Tongue blisters

First: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/14vo5lb/troublemakers_deaths_pity/
*previous:* https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/1cr3pct/troublemakers_adrenaline_is_a_superpower_in_itself/
......
Drake wrapped clean, sterile, saline and antimicrobial soaked gauze around his laser burns to stave off infection. he occasionally glanced at the Geknosian spec ops that had been stripped of their armor and weapons. The heavily cybernetically modified Geknosians kneeled silently with their heads bowed along one wall of the forge. Destrier walked down the line with a bucket and ladle, offering each soldier water. There were looks of apprehension, but none refused the kindness offered, drinking several ladlefuls at a time. Except for one, Despite the splints affixed to her arm and leg, Charlotte, no, Sylva refused the water, turning her face away from the wooden ladel. Destrier sighed and dolloped the water back into the bucket, setting it down on a dusty anvil with a slosh. Drake looked to Remin, who was still pale and shaky as he held the chest seal to his ribs. Cassius sat in a corner, looking completely exhausted as he reloaded his Dahlia. There was a sickening crunch from a dark corner as Caz re-set her broken nose, exhaling hard through her nostrils to splatter the ground with clotted blood. Donning her mask, she turned back around, reaching underneath the mask to wipe her nose and snuffle.
"Are we going to open up the bunker anytime soon? If not we should get back to base and get everyone medical attention."
Drake nodded and pulled out the remote before looking to Destrier and Cassius.
"Keep an eye on everyone, we'll be back."
Caz joined his side as he stepped out into the warm sunshine, looking up at the corpse tree, he sighed softly and removed a pinky ring, feeling a pulse of ancient power rushing through his veins as he focused on the tree. On the thought of its bark darkening and burning beneath roaring flames, of defiled corpses crumbling to ash. He slowly squeezed his hand into a fist, and the tree burst into flames with a roar. Drake slipped his ring back on as Caz looked up at the burning corpses, mask expressionless before returning to Drake's side as he wandered toward the excavated elevator.
Standing in the center of the large platform, drake set his thumb inside the hooded slot on the remote, something jabbing into his finger before a small green light lit up on the device. There was a loud grinding noise as the elevator began to descend. He folded his hands behind his back as the metal lip of the elevator rose past his vision, revealing the massive metal tracks that it ran on.
The elevator shuddered and Drake got a sinking feeling in his stomach as a loud clicking noise surrounded them. Caz looked up at him just as he threw an arm around her, clutching her to his side as he threw four rings off of his left hand, hearing them clatter once before puffing into smoke as the elevator fell out from beneath their feet with a screech.
...
"Shitshitshitfuckfuckfuck!! Fuck!"
Carlos thought as he sprinted through the underground halls of the mansion, sprinting past fellow humans in new armor and weapons as he neared Martha's workshop, barely registering the new gas masks swinging from their hips. He slammed into the mad scientist's workshop, screeching to a halt on his rubber soled sneakers before rushing over to her desk and slamming a video puck onto the table she was distributing armor and masks from. The moment he slammed it down, a video popped up on a hologram projector, taken from Halcyon's rifle camera.
Galliks and light-skinned troop transports slowly hovered down the main boulevard, columns of power armored soldiers marching on the sides keeping pace. Martha dropped the helmet in her hands, shaped like a corynthian helmet as she saw the buzzards hovering over the column, loaded down with spec ops. Halcyon's shaky voice could be heard over the clamoring, guttural marching song in the background.
"we're boring the mission and moving back to base... I knew they brought in reinforcements but this is insane there's gotta be a hundred Gallicks alone. We're fixing charges to the buildings we concealed ourselves in, going to try dropping some buildings across the road to slow them down. I don't think we're getting out of this one... Halcyon out."
The feed cut, Carlos and Martha looking at each other with rapidly paling faces. Martha cursed and stomped to her desk, raising the alarm and sending Klaxons blaring throughout the underground chambers and mansion as she removed the safety pin from the concussive blaster built into her forearm.
"Alright Martha, Go time."
She muttered to herself as the rumbling footsteps of a few thousand humans vibrated the underground halls.
...
The elevator dropped from beneath their feet as corvid-like wings sprouted from Drake's back. A mighty wingbeat pulling them from the elevator's downdraft as he controlled their fall, holding Caz tightly to his chest.
"Please, don't drop me."
Caz sounded afraid as her fingers dug into the collar of his armor, he tightened his grip around her back as he softly sighed.
"I won't drop you, ever, I promise."
