Smiling Girl

I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m so scared and I can’t trust anyone.

I went camping about three weekends ago in the Huntsville national forest in Texas. Me and three friends that came home for the weekend, they are all in college and usually we all get together at least once a year, old friends from high school. For the camping trip we planned to go backpacking deep in the forest, live off of fish that we catch and animals that we can trap. We have been doing this for awhile in Texas and in numerous places, Arizona, Colorado (if anyone is familiar with the Spanish peaks there), New Mexico, so we‘re pretty much used to anything you‘d encounter out there.

It was my turn to pick where we went camping, so I chose Huntsville (more accurately it’s Huntsville/New Waverly). So we drive up there park our car in a camping park spot and start walking off into the forest. We had some laughs along the way, everyone catching up with eachother’s lives. We walked until it started to get dark and set up camp where we stopped. Everyone gathered wood to make a fire and we set our tent up. And we do what we always do: try and scare each other with weird stories.

Around this time we started to smell something very faint. It was noticeable, but not overbearing. We couldn’t put our finger on what it was, so we just carried on. Mike had to go piss and he walked off in the forest. A second later he come running back, piss all down his jeans like he’d missed really bad. Immediately we all crack up and throw some jokes at him. Then we noticed that he was white as snow and trying to catch his breath. He starts screaming for us to follow him, and runs off.

We all get serious and go follow him, not knowing what the problem was. We start to hear a faint scream and crying in the distance, in the direction we were running. It was pitch black away from the camp and Mike had the only flash light (we left ours at the camp, he had his from his trip taking a piss), so at this stage we didn’t have much choice but to follow the light, which was frantically pointing here and there in front of him.

The scream gets closer and Mike starts to slow down. We then notice a ratty old cabin that looked like it was abandoned, except for a faint light that we could see from one of the old mildew covered windows. The crying was intense: whoever it was couldn’t breathe enough to let out a full yell. We all followed Mike up to the front door and we could all hear the crying from inside. As soon as he knocked on the door it stopped.
We all waited and heard really heavy footsteps walking fast to the door. There was a giant slam against the door and the sound of a bolt unlocking. Then nothing. We waited for a bit, knocked a few more times, but still nothing happened. We walked around the house (there was no fucking way any of us were leaving each other’s side) and noticed a window, which was a good way up. Alex took a deep breath and said asked us to give him a boost so he could see inside. Me and Mike lifted him up to the window. We watched him brush away dirt and webs from the window and place his face close to the window to try and see something.

There was a quick beat. Then suddenly he breathed in fast and let out a loud scream. Then he fell back from the window, screaming bloody murder the whole way. We all tried to calm him down but he was hysterical. We went to him but he started to shake, punch, kick, you name it, and then took off towards the camp.
None of us wanted to be separated so we all ran close behind him. We caught up to him and grabbed him and set him down. The fire was dying out so I grabbed some nearby wood that we collected added it to the fire. My hands were shaking and I had to do something. I went back to Alex and we all tried to calm him down. He wouldn’t he kept screaming and was breathing so hard that he eventually fainted.

All of us are terrified now, and we all kept the fire high until sunrise. Periodically Alex kept waking up, screaming just like before. By sunrise he was up and looked catatonic, just mumbling to himself and whimpering.

Me and Mike decide to go look at the cabin now it was daylight. We searched where we thought it was, except there was nothing there. Nothing at all. The indistinct smell from last night had now grown into a very strong smell of something dead, something stale. We headed back to the camping site. When we got there we found Alex had chewed into the sides of his face and swallowed so much blood that he was throwing up. John was at his back, and he looked like he was about to die from exhaustion. I guess we all looked that way, I just didn’t notice until I saw his face. Alex said quietly that we need to leave. Now.

We all started to pack up the tent. It started to rain really heavily (it was about noon) and the sky started to grow really dark. Alex started to go into a panic. He went and grabbed a big stick and yelled at us to leave it and leave, now, or he‘d knock us out and drag us out of there himself. Mike started to yell at him, and they started to fight. We broke it up and finished packing, and then started to make our way back. After a little while we arrived at a creek we had crossed the previous day, only it was flooded over, and the water was moving too fast for us to cross it. Alex started to scream again, yelling at Mike for taking his time packing up the tent when we could have gotten out of here. This went on for a while until we finally convinced Alex to calm down and tell us what happened.

He said as soon as he put his face to the glass, a face on the other side did the same thing, and started to smile really big. It had dark eyes and a dark mouth which was much bigger then Alex’s, as the smile got as large as it could. A giant shadow behind it swung something down and sliced it‘s face off. The face was stuck to the window, and he said it started to laugh quietly as it slid down. Mike, still pissed off (and though he wouldn‘t admit it, beginning to get freaked out), started to argue with him again. We eventually started to follow the creek for a way to cross.

We then started to see toys floating in the creek. Really old toys, old Barbie dolls and baby dolls. This wasn’t like any old trash floating in the creek, though… this was a lot of barbies, a lot of baby dolls. One washed towards the side and Mike picked it up. It had some kind of voice chip that was dying and started to say some gurgling words we couldn’t understand, followed by it’s sad excuse for laughter. Then it sounded like it was whispering. We thought the batteries must be dying, he threw it down.

We kept going, and the sun was starting to set. Alex was freaking out more now, and was whimpering and breathing heavily. We all started to see shadows move behind trees, something we all called BS on until we all were seeing it. It was barely light out and we stop as we see the cabin right in front of us. None of us knows what to think.

Mike says “This is bull, I’m going in there.” Alex tries to stop him. We all do, all of us just wanted to go home. Mike says to all of us to fuck off, do our own thing, he doesn’t care anymore, this is all bull.
We start to hear hundreds of the same sort of baby doll as before, laughing, whispering and trying to sing. We start to move forward past the cabin, all of us, and kept pushing forward. We smelled something dead in the air, something stale. The same something as before. We started to hear something crying, and something screaming. We kept on going. We eventually crossed the creek and left the woods. We get back to our vehicle and got in. Its pitch black, and we drive. We are about to get on the 45 to Houston but the road is under construction and can’t be accessed. It points to a detour. As we head towards the detour it seems to be small, bumpy dirt road going into the woods.

We then see a young girl come up to us. She looks like she was in trouble, young and pretty. She approaches the passenger side door and she looks like she‘s really drugged up, or beaten up. Alex doesn’t roll down the windows, nor does he open the door. She reaches for the handle and he immediately locks it. She puts her face on the window and starts to smile really big. We floor it, Alex starts to cry and scream and we are all breathing heavy. We finally cut on a street that takes us to the 45 and we take it the whole way. When we get back to my apartment everyone doesn’t know what to say and we all break apart and go our separate ways.

Mike messages me later and says he is going to go back. I try to convince him not to and all he does is say it was our own minds that were screwing with us. I think he just went to prove to himself he wasn’t scared. I can smell that stench everywhere now. I don’t go out anymore, I just stay in and don’t answer the door. Last week everyone I met was acting really strange, people that I knew for a long time and total strangers. My own dad, when I went to his place to eat supper with him he just watched me, strangely, when I was sitting down. He didn’t say a word the whole time. I kept asking him “What’s wrong?” He just slowly shook his head.

When I was leaving to go home I turned to wave. He had black eyes and an open mouth like he was in pain. When I started to walk back he shut the door and bolted it. I stayed there knocking and knocking. Nothing. I called him, his phone was disconnected. I even called the police. Halfway through the questions they were asking me the connection started to fade into static. I could hear a faint mumbling, singing and laughing.
Mike has completely vanished. There is not even a record of him being alive. When I call Alex’s house they talk to me like I’m some salesman. They say they don’t know any Alex and to please stop calling. The person who tells me that is Alex‘s mother. I can’t get ahold of John. Someone knocked on my door and when I went to look I saw a face completely covering the peephole and a giant smile started to form.
I called the cops again and instead of it turning into static they got really strange.

“Sir, are you affected by any drugs at the moment?”

“No.”

“Are you coming home anytime soon?”

“Excuse me?”

“Come home.” and the phone call ended. My mail slot swings every now and then. Someone is sliding pieces of baby dolls through it. I try to call people now and all I can hear is static and bad baby doll noises and this crying and screaming. My TV is busted but when I go to piss I can hear it on. I might be going insane.

Whoever lives above me started to scream in pain and crying deeply recently. I hear giant footsteps from their apartment, I hear bangs and something falling to the ground. From the neighbors to the right of my apartment I hear what sounds like a baby that never gets tended too and then it sounds like a baby doll whose batteries are dying. My phone has been ringing now and it’s Alex telling me things in a language that I have never heard before, nor could even manage to repeat. I kept getting emails of pictures of black and small colorations, now I can’t even access my email. Someone knocks on the door, then they slam against it. I hear the bolts unlocking one by one and I run to make sure to lock all of them back and sit down crying.

What do I do? My electricity keeps dimming. My water, sinks, bath, shower, all smell like something dead. I keep seeing a shadow of someone behind me raising something up in the air, and I just take off to the other side of the apartment with my head against the wall. I have boarded my windows shut, someone was throwing rocks through them. I never could see who. I have boarded my bedroom in, I hear crying and screaming in there now. And right now while I’m typing this I can see the reflection off the computer screen of some shadow behind me.

–
Retrieved from: http://sanctuary.prelucid.com/library/index.php?title=The_Smiling_Girl

Don’t Trust It

My father is a great man.

Fourteen years ago he was sent on a solo mission to be the first man ever to travel through a wormhole, located a massive distance from Earth. His return was unguaranteed, but he was prepared to make the sacrifice. I was twelve when he left our planet to explore the Great Unknown, not knowing when or if he would return. It took seven long years for his craft to reach the edge of the wormhole, and we prepared ourselves to never hear from him again.

