Reflections

Chapter One: Awakening

Somewhere in suburban Ohio, there's a hotel, where a man in tuxedo is lying with a revolver in his hand and a spurt of blood on the sheets. That man is me. Despite what the police reports, and the cleaning lady who found me would say, I am alive. I slowly came to and found myself lying there with a couple beers around me. I lifted my head up, it seemed to still be working. So I slowly pushed my way to a seated position.
Something feels wrong. I got here somehow, I just don't remember. I stood up carefully, and worked my way around the bed. I started to rifle through my bag, maybe there is a clue as to how I got here. All I found was some ammunition, clothes, and a wallet. Inside was a debit card with the name Liam K. Schneider. I'm gonna assume that's me, for the time being.
I swung the backpack onto my back, and headed to the bathroom to change into some more comfortable clothes. I had my revolver in my right pocket, as well as some of the ammo. I slowly wobbled to the sink. Being dead really takes the life out of you. I'm sorry, even for you being a person I created, I shouldn't subject you to such terrible jokes. Anyway, I began to wash my face. And I looked in the mirror. But, it wasn't normal. It was me, but it wasn't. It couldn't be described if I tried. It lashed out at me. It was so abhorrent,, so demented. I fell back and hit my head on the wall. It seemed to feel pain when I did. It was writhing and waiting against the mirror. It's form seemed to be shifting, I couldn't tell why though. I pulled out my gun. I aimed very carefully and fired.
It was a direct shot to the head. I screamed and fell backwards. My vision went purple and red. My head was throbbing. I began to see double. But I was able to stand back up and keep firing. Every shot I hit it with, hit me too. I could feel its pain, just as it could feel mine. I continued firing. It took about 5 shots to kill it. It staggered towards the wall and fell back. I was finally able to catch my breath and gain my sanity.

I'm all dressed up with nowhere to go, walking with a dead man over my shoulder

I emerged from the bathroom in a black Rush 2112 T-shirt, a grey hoodie and jeans. This room was big. It had 2 floors, each one with its own bed and bathroom. I peered into the mirror, staring at the corpse of my enemy. Why does this feel good? What's wrong with me? I'm not a psychopath, am I? I don't remember that. Although I don't remember much of anything. I walked downstairs and examined the kitchen table. I immediately checked for silverware, more specifically a knife. These... these creatures, these reflections, whatever they are I'm going to need protection. Inside the drawer, there was an organizer, with some forks, spoons and butter knives, and on the bottom, outside of the organizer, was a lone knife. It had a vintage wooden handle and ornate brass designs on it. I turned and walked out of the kitchen. There was another bedroom, I'm assuming. But the doors were closed. I slowly peered inside, and saw another spurt of blood, but no body. There was someone else here, but who? I have no memory of anyone. I barely remember myself.
So there was someone else here. And they're going through the same thing I am, right? If I find them, we can help each other. That has to be my number one priority. I stepped outside.
"What the fuck! Holy shit! Ow!" I stepped out onto a metal porch, and it was about 8 degrees Fahrenheit. "Shoes! Need shoes." I quickly returned to the interior of the building. I searched the hotel room one more time and found near the side of my bed, a pair of shoes. I slipped them on and found something sitting on my nightstand that I hadn't noticed before. It was a black winter hat, with a post-it on it. It read:
2959 Miamisburg Centerville Rd, if you're awake, meet me there. ASAP!
The word "ASAP!" was written larger than the rest of the note. What is this place? Some sort of secret base? Probably not, but I still have hope.
I pushed the hat onto my head until it was snug. It was finally time. How long had I been... dead? Had the world changed? I guess I couldn't tell, even if it did. I opened the door, and stepped out. I was on the second floor. I hadn't noticed that before. I sluggishly walked down the wooden staircase, and out to the parking lot. Before I could take it all in, three large black vans came speeding into the lot. They turned, making a barricade. 3 SWAT officers stepped out, with a man in a black suit behind them. The cops cleared to both sides and the suit stepped forward.
"Good morning, sir. Have you experienced or witnessed anything unusual lately?" He said in a flat monotone.
"Um, no. May I ask what this is about?"
"We got reports of a woman leaving that hotel room" He pointed to my room. "She had shot herself 2 weeks earlier."
"Well, I haven't seen anything. Can I be on my way now? I'm meeting a friend for coffee."
"Yes, have a nice day sir." He said, already following the SWAT again. I had to walk through a flowerbed to get around the vans, and I got off of the hotel property, when my phone began to ring. I didn't even know I had a phone. Had it been in my pocket this whole time? I pulled out a dark metallic blue phone with the word 'Motorola' on it and a weirdly shaped 'M.' I pressed a green answer button and held it to my ear.
"Hello?"
"Finally!"
"What?"
"It's been 3 days! I've been waiting at this damn restaurant for 3, damn, days!"
"Wait, what? Restaurant? Where are you? Who are you?"
"Just get here and I'll explain everything. Oh and by the way, I hope you like Waffle House."
"What the fuck is a waffle house? Who are y-" She hung up. "God dammit!" I screamed in frustration. I turned around and walked to the hotel office. I asked the person for directions, instead they called a cab and charged me for it. I got in the yellow cab, and drove for about 3 minutes. The driver stopped and told me. "4 dollars please." I gave him my card, and he gave himself a 30 dollar tip. I got out of the cab and walked inside. It was a warmly lit one room diner, with a counter, and booths lining the walls. I stepped inside and saw many people sitting. Some drinking coffee, some eating late night pancakes. I saw what seemed to be a small girl, wearing a hoodie. I casually walked toward her, and sit myself on the seat across from her. She looked up from her drink. She seemed to scan me, as if making sure it was actually the person she was looking for. She lifted her head up more and smiled. "Took you long enough." She said, with a slight chuckle.
"Sorry, but I don't know what happened. I woke up, and those things, the reflections, they really disoriented me."
"What things? Liam are you high? We just came back from the dead and you're worried about reflections? Dude our research worked! We successfully resurrected a human being!"
"What are you talking about? Research? Who even are you?"
"No... No, Liam you have to remember me! We've been best friends since we were kids! Its me, Zelda, don't you remember?"
"I'm sorry, I don't remember much of anything. What were you saying about research?"
"We went to college together and started research with Dr. Coulder. We made a breakthrough on how to possibly revive a human being from death, but we couldn't get any test subjects, so that's why we did it. But clearly the serum is having side effects on you."
"Clearly! I woke up and saw these demons in the mirror. They were writhing and flailing, almost trying to escape. I pulled out my gun and shot them. And I felt their pain, like they were a mirror image of me! I swear I'm not crazy."
"Everything you're saying sounds completely insane, but for some reason I believe you."
"Thanks Z."
"Heh."
"What?"
"You used to call me Z all the time, maybe you do remember a little bit."
"Maybe subconsciously..."
I looked to my left, out of the window. And I saw a red dot, piercing into my sight. And suddenly it happened.
The glass shattered and the lady behind the counter dropped to the floor, blood spilling out from the side of her head.
"Liam come on." Zelda said, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the door. We ran back outside, and I glanced up to where I saw the sniper. There was nothing. We ran. Running from that Waffle House of horrors, running from the man who shot her, and the man who was probably aiming at me.