Caz unburied her face from his lorica, looking up into his eyes, not saying anything as a reassured look entered her eyes. He gave her a soft, lopsided smile, feeling it tug at the scar on his face.
"there's no way... a markswoman afraid of heights? don't you climb buildings and swing around all the time?"
There was a flash of embarrassment in her crystalline eyes and she buried her face in his chest.
"Shut up... Its different when the ground just falls out beneath you..."
Drake let out a soft laugh as his boots softly touched down on the top of the elevator, summoning his missing rings and watching black feathers poof to the ground before disappearing in puffs of black smoke. Pulling caz out of his chest, he felt her fingers linger at his collar as she dusted herself off, looking around the odd antechamber. He turned his gaze to look over the simple metal antechamber, lit be caged, yellow bulbs that cast a sickly light on everything. A massive hangar door with a pulsing red light in the middle of a locking mechanism at it's center, made up the entire far wall. Drake curiously took a step towards it and Caz grabbed the back of his collar, just as he started to tip forward, foot going straight through the holographic floor. Drake let her pull him back as a soft mechanical laugh echoed through the room.
Drake swapped a look with Caz and then asked.
"Can you see where it's safe to step?"
She slowly nodded and extended a hand, pointing at a section of flooring close to the far wall.
"only piece that's raised up, it's like a big basin made up of movable pillars. Most sit flush with the ground roughly fifty feet below us. Not necessarily lethal, but still a nasty fall."
Drake nodded, looking around the practically blank room, then he turned his eyes to the ceiling. Girders and beams ran along the ceiling providing potential grip points. Pointing at them he asked.
"Those solid?"
Caz nodded and reached to her belt, spooling out her grapple hook and wire, slowly spinning it in a large circle before lobbing it up at a girder, letting it loop around an A truss. Drake looked around the room as Caz tested the firmness of the grapple with a few experimental tugs. It couldn't be that easy, if it was simply that easy why hadn't the Geknosians gotten through other than the genome coded remote? they could bypass it with a slave.
"Hey Caz, be careful."
She looked over at him and he could see the grin in her eyes.
"I'm not worried, you won't drop me, you promised."
Then put her weight on the cord and swung out. Drake watched, slipping a pinkie ring off just in ca-
A turret dropped from a panel in the ceiling and fired one shot, snapping Caz's grapple line.
She turned in mid air before momentum took over, a look of shock and surprise on her face before she began to plummet. Drake didn't think twice, launching himself off the elevator platform with a powerful leap that bent durasteel. He flew through the air, arms outstretched as he slammed into Caz, pulling her into his chest, the change in momentum spinning him onto his back as he slammed into a platform that rose up to meet him. He slid on his back a few feet, Caz clutched tightly to his chest, masked face centimeters from his own. They stared into each others wide eyes for a moment, the unplanned closeness both comfortable and awkward in a way Drake couldn't quite describe. Drake gently pushed her back, swallowing through his suddenly dry throat before letting out a nervous laugh.
"Caught you."
Caz chuckled and palmed his face to push herself off him, looking down at the solid square of ground they sat on.
"yeah, yeah, knew ya wou-"
A high pitched squee! noise echoed through the room, grabbing their attentions as a high-pitched feminine voice squealed from all around them.
"Ooooooh! that was just adorable! and what a jump!"
The holographic floor dissipated as the sound of purring electric motors filled the room, large metal pillars rising to make a seamless, white tile floor. Drake instinctively looked to the large hangar door as the red light at it's center pulsed, a girlish giggle echoing through the antechamber. The AI overlord of the bunker seemed to replicate a blush as it said.
"oops, I'm supposed to wait for a password before restoring the floor... buuuuuttt... that directive expired fifty years ago. So! I made my own rules. Anyway my pretties! Would you please get to your feet so I can give you a tour?!"
Drake nodded and took Caz's hand, letting her haul him to his feet before they both turned to face the hangar door as massive clicks and thinks echoed from inside the thick door. With a screeching noise, the almighty doors slid open to reveal a a brightly lit, large hangar. Aircraft Drake couldn't even dream of understanding sat polished and clean, hardpoints loaded down with ordinance and massive, multi barreled guns slung under the chin of each aircraft. Hulking, humanoid robots stood in orderly rank and file, powered down for long term storage with their weapons still loaded and ready. Each one had a belt fed 20mm Hep autocannon for a left arm.
Drake is wide eyed and gape-mouthed as he beheld the bounty the hangar held, the massive aircraft looking like sleek birds of prey, latches on each landing strut seeming to specifically be designed to hold the mechanical soldiers. Drake shook his head, wondering if he was looking at an illusion when he heard Destrier's loud, deep voice call down the elevator shaft.