Nine minutes after his spacecraft breached the wormhole a single message was received before transmission was cut: “Don’t trust it”. The cryptic message was dismissed as interference and I made peace with the fact that I was never to see him again.

That is, until five weeks later when the signal came back online. His ship had returned from beyond the wormhole and was traveling back towards Earth intact. Seven anxious years more, and his ship touched down in the ocean. I was already a grown man with a wife and a family, and it had been more than fourteen years since I saw him.

The cryo-sleep had slowed his aging, and he looked barely a day older than when he left. However, something seemed not right about him; he was not the man I remembered. His eyes had lost their spark, his mouth had lost its signature grin, his neck had lost its mole.

And I can’t stop thinking about the transmission, received seven painful years ago. “Don’t trust it”

My father was a great man,

But that thing is not my father.

–
Credits to: thinstick

Anonymous

I’m terrified of my grandparents’ house. Literally I refuse to go there. I’m 22 now and live in another state but I still get scared at the thought of my old bedroom.

When I was around 16 I lived with my grandparents. One afternoon we were watching TV (they live in a double wide trailer), the front door for no reason just opened as if someone was walking in. My papa (grandfather) jokingly said “come on in”.

Worst decision of his life. A couple days later my mimi (grandmother) started noticing things going missing. She would place her coffee cup in the morning on the island and then, in her words. the coffee cup would ‘disappear later to be found still hot’. My papa doesn’t believe in ghosts so we never really said anything about the odd misplacements.

Then I started to notice things. My bedroom wall which connects to the wall where the bathroom was would groan at night as if someone was pressing against it. I would have moments where I literally felt someone staring at me, which was obviously unsettling.

But it was never anything until I saw “it”. I was walking down the hallway to my room (the bathroom was the last door on your left and my room was straight ahead) and when I passed the bathroom, in the bathtub was what looked like to be a boy just sitting there. When I turned my head, nothing would be there, but once I’d noticed the boy, things got much more interesting.

I would wake up to breathing on my face and the feeling of getting pressed into the bed. Whispered voices telling me to “ LEAVE AND GET OUT”. The door would open and shut by itself. The handle at times would just rattle. The TV changing channels when no one was touching the controller.

I started sleeping at my mom’s. It wasn’t until my papa- the one guy who would talk himself blue with the fact that ghosts are not real- sat me down and told me what he was experiencing.

Late at night, he would be reading and he would hear footsteps from the very end of my hall all the way to his bedroom door (we have tiles throughout the house minus the rooms). He would call out to me, telling me to go back to bed and the footsteps would get loud and they would run back to my side of the house. Once my papa said he went to go check to see why I was up but I wasn’t home that night, and my papa said that my room felt so evil and that he was not welcome at all. My mimi has dolls, porcelain dolls by the dozen, and papa would tell me how the dolls would look like they were turning towards him and he would hear laughter and then footsteps leading back to my bedroom.

It may not seem like its terrifying to you but to a 16 year old who has never experienced anything of this magnitude was horrible. I moved in with my mother shortly after my papa told me that. When I speak to him on the phone sometimes he tells me that he is still hearing the footsteps at night and recently this “thing” has been knocking pictures and items off the walls and tables.

–
Credits to: http://kyliemoffett.tumblr.com/

Not Afraid Of The Dark

I always have a torch in my pocket these days. I found a small LED one at an electronics store for a couple of bucks, and I keep it on me at all times. It’s actually really bright, despite the size. I bought five, the other four are placed in strategic locations around my house, so I can get to any of them quickly if need be. I won’t be caught in the dark again, you see. It’s bad enough that I see her every time I close my eyes, I don’t think I could handle seeing her again with my eyes open. But, I digress. Perhaps this would be better told from the start.

I used to work in an office building in town, for the public counter service of a Government Department that shall remain unnamed. The work was fine, it basically involved taking and checking applications, talking to the public about different services that our department provided, that sort of thing. Nothing out of the ordinary with the work, or my colleagues, who I got on very well with. The building, however…

To look at it from the outside, you wouldn’t think that it was any different from any of the surrounding office buildings. 12 stories tall, very square, flat sides etc. Nothing ostentatious, it was just a simple office building, like hundreds of others in my city. The building was slightly older than the surrounding ones, built in the 1980s (I think). There was the occasional draft, and the lights would flicker now and again, but no major problems.

There were four elevators, one of which always seemed to be out of order. They’d fix one, and then another would inexplicably break. There was something with the electrics that would cause the doors to slam shut without warning sometimes, and they would occasionally drop slightly when you got in them. Nothing serious enough for the building owners to actually do anything about, but enough to be more than an annoyance.
The lifts used to give me the jibblies, even before all of this.

I used to take the stairs a lot. There were two stairwells, one on either side of the building. Both of them were fairly narrow, so if you were coming up and you met someone coming down, then you’d either need to wait in the stairwell bit by the doors into the different levels, or turn sideways and let them squeeze past. They tended to get a bit clogged if there was an evacuation for a fire alarm or something, but I was only on the 3rd floor, so it didn’t take too long for me to get from there to the ground, or vice versa.

The stairwells were windowless, plain cement with pale yellow lights illuminating them, but fairly dimly. I think the building’s owners used crappy energy-saving bulbs to try and save some money.

There was a bathroom in each of the different stairwells, on every level. Men’s room in one stairwell, ladies’ in the other. The building managers installed combination locks on all of those doors after there was a peeping tom incident in the ladies’ one day, so only people who worked in the building could get in. There were different businesses and departments on each of the floors, and the locks all had different combinations, so you could only use the bathroom on your floor, you couldn’t go up or down a level to use another.

Because we were part of a Government Department, there was an emphasis on security. We all had swipe card access to get from the reception areas into the back office bit of my floor, and you also needed to remember your card if you were going to the bathroom. The doors to the stairwells had the same magnetic safety locks as the doors to the back area, and although you could get out by pushing a button to release the lock, you had to swipe your card to get into the floor from the stairwell. If you were in the bathroom there was a similar button to press to get back into the stairwell.

It’s hard to pinpoint when the trouble started. It’s not like somebody clicked their fingers and everything turned on like a light switch. I’m assuming you’ve heard the story about how a frog put in boiling water will jump straight out, but if you put the frog in cold water and bring it slowly to the boil it’ll stay in, happily boiling to death without realising. Had the situation gone from normal to messed up in a hurry, then I probably would have got the hell out of there, and quickly; but like they say, hindsight has 20/20 vision.

There was an imbalance of girls to guys who worked at my office, so I quite often had the men’s room to myself. Nothing like being able to go in peace, you know? The earliest occasion of anything weird happening I can remember, I was going off to the bathroom, which involved walking through the reception area. I pressed the button to let me into the stairwell, and was in the stairwell, keying in the code to let me into the mens’, and the stairwell door shut behind me. There was nothing out of the ordinary in this, the door was on one of those hinges which makes it close automatically.

What was weird was that the second that door shut, I got a shiver up my spine. Everything was suddenly quiet, almost oppressively silent. The noise of the radio and the people in the waiting room had been completely cut off when the door shut, when normally you could hear things even when in the bathroom.

I didn’t think too much of it at the time, but I didn’t take my time as I normally might have. I got in, did what I needed to and got out of there, quickly. The feeling of unease faded as I came back into the brighter lights of the waiting room. From there, everything was normal for days, possibly weeks. I’m a little fuzzy on the actual time-frame, as a lot of the stuff that happened took place over a long-ish period of time. A few smallish things happened here and there; the odd cold spot, the odd shiver, (like when you feel you’re being watched), but I just put it down to stress, and kept going with my job and my life.

Like I said earlier, I got on very well with my colleagues and my boss. Most of us were of a similar age (mid-20s) and every now and again we’d go out for a few post-work drinks on a Friday, let loose a little and de-stress from the week. One Friday we’d closed up the public counter, and all the customers were gone, and we were packing up and getting ready to head out.

I excused myself to use the mens’ room before we went out, but when I opened the stairwell door I noticed that it seemed dimmer than normal in the stairwell – the light at the top of the flight of stairs to the floor above had blown.

As I turned to the right to key in the code to the bathroom door, I saw something out of the corner of my eye, in the gloom at the top of the stairs. Something – and I can’t be any more descriptive than that – something flashed across my vision, A dark shape going from right to left from the door by the bathroom at the top of the stairs, around the corner to the next flight, out of my line of sight.

It was fast, impossibly fast, like watching a movie and fast-forwarding to 4 times the normal speed. I couldn’t see any details, it was just a black shape, but it seemed darker than the lack of light surrounding it somehow. The movement was the worst though. Despite the speed, it didn’t seem to blur or sway at all, it was a scuttle more than anything.

I swung around, away from the bathroom door, and stood frozen at the bottom of the flight of stairs, staring transfixed up into the gloom at the top. I don’t know how long I stood there for, but I was frozen in place, too scared to move. The next thing I can remember, a hand clapped down on my shoulder.

“(My name)! What are you doing man!?” It was my boss, come to find out what was taking so long.

“There, there was… there was something” I stammered, trying to get the words out. My boss looked quizzically at me, one eyebrow raised.

“What was it?” I turned to look up the stairs again. Everything seemed less dim than it had been a moment ago.

“Nothing,” I replied, shaking my head. “Must have been a trick of the light. Been meaning to get my eyes tested.”

“Then let’s get the hell out of here, and off for some drinks!” my boss exclaimed.

