices make. Each new scream mocks one of their voices. My victims. Their lost souls forever present in my mind. Tormenting me. Creating my own hell, with the impossibility of ignorance to the evil actions I have commit.

The blood oozes from my hand and drips on to the chilled pavement of the sidewalk. The splashing of the droplets on the cement is the only physical sound in the world outside of my brain. My hand burns as the glass digs deeper into my hand, cutting out large chunks of my palm. I can hardly feel the pain. My mind is otherwise employed with other significant matters. My attention is continuously occupied with the ever-growing moans trapped in my head.

My shaking hand slowly lifts to my belt level, revealing to me the evil blood covered mirror. The edges a deeper black than any night could ever be, and sharper than any knife I had ever cooked with. The face as smooth as porcelain, and just as delicate looking. The mirror as a whole is as beautiful as a midnight romance, but when taken apart it is as poisonous and evil as the serpent's creator. No human, no creature, not even the devil himself could ever fully harness the evil this simple and beautiful looking mirror could.

Turning the mirror to myself the screams slowly fade into whispers as I begin to see it, the ghastly creature staring back at me in place of my own reflection. The beast that had always been watching me. The being that consumed my insides and possessed my body despite my efforts to keep him out. The presence that had been with me for as long as I could remember.

The demonic entity held a low grown made up of all the most horrendous sounds ever heard by man, and then some. His black eyes and devilish stare cut right through me, leaving me as a breathing corpse at his disposal. The sound of his beating heart rings loud in my ears reminding me that he is alive within me, a part of me, a part that can never be removed. His grotesque features shift rapidly as I watch him, adding and removing features of all of those I had done wrong. All the people he had made me hurt. Everyone we had killed.

This is all his fault! I could be happy and still have a wife who loves me and we could have started a family. But he ripped that away from me! All my hopes and dreams. The love of my life. He added them to his twisted game of who's next? He made me into a murderer! A cold-blooded killer! What did I ever do to deserve this? I was a loving husband, a good friend, and a father to be! But now it's all gone.

My grip tightens around the mirror as carves my hand. I allow the blood to spit from my hand and down the mirror, making the monster laugh at what he believes to be weakness. The rage inside me quickly builds up as I can feel his evil build up and begin the position. To him I am nothing more then his puppet and he is my puppeteer.

'This is how you do it! Isn't it?' I scream at it as loud as my vocal cords would allow. 'I was happy! I was finally okay! And you had to screw it up!' Tears streamed down my face as my body quivers.

All at once, the demons began viciously screaming, rattling my insides. 'Kill her! Kill her! Kill her!' The shrieks are so loud my head instantly fills with an agonizing pain. My grip loosens and my hands rush to my head as the mirror falls to the ground. My knees begin to buckle, my stomach-aches, my head pounds and my body shakes.