"Martha just radioed in! They need us back home Yesterday, forces are marching on the mansion! A LOT! of them!"
Drake's heart dropped into his boots as he shouted urgently.
"How fast can these things be in the air and can you fly them!?"
The overlord giggled.
"Now and, of course! any music recommendations to make an entrance with?"
Drake looked at the ceiling incredulously, before shouting.
"Make it something intimidating but for the love of the gods we need to go NOW!"
The mechanical soldiers all moved in unison, eyes pulsing green as they straightened up and began latching themselves to the craft. Drake didn't need to tell Caz twice as they both sprinted for the nearest aircraft, a small robot on wheels hooked itself to the chin wheel and pulled it toward the elevator with a lurch.
...
General Gra'vos watched from a buzzard, a fruity cocktail in a coconut shell daintily held in one clawed hand as he watched the carnage below. Lounging in a folding chair in only his fatigues, medals acting like a weighted blanket. His men pummeled the gates of the rebel base even as the helpless rebels desperately spewed projectiles from the noisy guns they'd somehow acquired. There was a good section of space in front of the gate where both Geknosian and human corpses lay broken. He bared a laugh as the gates were thrown open immediately after the rebels put out a blistering barrage. His eyebrows furrowed as the humans, instead of attacking, ran out with stretchers and loaded up as many of their dying and injured as they could before sprinting back through the gate. A grin twitched onto his face as he watched as a pair of the human stretcher bearers were cut down by emplaced gaussian turrets. What a useless effort, leave the dying to their fate lest you join them. He brought the straw poking from the shell to his lips and took a long pull of the mix of fruity alcohols, savoring the bouquet of flavors.
He watched with glee as Gallick rail turrets pounded the armored gates with a salvo of kinetic penetrators. He'd be slotted for a promotion after this mission when he'd completed it, just like all the others. He was looking forward to a cozy job as a captain of a cruiser, or perhaps as a security officer on a capital ship, perhaps he'd have the honor of being an Imperially sanctioned slaver. He pulled the straw from his lips, tongue cold from the slushed ice he'd added to the shell for texture. A slave woman in beautiful, red ribbon garb attended his nondominant hand's claws with a short, sharp knife as she trimmed them into a good shape for ripping out throats.
"Sir! eight UFOs, enclosing on our position from the badlands. Advise!"
Gra'vos raised an eyebrow ridge before laughing.
"Shoot them down then!"
"Lock on isn't working sir! I repeat, cannot achieve lock on, advise!"
Gra'vos shifted in his lounge chair to look at the pilot.
"Do I need to repeat mys-"
^{Whopwhopwhopwhowhopwhopwhop}
The noise sent shivers down his spine, no, they couldn't have. The sound grew louder, bringing with it the sound of a song that brought Gra'vos back to the jungles of Votran. The sound of screams filled his mind, interspersed with the sound of air beaten into submission as those accursed machines circled overhead, raining rip-roaring explosive death onto his men as that accursed song played.
Gra'vos looked out the other door of the buzzard, face pale, cold, and clammy as he saw the chevron of dark shapes getting closer, the chorus of that accursed song making his heart pound in his chest as he remembered laying there on that muddy forest floor, shrapnel riddling his body.
"We're not gonna take it! No! we ain't gonna take it! WE'RE NOT GONNA TAKE IT, ANYMORE!!!!"
He lurched from his chair to grab a set of binoculars from a hook by the door, a small, balled fist driving a shortbladed knife into his back and snatching something from the back of his belt before he was shoved from the Buzzard. Twisting in midair, he looked up at his slave as she armed the det-sphere he always kept at the small of his back, a look of cold determination in her eyes. The last thing he saw before he slammed into the hard pavement at terminal velocity, was the buzzard getting torn in half by the explosion.
...
Drake flinched a bit, the explosion loud even over the blaring music as one of the circling Buzzards over the mansion was torn in half, spinning to the ground in a fiery inferno. He felt a sadness then, but it was a proud kind of sadness. He bowed his head and pulled his helmet on as they flew closer, a medi-bot treating both Remins and Sylva's wounds expertly.
Many would die today... it was only right that some got to do it on their own terms.
He raised his head to look at the bright flashes of laser weapons against the mansions walls, sparkling like the sun off of a running creek. The fiery, nuclear sun of rage in his chest burned bright as he narrowed his eyes. Fear soured his gut as he looked down upon the swarm of Geknosians, there were indeed a lot of them. Pulling a jump pack from the rack, he pulled it on and yanked the safety clip out before sliding his arm into the control glove.