Later, at the bar, surrounded by my colleagues laughing and joking about the week’s events, everything seemed fine with the world. It was warm and bright in the bar, and my sense of dread had completely gone. Had I known what was to come, however, then I probably would have been feeling very different indeed…

Things seemed fairly normal for a while after that. I came back to work after the weekend, got on with my job, tried to put what I’d seen (or thought I’d seen, anyway) out of my mind. My job had some perks, one of which is that the Department would pay for an eye test and new glasses if you needed them, so I got that done. The optometrist said that my eyes hadn’t deteriorated at all in the five years since my previous eye test, but it was probably time for a new pair of glasses anyway.

About a month after the last incident, I was heading to the gym after work, so I headed to the bathroom to get changed so I could run there. We’d turned out most of the lights, but it wasn’t dark yet outside so the place was still well-enough lit to see in, although not nearly as bright as with the lights on.

Because the public reception area was shut for the day due to the time, I used the public bathroom attached to the waiting area to put on my gym clothes. I put my earbuds in, and cranked up the volume on my MP3 player, getting myself in the mood for the run, when I heard screaming.

It’s hard to describe exactly how it sounded – It was definitely female, but it sounded raw, like it came from a throat full of razorblades, if that makes any sense. It sounded impossibly loud and close, but at the same time like it was coming from miles away. I yanked out my earbuds, unlocked the door and sprinted out into the waiting room, fully expecting to see someone being murdered.

It was deserted. Completely empty, not a soul in sight. I looked around slowly, listening hard, trying to see or hear what had been screaming. I turned back towards the public bathroom from which I’d come, and I could see the mirror and myself in it – and I could see something dark looming over my shoulder.

I spun on the spot, bracing myself as I did so – but there was nothing there. I looked back to the mirror, but whatever had been there a second ago was gone. I scrambled for my swipe access cards, used them to open the door to the back part of the office, and ran in there, where my boss was sitting at his desk, packing up for the day.

“Did you hear that!?” I half-shouted. He looked confused.

“Hear what?”

“I heard someone screaming.” He got up quickly, and we walked into the waiting room, both listening hard.
After minute, he turned to me. “I didn’t hear anything, (My Name),” he said.

“Are you OK? You’ve seemed a little… off lately.” To his credit, my boss looked genuinely concerned. He was easily the best manager we’d ever had, and really looked after all of his staff. “If you need some time off, just let me know, you have plenty of leave saved up…” He left the offer hanging.

“I… I don’t know.” I replied “I’ll let you know.” I turned, and headed for the lifts. The sense of unease and dread I had felt was back, and much harder to shake this time. What the hell was I seeing, or hearing? And what the hell could I do about it?

Like I said earlier, had this stuff happened all at the same time, I probably would have bailed on my job and tried to find somewhere else. For God knows what reason though, I decided to stick it out, see if things would get better. Benefits of hindsight, right?

Things started getting worse from there. I’d get chills walking through parts of the office, or while sitting at my desk. I put in requests to the property service to have the air-conditioning looked at, and everything came back as normal. The lights above my desk would flicker occasionally, no matter how many different bulbs I had maintenance swap out. I’d see shapes moving in dark corners on the edge of my vision, and they’d be gone when I turned to face them.

My health started to deteriorate, I was jumpy and tired a lot, losing weight, and my workmates were noticing the change. I wasn’t sleeping well, my dreams were plagued by shapes moving in the darkness, just out of my line of sight. I had to leave the lights on at home when I tried to sleep, I was too scared of what would happen if I awoke in the dark.

As I mentally and physically grew weaker thanks to stress and worry about what was happening, whatever was chasing me seemed to get stronger, more real somehow. I started noticing details in the darkness – long, lank black hair, for example- nothing clear or corporeal enough for me to be able to give a real idea of an appearance, but enough to make me shudder, thinking about possibilities. More than once, I felt the brush of impossibly cold fingers across my shoulder, turning to find nobody there.

I almost quit several times, thinking back now I don’t know why the hell I didn’t just up and leave. I think I might have stayed out of a sense of misguided pride, I wanted to show I was tougher than whatever was tormenting me, or at least to find out why it was only targeting me.

Nobody else had any issues at all, and they couldn’t understand my misgivings about being alone when I was at work now. I did try to look into the building’s history, but everything came up a blank. No skeletons in the closet, no suicides, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary at all. It made no sense, dammit!

Everything was about to come to a head, however, as we neared the Christmas season. One of the traditions of the workplace was a team photo every year. We would all get dressed up in our best to have the photo professionally taken, and then the photo would be blown up and hung out back. This year, though… They didn’t hang the photo. The day came and went as normal, we lined up together and had the photo taken, the photographer left, and we went about our day as normal.

A week went by, and I came into work one morning, to find the team surrounding my boss’ desk, looking at something on it. As I entered, the team looked up from what was on the desk as one, and all looked towards me at the same time. Something was wrong, I could tell. Some of their faces showed puzzlement, some showed confusion, and more than a few showed some fear. Without a word, they filed away from the desk and went off to their own stations, with my Boss beckoning to me to come over.

On his desk was an A3 sized photo – the team photo. He gestured for me to take a look, and I did, naturally seeking myself out from the bunch. I had been sitting in a chair at the front row, so it was fairly easy to find myself. But, when I did… everything went cold.

“What the hell is with this, (My Name)?” my boss asked, his voice quavering slightly. Whereas everyone else in the photo was completely normal and smiling brightly, my face was almost indescribable. When the photo had been taken I was smiling like everyone else, but here, here it looked like you were looking at my face through a fishbowl. I was distorted, stretched out. I looked in pain, my mouth stretched much wider than it would naturally go, eyes slightly crazed. And that wasn’t even the worst part.

There was something standing behind me. Again, to the eye it was nothing more distinct than a dark shape; no details could be made out but the way it loomed over me, it was… menacing, malevolent even. The hair on the back of my neck rose as I looked at the photo.

“I don’t have a clue, (boss’ name). Something up with the camera lens maybe?” I had considered telling him the truth, that there was something that seemed to be after me, but that’s a good way to end up as ‘the crazy guy’ in the office. As things were, I wasn’t even completely sure that I wasn’t already the crazy guy. The photo went in the bin.

The next day, I found myself posted to a different part of the office – the banking room. For security purposes, the banking room was completely internal & windowless, with swipe-card access in from the back area of the office. Once inside, the doors would lock magnetically, and you had to push a button on the wall in order to release the locks to get out.

My boss thought some time away from the counter would do me some good, and he’d arranged for an appointment with work-provided counselling services for me. An hour or so into the day, I felt a chill settle into the room. I looked at the thermostat on the wall, and was surprised to see it unchanged. Then, the lights began to flicker. They flicked on and off, on and off again. I spun on my chair, looking for a cause, but finding none. I spun back towards the desk – and came face to face with a nightmare.

The dark shape was on the desk. I recoiled in horror, pushing my chair back to the opposite wall, trying to put some distance between myself and it, but the room was small, and I hit the shelves lining the wall behind me, tumbling to the floor as I did so. For the first time ever, I could clearly see detail in the darkness, which would seem to solidify for a split second after the lights flickered off, and then fade in the light when they came back on again.

The figure was a girl. At least, it was the semblance of a girl, she could have been anywhere between 16 and 50. She was crouched in a squatting position on the desk, knees near her head, and hands on the flat desktop, long hair hanging down over her features. She seemed to be looking past me, but then the head turned – slowly, ever so slowly – and her gaze met mine.

Oh, god, those eyes! They were entirely black, but in different shades, so you could make out the different parts – where the white would normally be, the iris, the pupils. Those eyes were full of madness, of hatred; and of hunger – the perverse, unsettling hunger of a thing that desired something sitting just outside its grasp.

A single tear rolled down my quivering cheek as I looked up towards this horror. With every flicker of the light, she seemed to grow more solid, more real; as if feeding off the darkness and my fear in turn. Her grin crept slowly, hungrily across her face, impossibly wide, and the eyes grew more crazed and vicious and larger in turn.

She opened her mouth, baring long, sharp teeth, and looked as if she was trying to say something, but all that came from her throat was a hungry, dangerous growl – like nails on a chalkboard. I tried to call out in turn, but nothing came from my throat – nothing except a pathetic, frightened whimper.

Without taking my gaze from that nightmarish face, I struggled to get my feet under me. I didn’t dare look away, for fear she would be upon me. I’d seen how fast this thing could move in the darkness. Staying as close to the wall as I could, I backed slowly, ever so slowly away, towards the door. Her gaze followed me, as she cocked her head slightly to the side, as if trying to figure out what I was doing.

As I reached the door, I fumbled behind me for the button that would release the magnetic lock, and hopefully release me from the confines of the suddenly oppressively small room. I reached for it – and my hand hit the light switch.

The room plunged into darkness. I froze, all of a sudden feeling hot, wet, stinking breath on the back of my neck. It smelled like death and decay and corruption, and somehow of an aching, burning hunger.

“MINE…NOW…” a voice rasped in my ear. I found the ability to scream, as pain shot through my body.

I don’t remember much of what happened next, for which I’m truly grateful. I think my brain has tried to block some of it out. My colleagues heard my screams and came running. They found me in the corner of the room, flailing my bleeding arms and gibbering madly. An ambulance was called, and I was sedated and taken to hospital.

I had deep scratches all over my arms and torso, and bite marks on my wrists. The doctors decided that I’d had some sort of psychotic break and done it myself, because after all – who else could have done it? There was nobody in the room with me when I was found. I tried to point out that the bites didn’t look like my teeth, and that there was no blood or skin under my nails, but they didn’t listen.

The wounds eventually healed and became scars. My boss – good guy that he is – arranged for me to work for a separate part of the department, one in the brand new, well lit building. I remained in touch with some of my former workmates, although some of them now regarded me -perhaps not too wrongly of them – as a freak.