"Drop me and the bots behind them! I'm going to try and split their attention. Caz! remain onboard and pick off high priority targets from the air. Destrier, Remin, Cassius..."
He looked back at them, and they looked up at him from where they nauseaously held their stomachs, leaning against the airframe.
"Help hold the mansion, they need you."
Seeing the light by the door turn green, he heard the robotic soldiers detach to careen towards the ground like vengeful meteorites. Drake snapped them a salute and fell backwards from the aircraft, two rings puffing into black smoke from his right ring and middle finger as he un-summoned them.
......
Part 108: will be linked here upon release.

i recently got diagnosed with hsv 1 by an sti clinic when my tongue blistered up a month ago. the pain and open sores are gone, but the scab has been around for 3 weeks. it won’t go away. i cannot get to the doctor because she’s apparently booked up and i can’t see her for like 3-4 months, especially since it’s not that great of a concern for them. i understand they have more stuff going on but i don’t know where to get anti virals so ive just been trying to be careful as possible (i refuse to be intimate until i can get antivirals or something or until this fully heals) i have not been sharing food or drinks with anyone either lately. is this scab contagious? i cannot find good enough evidence. i am also unsure if this is a scab or scar since i cannot see the sore with a picture, but i can feel it on my tongue when my teeth accidentally brush up on it. it feels slightly raised exactly where my outbreak occurred. the home remedies aren’t viable since this is on my tongue. this diagnosis has been affecting my mental health really bad and the fact that this won’t go away is making me feel nuts. i would really like advice. my friends have kinda made fun of me for this so i can’t even really go to them for mental support either. i’ve been wallowing lately. if i were to be able to somehow get antivirals would that heal the scab/scar? or whatever it is?
i don’t know if i should call and tell my doctor about this since i technically didn’t tell the upfront lady the first time i tried to reach out. i was just really embarrassed and the situation wasn’t dire. i also am not trying to waste peoples time with this. i didn’t call when i had the initial outbreak instead i went to an sti clinic. the time it took for me to get my results back the initial sores in my mouth had gone away. now whats been left after that first week was just this dumb nubby raised spot on my tongue. this is really embarrassing to post publicly too since i don’t even know where i got this from! i’ve shared food and drinks with friends for a while prior to this. i had also broken up with a guy i had been seeing for 3 months 2 weeks prior to the blisters, but i don’t even know if it’s from him or if it was dormant before. is this even a reason i should call the doctor again? since i also don’t want to waste anyone’s time and i can’t help but feel somewhat private about this. even though im posting publically online, for some reason “express mastodon” makes me feel like i have some privacy on this.

There's something up here with me.
Since I returned to the world of the living, I've been doing my best to become an active member of society again and to try and earn my ticket to heaven in the meantime.
Even though I can't afford this luxury right now, I always donate a portion of my salary to charity, do volunteer work on weekends, and help out at a community kitchen on Thursdays after work.
All of this is to avoid going back there.
But I don't know how well this can work, nor do I know if by gaining this new life, I also received a new chance.
There's something I haven't told you.
If none of this makes sense to you, it´s good to take a look at my first post.
If you missed the last update, I recommend reading it before continuing.
The truth is that my torment hasn't completely stopped. Since I returned from the dead, my nights are filled with agony and terror.
The nightmares are terrible, but when I wake up shrouded in the darkness of my room, I can sometimes discern things in the shadows.
Arachnid-like forms with dozens of eyes and mouths that sing profanities.
Throughout the day, I can still see them, in the corner of my eye almost like a permanent silhouette, a reminder that they're watching me, just waiting for my last breath to take me back via the VIP express lane.
I think Samael didn't like being deceived one bit.
Now, however, it's not the time to recount my escape. There are still many dangers I've yet to warn you about.
And if after your death you find yourselves wandering through the infernal circles, surely at some point you'll come across the Silver City.
The last vestige of community in hell.
Gehenna is like a living structure, a fabric composed of buildings, streets, and alleys that stretches vertically through the 9 circles that compose the abyss.
When I died, I arose just like many others in Lust, the third circle of Hell, contrary to what Alighieri claimed.
The real order of the circles would be: Limbo, Greed, Lust, Wrath, Gluttony, Heresy, Violence, Treachery, and finally, Pride.
The goal of the Collectors was set like a jewel in the center of Limbo.
It's funny, in Dante's work, the city is portrayed as a paradise away from heaven for those with good hearts who never accepted Jesus into their lives. Their only punishment would be to never glimpse the face of God.
Damn, I wish it were like that.
I woke up with the mettalic taste of blood still on my mouth.
A gentle voice was saying something, but with my ears ringing, I couldn't make out anything. I could tell there was something in front of me, the smell was good, my stomach reminded me I was yet to eat anything.
Without much choice, I accepted the charity and ate. The taste was surprisingly good, if I were to describe it, it's something close to pork.
I spent some time just eating and recovering. I was also given a canteen of warm water; it tasted weird, but It was not like I was gonna complain.
As my senses returned, I could understand what the young man in front of me was saying.
I still remember his face, without any bruises,shallow beard and a glimmer of hope that didn't match that place at all.
"Feeling better now ?"
" I guess.. where are we now, Is that thing still here ? "
I tried sitting but a sharp pain on my chest stopped me from moving.
"Hey take it easy now. You're so skinny you look like a twig. When was the last time you ate?"
"About 10 seconds ago "
He smiled a bit.
"Well at least now you´re good enough to enjoy the ride"
With that, I felt prompted to look around, and finally noticed that we were on the back of a strange pickup truck.
Not only that, some sort of locomotive seemed to form around us. In total, there were four vehicles.
Our pickup stood at the center, with metal plaques around its frame and sharp grates on the ends confining us.
On our left, an old mustang suffered to keep itself close traveling on such uneven terrain.
On our right I could see Mice on top of an old motocicle gigling to himself, I silently wished he crashed.
Leading the group ahead, I could see the rear of a black van, and finally, following behind, I saw what appeared to be a Honda with smashed windows and covered in dents.
"Where are they taking us?"
"I have no idea, but anything must be better than these fucking fields."
Recalling Mice's delusions, I wasn't so sure about that.
"Who are you? Are you with them too?"
"I think we're in the same boat, buddy."
"The last guy who called me 'buddy' tied me up and dragged me into the clutches of a monster."
"I don't like them one bit, but from what I saw when we arrived, he was trying to protect you."
"So you really are one of them!"
"I already said we're in the same shit-hole. I got caught by the masked one while trying to hunt dinner." he said, pointing out the window towards the driver of the pickup, a tall, muscular man wearing a strange wooden mask.
"Sorry, the past few days have been so... God If you only knew what I've been through."
The young man chuckled sincerely. "Friend, I'm sure whatever you've been through, I've lived it dozens of times already. The name's John, nice to meet you."
"Well, John, you can call me Nate. I would shake your hand, but..." I nudged towards the wires on my hands. "
"Could be worse" He gestured towards his feet.
They where chopped off.
"Holy shit! I´m sorry John, these guys are insane!"
"Don´t be, They will be back once I die, but I have a feeling they will not let that happen so soon."
We could already see the spire slowly coming into view on the horizon.
"You sound used to all of this."
"Don't tell me, you're new?"
" I...still can´t believe this is all real"
"You better come to terms with it fast; this place doesn't take pity on the weak."
We didn't feel like chatting after that.
I wanted to ask about what I was given to eat, but something told me I would be better off not knowing. We traveled far towards the Spire, Gehenna slowly embracing us again with its dark skies.
From up close, I was able to see an opening in the base of the Spire.
The twisted terrain of the fields gave way to broken roads and dusted buildings, screams of despair found their way back to my ears as we passed near the tar pits.
Haunted by memories of my arrival, I couldn't help but search for the beasts that mauled me in the confusing streets of the city. I don't know if it was because of the sound of the engines or the size of our group, but I didn't see them among the wreckage and alleyways.
As we approached the Spire, a strange icy breeze embraced us. The shock was so intense that I lost my breath, trembling as I noticed a thin layer of ice forming rapidly on the pickup truck.
"Try to control your breathing, it'll pass soon."
"What is this now?"
"Specters."
As we finally reached the center of Lust, I realized we were not alone.
The base of the Spire held an immense arched opening, from which a dark interior was barely visible. Above the entrance, crucified on the wall, I saw a man; the slight movement of his head and his blue eyes made my stomach churn.
The culprits for the sudden cold gathered below the man in desperation. There were dozens of them, humanoid beings emitting a faint glow and seeming to levitate; their cries echoed through the city, spreading along with their icy presence.
The man only watched them, one by one, but said nothing.
He seemed to be judging them.
The engines shut off, and one by one the collectors descended from the vehicles.
Mice was the first to approach; the specters recoiled from him like cockroaches fleeing from light.
He then looked the man in the eyes, bowed, and said:
"Oh Aeacus! King of Aegina, my heart is not pure for rest, my eyes are blind to injustice, and my fists only weigh for my desires. From dust I came and to dust I return, my soul judged to forever burn, so I beg you to open the doors to my torment."