Since that day, I’ve never let myself be in the dark without at least some form of illumination. Most of the time I’ll stay in brightly-lit rooms, or outside in the sunshine. She can’t get to me in the light, and although she’s strong, she’s not yet strong enough to come out of the darkness. I think she wants to get me, and if she managed to catch me and finish me off, then maybe she’ll be strong enough to walk in the light.

So you see it’s not the dark that I’m afraid of. Not at all. It’s what lurks in the dark, watching, waiting; that’s what terrifies me. I think that she’s from somewhere beyond, somewhere behind the darkness, and was trying to get from there to here.

And I think that somehow, I let her in.

–
Credits to: Abtrogdor

The Seer of Possibilities

Sometimes, otherworldly beings find interesting ways to try and contact you. They might use a Ouija Board, or maybe come to you in a dream, or sometimes they speak through another person. They each have their own style and preference that’s particular to them. The one who contacted Jack spoke to him through his computer, or, I guess you could say the communication was through onscreen text. The first time it happened, Jack had been sitting at his computer playing Solitaire. A blinking red light from the router indicated that his internet connection was down again. This was at least a weekly occurrence, and Jack was getting used to this spotty internet service. As he moved his cards, the game faded into a solid black screen and the red text appeared.

“Hi Jack, I need a favor from you. You’re a very special person and I know you’ll help me. I can’t ask this of just anyone. I really need your help.”

Jack paused for a second. The router light was still blinking red. “Is this some sort of joke?” He couldn’t help but wondering.

Several moments later the message continued, “Yes Jack, I know this is weird for you. But I don’t want you to worry. This is just a small, easy favor I need. I’ll make sure you’re rewarded.”

Now nearly in a panic, Jack reached around and pulled the internet cable completely from the wall.

“Still here, Jack. I don’t want to waste any more of your time so I’ll get right to what I need. Tomorrow when you go to work I need you to move the large potted plant that’s next to the elevator on the ground floor. All you have to do is pull it out three inches from the wall. If you do it at 8:17am nobody else will be in the area.”

Jack sat there, refusing to respond, still trying to figure out what was happening.

The writing continued, “Look Jack, I’m asking you because I KNOW you’ll do it. You won’t let me down. You’re special. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Jack pulled the power cord from the wall and the computer went blank. “Did that really just happen?” he thought.

Still shaking from the experience, he took a warm shower and got ready for bed, convincing himself that he’d either had some crazy dream or that is was just some elaborate joke. But who would play that kind of joke on him? He didn’t really have friends, or enemies.

He woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. Work would start at 8:30am, and Jack was never late. He pulled into the parking lot at 8:10am. Normally he’d just go right in, but the message had told him to move the plant at 8:17am. Was he really going to do it? Overnight, Jack’s fear had turned into curiosity. Let’s say he moved the plant, he wouldn’t be doing anything wrong or illegal, right? In Jack’s mind, the most reasonable course of action was to move the plant. He’d do it, nothing would happen, and he’d be able to put this whole crazy matter behind him. One minute before 8:17 Jack left his car and walked towards the building. He entered the foyer at the exact time he was supposed to. The message was right, nobody else was around.

“Odd,” Jack thought. The building was normally busy this time of morning, but this temporary lull had been accurately predicted.

“Fine! Let’s see what happens,” Jack muttered to himself.

He walked up to the large potted plant placed firmly between the two elevators in the lobby of the ten story building. The plant looked like it was fake, a decoration people passed every day without really noticing. It was heavier than Jack realized. He put some might into his effort and pulled the plant out three inches to his best estimate. He stood back and looked at the plant, then looked around the lobby. People were coming in behind him now and the lobby was starting to fill up again. Nobody seemed to notice the plant was in a slightly different location, nothing seemed different at all. Jack skipped the next elevator and waited, waited for…something. But nothing happened. Finally Jack entered the elevator and made it to his 7th floor cubicle, on time like always.

If you ever asked Jack’s coworkers to describe him, you’d hear words like polite, quiet, respectful, and competent. And while those words were all accurate, they gave little indication of the truth, the truth that Jack really didn’t like most people. That’s not to say he disliked them, just that he had very little interest in getting to know them or being their friend, save for one. Allie, the girl who sat two cubicles down from him, was the only person he wanted to know more about. With her big smile, blonde hair, and beautiful figure, Jack was very interested in learning all about her. Despite his lack of success with women in the past, he was actually doing a fair job getting to know her. Every morning as he passed her cubicle, he’d stop for a chat. The chats were one minute at first, then two minutes, then several minutes. Jack was surprised that she actually seemed to like him.

On this particular morning, their daily conversation lasted only a couple of minutes. As they exchanged their morning greetings and talked about Allie’s wild night out, the elevator doors opened up behind them. Out hobbled James Bentley, the boss of both Jack and Allie.

James’ loud complaining could be heard throughout the office, “My damn foot!”

“What happened, James?” came the mumbled queries.

“It’s that damn plant they have in the lobby. I ran right into it and twisted my ankle.”

“James, you can barely walk. You need to go to the hospital,” came Allie’s concerned reply.

“Can’t do it now. I have meetings all day. Too important to cancel. I’ll just have to tough it out.”

Jack, feeling stunned, left Allie’s cubicle mid conversation and sunk down into his chair. It was his fault, he was sure of it. How could he have been so stupid and careless? Still, no use in worrying about it now. A twisted ankle would heal, everything would be alright.

Upon his return home, Jack went immediately to his computer and turned it on. As soon as the computer booted up, the screen went black and a new message popped up.

“How was your day, Jack?”

He sat there, staring at the screen, not knowing how to answer. The message on the screen continued, “Actually, I know how your day was, but never let it be said that I’m not polite. You’re wondering what’s going on. You want to know why James Bentley had to twist his ankle. Well Jack, this chain of events isn’t done playing out. I don’t want to tell you too much too soon, but this will all make sense to you in short order. Just go to work tomorrow like you normally do. Don’t worry about a thing Jack. You’ll be rewarded. You’re special. Talk to you tomorrow.”

Jack sat back in his chair. What was going on? Who was this was sending him messages? Jack’s curiosity was fully engaged, and he was almost a bit excited to see what would happen next.

The next morning at work started off as any ordinary day. Jack noticed that the plant had been pushed back fully against the wall, probably by the night cleaning crew. James Bentley showed up shortly after lunch, hobbling into the office on his one good foot.

“Man this foot is killing me,” Jack could overhear him say, but apparently James still had a meeting he didn’t want to miss. It wasn’t until around 3 o’clock that Jack saw him again. James, who always seemed to prefer Allie over others, came limping up to her cubicle.

“Allie, you’re not doing anything right now, are you?”

“Um, no. Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow I guess.”

“Good, could you please drive me to see my Doctor? I probably should’ve gone yesterday, but I just couldn’t get away. This pain is just killing me right now and I don’t think I can drive myself, I barely made it here this morning and I don’t think I can even push the gas pedal right now. We can take my car if you want.”

“Yeah that’s fine James, I don’t have a problem taking you.” Turning to Jack she said her goodbye, “See you tomorrow, Jackie.” She put on her coat and slowly followed James as he struggled down the hallway. She gave a half turn and a shrug in Jack’s direction, with a little smile as she walked away. Jack felt even lonelier than normal when she was gone.

It was ten minutes later that they all heard the crash. It was preceded by the loud horn of an 18 wheeler and screeching brakes. The collision itself was a sickening thud of two large metal object colliding. Even on the 7th floor it was loud. The office workers gasped and ran to the windows.

“Is that James’ car?” One of them asked.

“Hard to tell from up here,” someone responded, “It’s so banged up.”

The horrifying implication of what’d just happened came to Jack immediately.

“No, no, no,” he though. “This can’t be true.”

Shaking all the way, he ran to the elevator and went to the ground floor along with several others from the office. Some of them were crying. As they joined the growing crowd around the scene of the accident, Jack could hear the far off sound of emergency sirens. Looking past the gawkers, he could see that the 18 wheeler had hit James’ car broadside, its driver had been thrown out onto the pavement where he lay motionless. James was sitting in the passenger seat of his car, motionless but with a surprised look on his bloody face. Jack couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead. The driver’s side, where Allie was seated, had taken the hit. The space she’d been occupying had been compacted to a third of its original size. Allie’s head was smashed open and her twisted body was broken and battered. The crowd was stunned. Tears, screams, sirens; that was all Jack could hear. Without going back inside the building, Jack ran to his car and drove home, angry and sad.

He made the journey home and to his computer. There the machine sat, he wanted to turn it on, but was afraid of what he’d find out. Was he really the one responsible for Allie’s death? The whole chain of events had started with him. He knew he was to blame. Jack reached for the power button, and then pulled his hand back. Finally, after several minutes, he found the mental strength to turn it on. The screen flickered and then went black, and the familiar text started appearing on the screen.

“No Jack, it’s not your fault. I know you’re blaming yourself. But all people die eventually, some just sooner than others.”

Jack stared at the screen. He resisted the urge to throw the monitor to the ground.

After a moment, the writing continued, “Jack, I’m going to tell you something, and I really need you to seriously consider everything I’m about to say. You thought you were in love with Allie. The truth is, you just wanted to fuck her. And please excuse my language, but every once in a great while it’s best to be blunt. Jack, she wasn’t the one for you. She would’ve made your life miserable. Yes, you would’ve eventually found the courage to ask her out. She actually was interested in you. She thought you’d make a good “project.” Sad really, for her, not for you. I want you to think back to all the things she told you. Why did her last boyfriend break up with her?”

“Because she cheated on him,” Jack mumbled under his breath.

“Because she cheated on him, Jack. The same thing she would’ve done to you. She would’ve made you happy for about 2 months, and then miserable for the next 4 years. Sneaking around, laughing at you behind your back, spending all your money. Once you finally got rid of her, you would’ve been so jaded that you’d never date again. This is true Jack. I see all future possibilities, the ones that come to pass and the ones that don’t. You’ve seen how she really is Jack, but you let your lust for her blind you to the truth. Together, you and I have made sure you avoided that path. One more thing Jack, this isn’t done playing out yet. There’s more to come.”