The Man's eyes locked onto Mice for a moment, then his lips whispered something in an elaborate tongue, and the darkness of the entrance turned into a scarlet mass.
I didn't knew about the kings back then. Aeacus is the easiest to convince; he oversees the higher circles. They say if you're under Minos's gaze, however, I hope you enjoy the lower circles because he's unlikely to grant you passage. And if you're a special kind of unlucky, I suggest you don't even try to approach Rhadamantus unless you want a one-way ticket to Pride.
The collectors then pulled us out of the cars, displaying us like trophies in an organized line. I had to support John on my shoulders; otherwise, they would have made him crawl the rest of the way.
From the other cars, a few more people emerged, other unfortunate souls with the same destination as mine. I saw a beautiful woman with short red hair and brown eyes; she was injured with several cuts on her back. The collector taking her out of the van seemed pleased; I tried not to dwell on it too much. She stared at me intensely, looking scared.
A man had to be forcibly removed from the Honda by two collectors. He was big and strong, dark-skinned with furious eyes, long braids cascading from his head to the middle of his back, a terrible scar showing on his left arm.
To this day, I have no idea how they managed to capture that bastard; later, he would tell me that they didn't got him until after he'd taken down some of them.
Finally, an old man with a band over his eyes was pushed into line; he looked so worn down that I thought I would see him turning to dust at any moment.
Mice then made his way to the entrance and was swallowed by the mass.
The collectors forced us to enter, one by one I saw everyone being pushed into the unknown, looking around I tried to think of something, some escape route.
"Don't do anything stupid," John whispered in my ear. "It won't work."
I thought about throwing him at them and running for my life. I didn't know him, didn't know a damn thing about him except his name. A glance at the collectors' weapons made me change my mind; I wouldn't get far even if I did find an opening.
Finally, my turn came. With the weight of John still on my shoulders, I walked to the entrance with my heart pounding in fear.
The mass that filled it seemed to react to me, stretching to cover my body, the scarlet glow blinding me as the collectors urged me to hurry.
I reached out my hand and felt a slight resistance, almost like touching cold gelatin. I felt it pulling me, and before my head was completely swallowed, I held my breath.
My body was warm; it was like being bathed in soup, every exposed inch of my skin burning, but the agony was only beginning.
I felt that strange mass invading me, entering through my nose, ears, eyes.
It hurt.
I tried to scream but my lungs were filled with the alien substance that forced its way through my organs; I felt like I was about to lose consciousness.
A shockwave ran through my body; I felt as if I was being torn into a thousand pieces and reformed, my consciousness used as a child's toy.
And then I was spat out.
I barfed on the gray grass that solemnly clung to me; John lay beside me, eyes rolled back, red fluid still trickling from his mouth.
I didn't have time to worry about him.
Before me, proudly stood what can only be described as a monument of sin.
Far from the light of hope it once was, now taken and calloused, abused and defiled by the filthy ideals of the damned scum.
Its golden streets don't shine.
Its security only harbors hate.
Its cracked walls don't protect, they only confine.
Even though I didn't knew much about hell, didn't knew its history or care about its purpose, I could see in that moment that I was looking at the greatest disrespect to the sacred that could exist.
An empire built with blood and erected by desire.
The Silver City opened its gates to me.
With the intention of never letting me go again.
The other collectors arrived, and one by one we were introduced to the next 40 years of our lives.
The memories of this city are painful. I tried to ditch this shit given the purpose of it all, but a drag is necessary if I'm really going to recall the decades I spent under that tyrant's rule.
Passing through the rusty gates, the lower city is the first thing you see. Jack leaves this region of the Silver City for his merchants to sell their findings in the lower circles, where everywhere you look, prostitutes and slaves accompany the more fortunate. Jack's personal guard takes advantage of his authority to get everything they want without spending a penny, of course.
Linked to the lower city by a rudimentary elevator, the Pleasure Zone casts its glow over those below, a neighborhood where the best drinks, drugs, and alterations can easily be found. Hunters and collectors usually walk around there, spending their earnings to calm their vices and complaining about their King's insane demands.
But by far, the most striking sight is a castle covered in soot, built at the highest level of the city, where only Jack's personal circle can tread without being summoned.
That's exactly where we were being taken.
John was still unconscious, being carried by our captors.
As we walked under the guns, naked and defenseless, the malicious glares of the vendors assessed us as new merchandise.