“No! Fuck you! You killed her!” Jack screamed and threw the monitor from the desk. It landed on the floor and sparked out.

Jack got barely any sleep that night, and the next day he wasn’t sure he wanted to go to work, but the last words he’d been told had piqued his curiosity, and his anger had somewhat subsided. No work was done that day at the office. The company brought in grief counselors, people shared their thoughts, they cried, they hugged. James had actually survived the accident, but was in a coma. The doctors thought he might recover eventually, but nobody was really sure.

Late in the afternoon, Jack was approached by Diego Salbara, the head of the division. Diego was blunt and upfront, and he offered James’ position to Jack. Technically it would be a temporary promotion, but James wouldn’t be back any time soon. Diego promised him that the promotion would be made permanent once enough time had passed.

“Let’s keep this low key for now.” Diego told him. “I know it might seem quick, but the Lancaster project James was working on can’t be stopped. It’s too important to the company. I need someone in charge right away, this can’t wait.”

Stunned, Jack accepted the promotion. He left work with a strange mixture of feelings, not really sure how he felt about anything. On his way home, he stopped at the electronics store and bought a new monitor. He made it home and powered up the computer. Once again the writing came on the screen.

“Jack, I want to be the first one to congratulate you! I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

Jack stared at the screen.

“Jack, I have to ask your forgiveness because haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m called the Seer. Like I told you before, I see what will be, and I see what can be. It’s a very powerful gift I have. But you know what, Jack? For all my power, I still can’t do anything corporeal. I can predict, I can see, and with enough effort, I can even communicate. But I don’t have a body, that’s something that was taken from me a long, long time ago. That’s why I need you Jack. I’m an artist of sorts, an artist of human manipulation. You’ll be my paintbrush and my canvas. I want you to work with me Jack. It’s all very simple, just perform simple tasks for me, from time to time.”

Jack was becoming more and more curious.

“And Jack, before you give me an answer, I want you to know a couple of things. First off, I’ll never lie to you. Secondly, I’ll never ask you to do anything which, taken by itself, is wrong or illegal. Yes, bad things will result, and sometimes people will die. But they’re going to die eventually anyways, right Jack? And the bad will always be balanced out by something good happening to you.”

Jack winced at this last idea, but he fought the urge to turn the computer off. The Seer was right. Everyone would die eventually, why not let something good come of it? And what about never lying to him? If he’d known at the time that Allie was going to die, he’d have never gone through with the original favor. But as he thought more about it, he realized The Seer hadn’t lied to him, but had only withheld information. Still, Jack wondered if he could trust The Seer.

“Work with me Jack, together we’ll make incredible things happen. I’m just asking you to perform little tasks from time to time. Oh, but these little tasks will have great consequences! They’re going to be beautiful Jack, and they’ll always end with a reward for you. That’s the beauty of my art, one single task produces something bad and something good. Oh, one last thing Jack, I can see you’re having trouble with this. If I stopped talking to you right now, it would take you about two weeks to decide to join me. But you know what Jack, you WOULD join me. That’s right, you’re going to say yes. So instead of waiting, why don’t you just say yes to me now? Let’s get started Jack. And when all this is over, you’re going to thank me. I promise you.”

Jack considered what The Seer had just said. His initial feeling of revolt was slowly fading. He paused, and then for the first time, he placed his fingers on the keyboard and responded directly to The Seer. “What do you want me to do next?”
_____________________________
As years passed, Jack did every favor the Seer asked of him, and as the Seer had promised, Jack was rewarded for his actions each time. The rewards often came in unexpected and interesting ways. One of the more memorable experiences for Jack happened about 2 years after he first agreed to help the Seer.

“Jack, I need you to go downtown tomorrow,” the Seer requested. “Enter Garmin’s Liquor at exactly 12:37pm. A man will ask you a question. The answer you’re to give him is ‘twenty seven.’”

As always, the Seer’s instructions were simple and direct, yet mysterious. The next day, as requested, Jack entered the store. In front of him, a burly construction worker was at the counter filling out a lottery playslip.
“Let’s see here,” said the construction worker, “My birthday, that’s the 15th, my wife’s birthday, that’s the 24th, and my kids’ ages, two, ten and thirteen.”

The man scratched his head and looked around, zeroing in on Jack, “Hey buddy! I need another number. Ya got one for me?”

Jack smiled, “Twenty seven.”

“Really? I was thinkin’ bout playin’ thirty five. But ya know what? I like your face, let’s go with twenty seven!”

With that, the man completed his slip and paid for his lottery ticket. “See ya, pal!” he said happily and he patted Jack on the shoulder on his way out the door.

Jack tried not to put any more thought into what would happen to this man. “Just let these things play out, Jack. You’ll never guess how things end up, so just let yourself be surprised,” the Seer had advised him. Still, it was impossible not to wonder about these things from time to time. He knew, considering the way the Seer worked, there was no way possible that he’d actually helped this man. But giving him a losing lottery number? That was too simple for the Seer. And he couldn’t imagine he’d actually given him a winning number. So that’s how Jack was surprised, when two weeks later, he ran into the same man again, this time at the grocery store.

“Hey buddy! It’s you! I remember you! Check it out, I won!” Indeed, the man looked like a million dollars. Wearing new clothes, a new gold watch, and a big goofy smile, the man walked right up to Jack.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, but I’m glad you’re here. I coulda never won without you. Hey, lemme buy these groceries for you. No wait, that’s not good enough for you, you’re my good luck charm. Always gotta treat people right, that’s what my mom says.”

Reaching into his pocket, the man removed his checkbook and promptly wrote Jack a check for ten thousand dollars. “It’s the least I can do for my good luck charm.”

After thanking the man, and feeling a bit confused by the whole thing, Jack raced home to his computer. After turning it on, the Seer’s writing appeared on the screen. “Well Jack, how does it feel to be ten thousand dollars richer?”

“It feels good. But I can’t help but wonder, we’ve never helped anyone before. Why are we starting now?” Jack asked that question with a tinge of guilt. He never liked to admit that people were being hurt by his actions, but in this case his curiosity overwhelmed any latent feelings of guilt.

“Oh Jack, we haven’t helped anyone. Yes, that man is happy now, but he’ll have lost every last penny within two years. You saw it for yourself, he just gives money away. Old friends, lost relatives, they’re all going to come asking him for money. And there will be some very bad investments as well. The stress of losing everything is going to cause his wife to leave him. She’ll take the kids too. He’ll be alone and broke, a ruined man who would have been much better off if he’d never won. You needn’t feel bad Jack, it’s the man’s own stupidity and greed that will do this to him.”

Jack felt some regret, but the Seer’s rationalizing, and focusing on his own reward, always put him at peace in the end.

Through the years, no two tasks were ever alike. Sometimes the effects of his actions were direct and easy to see, other times they caused a chain reaction so complex that he simply could not follow it.
“Go to the County Administrator’s building, park in space number 43 at 4:47pm.” came one such request. Jack did so, and two months later he met Donna, with whom he fell in love and ended up marrying. He wouldn’t have even known the two events were even related if he hadn’t asked the Seer about it.

“Jack, when you parked in that space, you caused the person who would’ve parked there to park in a different spot, but she bumped the car next to her. She barely made a scratch, but she called her insurance agent anyway, causing him to leave the office late. He missed his train home, and while waiting for the late train, he was mugged and stabbed, he’ll never fully recover. The muggers took his credit cards and used them…..and Jack, I could keep going with this, but there’s another twenty three people involved. Sometimes these favors are going to be very complicated, but let’s just say your action ultimately caused Donna to be in the exact right place for you to meet her.”

Jack’s relationship with the Seer grew. Though remaining mostly mysterious, the Seer divulged enough information over time so that Jack could get a generalized understanding of the Seer’s history. From historical references, Jack knew the Seer was thousands of years old. When still alive, the Seer had been a powerful fortune teller and artist, who foretold future happenings through paintings. A foolish king, who misinterpreted the Seer’s prediction and lost a battle as a result, had the Seer executed. Unencumbered by physical senses, and existing in a lonesome void, the Seer’s abilities expanded exponentially. Finally learning to communicate with the living, the Seer began reaching out to those who would respond, including Jack. And of course, the Seer knew everything about Jack. In all, it was as much of a friendship as one can have with a dead person. And Jack was grateful to the Seer too. He had a nice job, a nice house, a beautiful wife, and people respected him. He was happy, which is something he never really felt before the Seer contacted him.

Twelve years in total passed, twelve good years for Jack. Task after task was completed, usually about one every month. Jack, sitting in the office of his large rural house, was contacted by the Seer once again.

“Hi Jack, I have a favor to ask of you. This one’s the easiest yet, you don’t even have to get up. Call Riago’s Pizza in exactly two minutes, let the phone ring three times, then you can hang up.”

Jack smiled, nice and easy. He no longer wondered about how these tasks would play out. He trusted the Seer and simply did as he was told. Jack made the call, exactly two minutes later.

The quietness of the household was broken 30 minutes later by the ringing doorbell. “That’s odd,” Jack thought. Neither he nor Donna were expecting anyone. Jack looked out the peephole and saw a pizza deliver boy. The logo on his cap said “Riago’s Pizza”.

Jack opened the door. “Here’s your pizza,” said the boy as he thrust it into Jack’s hand.

“But I didn’t order this.” Jack argued.

“Look, I don’t give a damn if you ordered it or not. Mr. Riago told me to take it here, so that’s what I’m doing.” the delivery boy argued, as he looked increasingly annoyed and spat in the bushes.

Jack looked at the boy in front of him. He looked to be about seventeen years old, but the most noticeable thing about him was his size, he was huge. Probably about six and a half feet tall, and very muscular.

“It’s already paid for by credit card, just take it, because I’m not driving it back.” The boy put out his hand for a tip.

“I, I don’t have any cash on me.” Jack told the truth.

“Whatever,” came the disgusted reply. The boy looked past Jack into the house, then turned and walked slowly to his waiting car, looking over his shoulder as he walked.

Jack closed the door and took the pizza to the living room, where Donna was watching TV. After explaining what had happened, he excused himself to go to his office, promising to return shortly.

Donna opened the pizza and took a piece. “Come back soon sweetie, this pizza’s got all your favorite toppings on it.” Donna giggled as she took a bite.

Arriving at his computer, the Seer’s words appeared on the screen. “Confused, Jack? Don’t be. Your neighbor down the road ordered the pizza. Mr. Riago told that boy the correct address, but a ringing phone made it difficult for him to be heard clearly. Still, give the boy credit, he got the street right at least.”

“So my reward is a pizza?” Jack typed, a little confused.

“Yes Jack, your reward is a pizza, and also the chance to spend a little time with your wife. Go down there, share the pizza, enjoy it. When you’re done, make love to Donna. That’s not one of your tasks, that’s just some advice I think you should follow. Oh, by the way, your neighbors who ordered the pizza are arguing right now, over the silly fact that the pizza didn’t arrive. Some of the things people argue over amaze me, they really do. Their fight is going to get very heated, but you don’t need to worry about that. Go, enjoy your night.”

Jack followed the Seer’s advice, cuddled with Donna as they enjoyed their meal, then made love to her on their big, comfortable living room couch. Donna fell asleep on the couch shortly after 11:00pm. Jack lay there awake, this latest favor, it just felt odd. Carefully extracting his arm from under Donna, Jack left the living room and headed upstairs. Sitting down at the computer, Jack typed, “Are you there?”

“Yes Jack, I’m actually always here. I’ve been waiting for you to come back. That pizza delivery boy. He’s quite a specimen, isn’t he?”

Jack looked quizzically at the screen.

The seer continued, “He’s a horrible employee. He was hired only three days ago and already Mr. Riago wants to fire him, but as a physical specimen, he’s strong, fast, and VERY observant. For example, he noticed that you didn’t lock the front door after he delivered your pizza.”

“What?” Jack said aloud as he started to get up.

“Sit down Jack. I need to tell you something important, and locking the door now won’t change your situation.”

Jack slowly took his seat again at the computer, looking behind himself as he did so.

“You see Jack, it’s true that I never lied to you. Everything I’ve ever told you is 100% honest. But yes, I’ve withheld certain facts. You see, I told you that every task causes something bad to happen to someone else and something good to happen to you, but there’s a third thing. There’s an ultimate goal that each task was working toward. Remember Allie? Of course you do. What you probably don’t remember about her is that she was helping to pay her brother’s way through college. When she died, he had to drop out. He was going to be a great psychologist, but now he works in a factory instead. That’s really too bad for our pizza delivery boy, he could’ve used a good therapist a few years ago, but that good therapist wasn’t there for him, instead he got some Freudian quack. And remember our lottery winner? Yes you do. He was a neighbor to our pizza boy, after he lost all his money of course. He beat the boy senseless after the boy jumped into the street in front of his car. Quite a traumatic memory for our young lad. And his mother didn’t care about that incident, didn’t protect the boy at all. She couldn’t, not after using all the drugs given to her by her boyfriend, who happened to be one of the muggers who robbed that insurance agent. He bought the drugs with the money he made from the robbery. Do you see now the scope of my artistry?”

Jack sat, glaring at the monitor. He wanted to get up, to check on Donna, but he was too scared to move.
The Seer continued, “Jack, you’ve done over a hundred tasks for me, and each one has served an ultimate purpose, to psychologically destroy this boy, turn him into a monster, and to bring him here tonight. Don’t you see Jack? This involved tens of thousands of people, and billions of possibilities. If you had failed to complete even one of the tasks, the whole chain would’ve collapsed. This was orchestrated by me, and set in motion by you. Together we’ve done something wonderful, this is a masterpiece of human manipulation. Our masterpiece. And it all begins and ends with you, two perfect points in time. Tonight, wrong address, no tip, this poor boy finally snapped. He’s downstairs right now. He’s slitting Donna’s throat, at this exact moment.

Jack could hear a short, muffled scream coming from the living room, followed by a gurgling noise.
“No!” Jack screamed and stood up, starting to run downstairs.

“Jack, stop!” The voice startled Jack. It was inside his head. For the first time, the Seer was talking to him directly. It was a pleasant voice, a feminine voice. “You can’t do anything, she’s already gone. He’ll be coming for you shortly, and you can’t stop him.”

“But why?” Jack cried with tears welling up in his eyes.

“It’s not an artistic masterpiece if it doesn’t begin and end with you, Jack.” Her voice was soothing. “I want you to appreciate the fact that I’m talking to you directly. This requires all of my energy, and as a result, I’ll have to rest for several years before I can contact anyone again. That’s how special you are to me. Please don’t feel bad about this, Jack. I want you to take a moment and enjoy our accomplishment as much as I do.” The voice paused briefly, and then continued. “Do you know what Jack? If I’d never contacted you, you would have lived for eighty five years. Eighty five boring, meaningless, and bitter years. And when you died, nobody would’ve been at your funeral. I gave you twelve great, meaningful years. You were happy, and together we did something beautiful, something unique.”

Jack paused a minute and considered his twelve years of happiness, and his tears of sorrow mixed with tears of joy. He turned and looked at the computer, while behind him, the massive hulk of the demented delivery boy appeared in the doorway, a bloody knife in his left hand.

On the screen, the last words from the Seer appeared, “Don’t you have something to say to me, Jack?”

Jack wiped his tears, and absorbed everything the Seer had just told him.

As the hulk started stepping closer to him, Jack said mouthed his final words, “Thank you.”

---
Credit To – Thomas O.

The Neighbor’s Pup

My neighbors are puppy sitting again. This is only the second time they’ve done it.

How do I know? Because that puppy will not shut up. Whining, barking, growling… I hear it all.

Whoever they puppy sit for has a terrible pup.

All I’ve heard is that damn puppy all night. Throwing it’s body weight against the garage, howling to be let out…must be looking for some action I guess, but still!

And they have a young child, Eric. Isn’t this keeping him up too? How inconsiderate. The first time this happened I didn’t say anything cause I figured they wouldn’t sit that puppy anymore but now….

I hear louder banging on the garage door. I look out the window that gives me a perfect view of their driveway. Lit by a full moon, I see the garage door shaking. At least it’s holding.

I guess I’ll have to talk to them tomorrow….

–
Credits to: krshann

Joshua

I always liked Joshua. He was a nice kid, if a bit slow. He was radically unpopular the way one person always is in a school. Too beefy to be good at any sports, too clumsy even if he slimmed down. Hardly smart enough to even stay with the rest of his class, consistently scraping by with D’s across the board. His writing was particularly chicken-scratch. He spoke well enough, but it seemed like he couldn’t make those same sentences on paper.

But I liked his big, goofy, uncoordinated self.

Some kids might smack his books out of his hands (unnecessary, he likely would have dropped them in a few moments without any help, tripping over his own feet) or slap an “I’m Stupid!” sign on his back (again, unnecessary. According to rumor, he had the lowest scores in every subject, and everyone knew it), and I would always help him gather his stuff back up, or tip him off there was something on his back.

When I woke up this morning, I found a letter taped to the outside of my window. It’s not easy to reach that window from the tree branches hanging nearby…

Amanda,
Don’t come to school today. You’re the only one, the only one, who ever treated me like a human.

I’m sorry to say I’ve been planning this for a long, long time. I knew I was in a group of bad people, but I wanted to see how bad. How they’d treat someone they consider inferior. It was all a ruse.

In this petri dish, you are the only thing worth saving.
·         Love, Joshua

­­–
Credits to: Mattpayhan

Highway 77

Below is a very true event that happened to my girlfriend and I, and why we always tell our friends and family to avoid Highway 77 when coming to visit us in Tucson.

Our car had broke down on a nearly empty stretch of highway between Tucson and Globe, AZ. We were on our way to the White Mountain Apache reserve to visit some friends and do some hiking.

I hear a knocking noise and our car starts to lose power. Pulled over, lifted up the hood, started up the car and then a spark-plug shot right out. Turned out the threading for the spark-plug hole had worn out.

This happened during dusk, so I grabbed my flashlight and searched the ground for the missing spark-plug. Found it at the bottom of the cattle guard we were parked next to, the damn ceramic on it shattered to pieces when it shot out and bounced off the steel bars.

It’s night now, so we both pull out our phones and begin climbing the small hill we’re next to where we parked and try to call a tow-truck and some friends.

No signal.

My girlfriend and I needed that car and not knowing whether it was wise to continue on with a missing spark-plug, we prepared ourselves for a very long walk.

We put on our jackets, grab the jug of water (we’re runners) we kept in the backseat, and begin our silent journey. Just as I locked the doors, a car passed us by then did a u-turn up on a hill and started making its way slowly towards us.

Now I don’t know if any of you have taken highway 77 between Tucson, AZ and Globe, AZ, but it’s the type of road that makes you think “Man, I bet some fucked up shit happens in these rusted out mobile homes near the road.”

We turn to each other and both think the same thing: This can either be very good or very bad. I unlock the car, grab a flat-head screwdriver and slide it into my scuffed up doc martin boot. I dig around my bag of hiking gear for my SOG knife and forgot that I had lent it to a friend the night before.