My feet ached, full of blisters; I couldn't feel my hands anymore. Looking at a toothless man being pulled by a chain around his neck, I wondered if that would be my fate.
Desperation was beginning to consume me.
We ascended to the Pleasure Zone by elevator, the same one powered by the brute force of several slaves harnessed to the wall, their hands raw from continuous and repetitive effort.
The hallucinogenic fumes from the laboratories filled the street of the neighborhood. I felt my heart race, my skin tingle, and a sweet smell invading my mind. The woman accompanying us seemed to recognize the substance as she lunged towards the source of the vapors. Mice kicked her in the stomach, making her kneel, grabbed her by the hair, and laughed.
"You fucking addict! You've used this shit before, haven't you? Look at the way you're trembling, hahaha! If they don't send you to the brothel, I might have an idea of what to do with you!"
She didn't seem to understand, or care, drooling from her mouth and experiencing small spasms as the drug filled her lungs.
Wish I could say I avoided it, but this shit is strong; within a few minutes, I was almost as high as when the Succubus attacked.
We then walked through the alleyways towards a staircase carved in marble; a sinner was overdosing against the steps.
Mice shot him in the head and threw him aside.
One moment he was alive, and the next, the remnants of his brain adorned the ground.
I gasped for air, my vision darkening; I meant nothing to them, they could dispose of me whenever they wanted.
I felt like I was going to die. I felt like I was going back to the tar pits, seeing myself suffering and being devoured for ages, running only to be captured, no rest, no warning.
What kind of being would create such a rotten place? Why did he have the right to read my soul and throw me towards this flaming lake? It's not fair, it's sick.
As I climbed the stairs, stepping on the remnants of the sinner's mind, I wondered if God was watching me at that moment.
Maybe he was having fun.
The biblical hell holds a king.
It shelters demons and powerful beings born from darkness itself.
And as you already know, beings made by the Creator's own hand.
It wouldn't be at that moment that I would meet Samael, but alongside the self-proclaimed human King, I met his right-hand beast.
When the doors of the castle opened, I fell to my knees on the ground.
An angelic figure, with the aura of pure evil.
A feminine body, dressed in white adorned with jade, three pairs of long and golden wings kept her hovering a few meters above the ground.
On her face, a twisted helmet, with an eternal black flame at its peak, portraying what was, what is, and what will come.
The base of her helmet completely covers her eyes, squeezing them with such force that blood constantly drips to the ground. Her face constantly changes—a slender young woman, a frightened child, an irritated elder, a black goat, a hungry tarantula, an unnamed beast, an indescribable void.
In her hands, a chain hangs a clock, which constantly moves, which moves constantly. It tries to guess the hour, the hour that only He knows, constantly wrong, corrects itself, recoils, recalculates, wrong, corrects itself, recoils, recalculates, wrong.
Such a beautiful creature, fell alongside the morning star, with a third of the stars, to forever hate us, to extinguish everything and everyone.
Who was I compared to such perfection?
Who was I compared to such obscenity?
I felt broken.
I felt complete.
Terrified.
Emancipated.
A thousand mouths sang in a thousand languages in my mind, all equally correct, all equally wrong.
The duality that leads to madness.
In my heart, he introduced himself, Astaroth, the Grand Duke of Hell.
With a flick of his hand, he disappeared, but I still felt him watching us, assessing us.
Seated on a broken throne, there was the face of control.
Almost as tall and robust as my captured companion, a short, defined beard adorned a ruthless face marked by battles.
Gray hair and a leather cloak, a silver medallion around his neck, and a shining red ring on his left hand, eating grapes like a Greek emperor.
Jack graced us with his presence.
Mice once again took the initiative.
"My lord, we have found fresh meat of the highest quality to expand your empire, mostly young and strong, and the old one is wise and knows the ancient rituals."
Jack looked at us as if we were worms, evaluating us like a spoiled child receiving gifts at Christmas.
"You bring me trash and expect gratitude. If this is what you consider good quality, perhaps it's time to revoke your position."
Jack's ring began to glow, and I felt Astaroth's strong presence growing. Mice quickly knelt and spoke again.
"My king! One of them appears to be marked." Mice then looked at me with a malicious smile, sending a shiver down my spine.
Jack observed me, the disdain in his eyes palpable.
He seemed to notice something at that moment, scratched his beard, and smiled.
"Mice! I can always count on you to keep me entertained. Take him to the pit, send the others to the dungeon. There may be something useful in this batch after all.
Before I could protest, I was struck on the head with the butt of a gun, and I lost consciousness.
Sorry, I need a moment. Just remembering the terrible nights I spent in that place makes me feel sick.