The car pulls up while I’m digging around for any other tools or weaponry, and this tall older looking guy steps out along with a small Mexican lady about his age or younger.

“You two all right? We’re on our way to the casino up at Pinetop, saw you guys looking around with a flashlight and so my wife says we should turn around and help ya!”

“Thanks, one of the spark-plug holes got stripped and spit out a spark-plug. I was looking for it and found it in pieces.”

He walks up and tells me to pop the hood and I can tell that despite his age, he’s strong and probably stronger than me.

As he looks at the car, he agrees that it’d be unwise to drive it like this and that we could catch a ride with them to Globe. My girlfriend decides at this point to let them know that we’re also on our way towards Pinetop.

“Perfect, you can ride with us all the way, we gotta make a small stop up ahead though at my wife’s daughter’s house to pick up some stuff, hope you don’t mind.”

Now I’m thinking why is he driving all the way to Pinetop to go to one of the worst casinos in the state? He could easily drive south and head back down to Tucson, which is closer. Why Pinetop?

“Why Pinetop?”

“What’s that?”

“Why go to Pinetop? Hondah Casino, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Tucson’s closer, the casinos there are nicer, I think.”

“I like driving to Pinetop, You never know who’ll run into.” he says with a wink.

Now I’m really thinking “ok, shit, should we go with this guy and his wife?”

“We’d love to get a ride from you!” my girlfriend says, standing next to the guy’s wife, staring at me with a get-in-their-damn-car-already face.

“Yeah, we’ll take you up on that offer. I can help with gas, I have a few bucks, not a lot. Our friends will be worried about us, they’re expecting us soon.”

Hoping I dropped enough hints that we’re not worth anything sinister he’s got planned, I close the hood and we all get into his car.

The wife talks a mile a minute as we head north. She used to live all over the southwest, always on the move. A real desert rat, living in motels and hard times until she met her husband.

My girlfriend and I are getting comfortable, she squeezes my hand and rests her head on my shoulder when the wife suddenly says “I was anally raped. Over and over, then I got used to it.”

My blood turns to ice, I feel my girlfriends body stiffen up and I clench my hand over the handle of the screwdriver in my boot.

“This guy I met a long time ago, he was supposed to help me and once we got to his place, he drugged me, locked me up and raped me over and over. Eventually, I just gave in and expected it because he did it like clockwork. Over and over.”

I know as a kid, I used to daydream about being a hero and how brave and famous I’d be for taking down the bad guy. Once I was confronted with what looked like the real deal, I was scared as shit and thought irrationally.

I thought about plunging the screwdriver right in the guy’s ear, grabbing the steering wheel while my girlfriend, hopefully, kept the man’s wife at bay.

“Hey, Jenny, we’re on our way to Globe! Yeah, this great couple picked us up in a tan Ford Taurus, so look out for us when we pull up, ok! We’re about 20 minutes away. Love ya!” She hangs up. “Got a signal! Jenny said she’s at the Chevron gas station now with her husband, they’ll be waiting. Totally lucked out!”

The husband looks at the wife, then stares in his rear-view mirror.

“You can get a signal here? I’ve never gotten a signal through the canyon. Who’s your mobile provider?”

“Uhh, (a large mobile phone carrier).”

“Oh yeah? Can you call my daughter and tell her we’re running a little late? Don’t want your friends waiting so we’ll just head straight to Globe instead of stopping at her house.”

“Umm, what’s her number?” my girlfriend says through tight lips, her brows furrowed. We don’t know a Jenny.

The man gives us his daughter’s number and my girlfriend tries to dial it. No signal. She looks at me, I can see the fear in her eyes now and my previous plan begins replay itself in my mind again.

“Let me try my phone.” the man says, and begins to reach for his pocket.

I’m seriously thinking do it now, do it because he’s got a gun and he’s going to send us straight to hell.

I don’t do shit. And it’s a good thing because he pulls out his small flip phone.

“Holy shit, pardon my language, but I got some bars here!”

The man calls his daughter, whose voice I can clearly hear on the other end.

We sit in silence all the way to Globe, which thankfully wasn’t too long.

As we pull into the Chevron, the guys parks and leans over to us and says “I know you didn’t call your friend, and I know you probably got something nasty in that boot of yours. Hell, I’d be worried too if had a pretty girl like yours by my side. Things being what they are, we’re both just glad to help you out. And I’m sorry my wife here spoke about what happened to her, she’s traumatized by it and I help her every day with her recovery.”

We both step out, feeling like complete assholes and I hand him the cash to get some gas.

“No need, I got plenty. I got plenty. By the way, I would’ve crushed your puny wrists before you jammed whatever it is you’ve got, in me. Then I’d have another daughter to raise at home.”

–
Credits to: hatathli

Paranoia

My dog was a stray before I picked him up, so he tends to be pretty skittish and defensive. A skipped rope halfway down the street could start a barking fit so intense he actually threw up once before he calmed down.

So you’ll imagine I was worried when I heard the door slam shut downstairs without another sound besides the shower steaming around me. I panicked a little, I admit, willing myself to hear the doggy’s raspy howl mingled with the pops and hisses of the water and the pipes rumbling through the walls.

I wrapped up in a towel and hesitated at the bathroom door. A million stories roamed my head. I pushed it open slowly, scanning the wall for shadows cast from halfway down the staircase, sniffing for a sweaty invader, waiting for a sharp breath from the kitchen.

I poked my head out. The front door stood at the bottom, locked. The floor was clean. The towel pushed up against the threshold, a poor seal against the winter drafts. Safe and sound, and still no peep from the puppy.

I laughed at my stupid imagination and pulled my clothes back on. Buck lay right where I left him, napping on a blanket he’d stolen off the couch. Once I dried off and we both had a bite to eat, we stepped out into the cold sunlight and found ourselves a hiding spot just before the owner of the house pulled up the driveway.

No more scary movies for me. My paranoia’s going to get me caught someday.

–
Credits to: LivingHalloween

Some Mirrors Don’t Shatter

Like most men, David had never liked his in-laws much. The exception was his wife’s grandmother. His wife had always been her favorite grandchild, so he was treated like he had always been a part of her family and not just married into it. She had recently passed away, and not surprisingly, left her house and all of her earthly belongings to his wife Gloria.

If not for the location being two states away from where they lived and worked, he would have eagerly moved into the large two-story Victorian. Instead, but not to a detriment, the property would be sold along with any valuable items inside of it.

It sounded simple enough to go through the house and separate the things that would be sold from the items that would be kept. David had no sentimental connection to any of the items, so he only saw things that would be sold and things that would be thrown away. Gloria’s perception of everything in the house was either sell or keep. The boxes of things to keep were outnumbering the sell items four to one. If this continued, they would be bringing nearly everything in the old house back with them.

Understanding that his efforts would be scrutinized, and ultimately wasted, David decided to just venture around the house and explore. A part of him had the childish idea that he would find a secret room or hidden valuables. Despite not finding any such thing, the fantasy at least kept him entertained. Mistaking a door underneath the stairs for a closet, David was surprised to find that the door led to a basement.

Dark, but not foreboding, the large room was sparse and silent. The lighting was adequate enough to relegate the darkness to the corners of the room, but not banish it completely.

From what he could see, the room only contained a small pile of bricks near the stairs, an old flowery patterned chair, and a large wine rack that covered most of the side wall.

David plopped down on the old high backed chair, sending a cloud of dust up into the air. Temporarily blinded, he squinted his eyes as he waved his hand back and forth in front of his face. The dust slowly drifted towards the floor, but not before sending him in to a sneezing fit. As he regained his composure, he looked around the dimly lit room from the comfort of the dusty chair.

From upstairs, his wife Gloria yelled down for him. “David honey, is there anything down there?”

Her voice startled him. He was unaware that she had seen him descend into the basement.

“I found a wine rack. The bottles look really old too,” He shouted back up.

“Well pick us a good one and bring it up. I could use a glass,” She shouted back.

With a labored groan, he rose from the chair and moved to the wine rack. There were hundreds of bottles, most of which were either French or Italian. One bottle in particular caught his eye. It looked exceptionally older than the rest of the dusty bottles. His first thought was to blow the dust away, but decided to wipe it away so he could avoid another round of sneezing.

He stared curiously at the label. The lettering was foreign, and it was a language he had never seen before. The letters were like nothing he had ever seen. The writing was strange, but not so strange that it caused him any concern. The label only left him with an eagerness to open the bottle and have a taste. With the cork already partially protruding, David was able to remove it easily with his index and thumb fingers. Without smelling it first, he tilted the bottle upward and took a big gulp. It tasted exactly the way that it looked, old, strange, and dusty. Returning the bottle to the rack, he instead chose a bottle with large looping cursive words written in French.

Satisfied with his choice, David began to head upstairs. He gave the room one last look and his curiosity was instantly piqued by what he saw. An old wooden chest with rusted metal framing sat alone against the opposite wall. It was a fairly large box and David’s mind immediately began to fantasize about the contents. Images of gold coins and jewels from every corner of the earth danced around in his mind. He imagined swashbuckling pirates and large ships with tattered skull and cross bone flags hung high above the sails.
He couldn’t help but smile. Once reality returned, his expectations became more realistic. There was probably nothing of any value in the chest– old clothes perhaps, or even letters and photos.

A rusted and frail looking lock prohibited immediate entry. He needed something to smash the lock with. David retrieved a brick from the pile near the stairs, and with only a moderate amount of force, he was able to break the lock.

He took a deep breath and opened the lid.

Disappointment.

What he found inside was far from treasure, and not even as interesting as old photos or clothing. There was a large mirror wrapped in an old blanket. He removed the mirror and leaned it against the wall.

David took a step back to examine the mirror. The framing was atrocious. He knew that his sentimental wife would refuse to part with it and it would find its way to a wall in their home.

“Not a chance,” He said out loud.

He picked up the brick that he had used to break the lock and stepped back to a safe distance. Once the mirror was broken, he would just lay it on its face and claim that it had accidentally fallen over. It wasn’t like Gloria was going to launch an investigation into his claim.

As he raised the brick, he noticed that he couldn’t see his reflection in the mirror. He stepped closer, thinking that the angle of the mirror was the cause. After standing directly in front of it, still no reflection.

Maybe it was some old freak show carnival mirror used to sucker people into believing that an amazing feat of magic was being performed. He didn’t care either way. The mirror was not leaving the basement in one piece.

David wound up and tossed the brick across the basement. His aim was perfect and the brick approached the mirror center mass. He closed his eyes and cringed in anticipation of the sound of shattering glass.

The basement remained silent.

He opened his eyes and found that the mirror was undamaged. Searching the area for the brick, he was unable to find it right away. Looking towards the mirror, he saw the brick in the reflection. It was behind him, back where he had been standing. David smiled at the sight of it, but when he turned, his amusement switched to confusion.

The brick was only behind him in the mirror, and even worse, his reflection was still absent.

He retrieved another brick from the pile and once again threw it at the mirror, this time not shying away from the sight of the impact. The brick once again sailed towards the mirror, landing a little higher than the previous throw, but still near the center.

David gasped as he saw the brick fly through the mirror and slide across the floor near the first brick.

Slowly he moved towards the mirror. He took a deep breath and reached out to touch what should have been a smooth surface. What his hand found instead was an empty frame.

What should have been fear racing through his veins was instead curiosity. The same feeling that he had when he was expecting to find a chest full of pirate treasure had returned.

Before stepping completely though, David first poked his head into the mirror frame and looked around the new room. The room appeared to be exactly the same, save for the two bricks that rested on the floor.

At first he couldn’t notice any differences. The wine rack, the wooden chest, and even the old chair were all in the basement room, but on opposite sides of it. The only noticeable differences were that the pile of bricks near the stairs was instead a stack of wooden planks, and the wooden chest’s lid was closed without a lock on it.

David smiled as he cautiously tip toed across the room and opened the lid. What he found inside was tools. There were wrenches, pliers, saws, screwdrivers, hammers, and a large can full of nails. He closed the lid and went back to the mirror. He began to step back into the normal side, when another drop of curiosity landed on his brain.

If there is a mirrored version of everything in the basement, then there could be a version of him as well. 

The idea was frightening and he wondered if he ventured upstairs, would he find a version of his wife going through old boxes and a version of himself wandering around the house. The sour knot of fear twisted in his stomach. Much like the boards and the contents of the chest, there had to be other variations on this side of the mirror as well. David’s fear was a product of wanting to know, but understanding that discovering these differences could lead to unforeseen consequences.

Deciding to ignore the potential danger, he moved upstairs. With each step he ascended, the tighter the knot grew in his stomach.

The door at the top of the stairs was cracked slightly. He gently pulled it open, only to find an empty hallway. Remaining quiet, he listened for any sound. The house remained silent. Quickly, he snuck a quick glance to the left and right to make sure there was nothing dangerous on the periphery.

In a loud raspy whisper, he said, “Gloria.”

Again he paused, listening for any noise. Nothing. Feeling confident that the house, and possibly the world was empty, he moved from room to room comfortably. The house was dark, save for a small amount of red light beaming through the spaces between the boards on the windows. He flicked on one of the light switches and the room exploded with light. David shielded his eyes. Although he hadn’t explored the old house on the other side in great detail, he was familiar with the basic layout. He went from room to room, turning on lights and found that the only strange thing was that all of the windows and doors had been boarded up from the inside.

Before putting to rest the idea that this version of his world was void of life, he yelled out for Gloria one last time. This time he shouted at full volume.

More silence.

In the kitchen he opened the cabinets and found more of the strange writing from the wine bottle on all of the food packaging. He peeked outside through a gap on a boarded up window. The outside looked the same, save for the ruby colored sun beaming down.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the red light from another window momentarily obstructed as if someone had stepped in front of it. David quickly ducked down. He moved from room to room turning off each light until the house was once again bathed in only the minimal red sunlight from outside.

From outside he suddenly heard a low but constant squeaking sound. It sounded like two metal objects rubbing together without proper lubrication. Cautiously, he moved towards the windows and looked through one of the gaps in the boards again.

He found the source of the squeaking immediately. The wheels on a caged box car whined and squealed as it moved towards the house. The box car was the size of a large van, and had large wooden wagon wheels instead of the smaller metal train track wheels.

Two large figures walked in front of the box car, one pulling it by a chain. They seemed to be discussing something in a language that sounded like pouring milk on Kellogg’s rice crispies. The language was odd, but it was the least horrifying thing about the pair. They were humanoid, but considerably larger than humans. David guessed ten to twelve feet tall and at least five hundred pounds. Their appearance was like a bloated Nosferatu.

Their faces were large hairless white ovals that sat on stumpy necks. They lacked protruding noses or ears. Even the orifices for receiving smell and sound were absent. Small milky bulging eyes resided near to the center of their faces, and their mouths hung slack with long canine teeth—each one spaced several inches apart. Even though they had such predatory teeth, their clothing and behavior gave them the appearance of sleazy alien politicians. Both were bare foot, but wore flooding dark slacks and three quarter length top coats, buttoned to the collar. There was no way to tell what was under their clothing, but they both seemed to be males.

The pair argued for several minutes until one of them unlocked the cage on the wagon and reached inside. It removed its hand, holding a normal human woman. The woman screamed and fought, but the monstrous thing held her with the ease of a person holding a squirming puppy.

It thrust the woman towards its companion and continued to speak its crackling language. The other thing poked at one of her breasts tentatively with one pointy finger before responding with its own exaggerated response. It repeatedly pointed at the house and waved its arms in excitement.

David wished that he could understand what they were saying, or what exactly they were. Every part of his brain was screaming for him to return to the basement and out of this world, but the scene was so interesting to him that he couldn’t pull himself away. His mind was spinning and he felt light headed trying to figure out what he was seeing.

As the two things argued, a man jumped from the wagon and sprinted away. The pair stopped their argument for a moment and let out a screeching whistle, followed by more clicking. Similar in size to the two well dressed monsters, a shaggy horned guerrilla rushed from somewhere to the left of the house and chased the man down.

David had a limited field of vision from between the boards, so he couldn’t tell where the thing had come from. From his brief glance, he could see that the beast was covered in dark coarse hair and large piano key like teeth. At first it ran on two feet, but switched to a quadrupedal gallop.

From behind him, a soft feminine voice spoke. “David, what the hell are you doing?”

Turning quickly, he saw his wife standing across the room. Forgetting where he was for a moment, he waved her over. “Come here you gotta see this.”

She looked puzzled. “What’s wrong with you? You were supposed to come down and get the tools from the basement, but you started turning on lights and yelling. Do you want us to get caught?”

The reality of where he was returned. “What do those things want?”

Gloria looked puzzled. “What’s wrong with you? What do you think they want?” She asked rhetorically.

David was so excited that he had failed to keep his presence hidden. As he returned his gaze to the two well dressed monsters, he found that they were both staring directly at him. He ducked away from the window, but it was too late.

A loud screeching whistle rang out. The house began to shake violently as something rammed itself against the outside wall. David knew that it was probably more of the horned guerrillas being sent inside to get him.

Gloria ran for the stairs, but was snatched as a hairy arm burst through the window and ripped her out of the house. The window closest to David imploded and showered him with glass and wood splinters. Another hairy arm shot into the house, hands opening and closing desperately, searching for something to grab onto.

David crawled on his stomach towards the basement door. The beast began clawing and ripping away the window frame to accommodate its girth. David looked back and locked eyes with the monster. The face was covered in fur so thick that only two beady yellow eyes and the large mouth could be seen.

The creature roared as it continued to fight its way inside of the house.

David could hear Gloria screaming for help outside. Despite her identical appearance, he knew that she was not his wife. It still bothered him to see this mirrored version of his wife be torn away into the unknown. As he approached the basement door he saw a man dash down the hallway and into the basement. On his heels, David jumped to his feet and rushed down the stairs after him.

The entire time he had been in the world beyond the mirror, he had wondered where the other David was. As he stood at the bottom of the stairs he got his answer.

The other David stood with half of his body on the other side of the mirror. He looked back with sorrow in his eyes.

As he began to step completely through, David held out his hand. “Wait. Don’t leave me here.”

The other David stopped, staring sympathetically and said, “I’m sorry.”

David rushed towards the mirror. As the other David exited the world of monsters, he pushed the mirror to the ground and closed the doorway.

David slammed into the basement wall a second after the mirror disappeared. He pounded his fists against it, begging the mirror to return. He heard the heavy roar of the horned guerrillas as they entered the house upstairs. Having nowhere to hide, he ran up the stairs and slammed the door shut. From the other side of the door, one of the beasts rammed it.

David screamed, but there was no one there to help him.

The other David ran upstairs with a look of panic on his face. Bright sunlight beamed through the open windows. Gloria was startled by his sudden rush into the room.

“Oh my god. Did you see a ghost or something,” She laughed.

David wiped the sweat from his forehead. “It’s so bright out.”

Gloria looked puzzled. “Well yeah honey, it’s usually like this during the daytime.” She smiled as she placed photos into a box. “What happened to the wine? As soon as you mentioned it, I really wanted to have a glass.”

David looked back towards the basement door before returning to Gloria with a smile. “Right, totally forgot. I’ll be right back.”

–
Credits to: P.L. DuPeé (http://yourbeautifulnightmares.tumblr.com/)