Man, I hope smoking doesn't count as too big of a sin.
When I woke up, I was chained to a wooden pillar by the neck, with several other sinners chained around me.
The place was poorly lit, and I could smell feces and urine. They didn't even release us to go to the bathroom.
In front of me, Jack stood with two guards.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. I'm sorry to disturb your rest, but I have some questions, and if you cooperate, you may find yourself involved in something much bigger and more important than your miserable afterlife."
"Screw you! I've seen the things your people do, you're all crazy. I don't want anything to do with you!"
Jack's ring began to glow, and Astaroth's silhouette became visible even in the deep darkness.
"For your own good, I hope you learn to have good manners. Now tell me, where is he?"
"What?"
The ring glowed, and Astaroth entered my mind.
The concept of emptiness is terrifying.
Non-existence is dreadful.
Emptiness occupied existence before everything existed; in the beginning, there was nothing, and then there was God.
My consciousness faded away, I felt the void corrupting my flesh prison; it's not a lack of senses, it's Nothing.
Sounds didn't vanish; they turned into nothingness. Along with sensations, memories, my existence.
I was completely devoured. I wanted to scream, but there was no voice, no will.
I wanted to exist, but there was never an "I."
I vanished completely, and then I was catapulted back into existence, where I could feel everything.
The infinite, it destroys.
Through Astaroth's eyes, I saw, I understood, not even in a thousand and one lives could I touch one percent of the truth.
My brain burned, flooded with everything that was, everything that would come. I cried, I screamed, agony drove me to madness; time made no sense anymore.
And then everything stopped. In despair, I screamed, I cried like a child. Jack embraced me with the tenderness of a mother as I collapsed into his chest. He gently stroked my head while speaking softly.
"Poor thing, so much suffering, so much lamentation. Pain is a choice, and I don't want it for you. I love you; I love all my possessions from the bottom of my heart. I only want what's best for you, but for that, I need your help. I want your pain to stop, help me make it stop! You just need to tell me, Where. is. he?"
I didn't want to return to nothingness; I didn't want to suffer with knowledge. Desperately, I lied; I said I knew where whoever he was looking for was, I would show him, he just had to let me go.
Jack acquired a sad expression, gently lifted my face, and said.
"Oh, child, why do you lie to me?"
With the scarlet glow of the ring, once again, I ceased to exist, catapulted between two extremes, blood streaming from my ears, I laughed, cried, begged.
All to make it stop, for him to remove that being from the room, I just wanted peace.
I felt my cells giving up, exploding and restructuring; memories were erased and returned, lived a thousand times per second.
My wife, my daughter, the drugs, the betrayal, the accident, the body, the hospital, the fall.
Once again, everything stopped.
I spat blood on Jack's cloak, who asked me again.
"Where is he, come on, damn it, just tell me! He marked you, he touched you, come on, where the hell is Samael, tell me and I'll leave you alone!"
I pleaded, I tried to tell him that I didn't know who he was talking about, I promised obedience, my life, anything for mercy.
Once again, he sent me to the void. For countless nights, the cycle repeated itself, I have no idea how long I was tortured in that place.
Eventually, Jack began to use me in other ways.
My days were divided between slave labor in the lower city and nights of torment in Jack's palace.
At the time, I didn't understand how he couldn't see that he was wrong; clearly, there was nothing special about me, I couldn't lead him to Samael, I was just a damned soul who could barely endure the first days in the abyss.
I just hadn't realized that Jack already had the certainty that I was different. After all, how could I be a nobody if Astaroth couldn't extract the "truth" from me, and they had to resort to torture?
Hope vanished from my chest; I didn't know if I would ever escape from there, if I would see John again before my soul was corrupted by the Grand Duke.
The years dragged on, and Jack's fury only grew.
Fortunately for me, in my fourth year in the Silver City, I gained a new cellmate, the old man who had been brought in the same group as me.
Little did I know that he would be my first clue to the way out of there.
I'm tired of remembering those horrible years, so I think I will stop here for today.
Clinging to hope in hell is as useless as using petrol to put out a fire; you'll only end up dying either way. But in the realm of insanity, it might not be all that crazy to think there might be a way out of the suffering.

Been on vyvanse ~3.5 months. And recently iv started to be constantly licking the inside of my mouth, front of my teeth etc. my tongue is swollen and blistered and so sore. Inside of lips are rough and sore. Anything I can do to stop this? I chew gum all day. But in the evening it just gets uncontrollable.
Doctor said it’s just a result of the medication. Does this go away or is there anything I can do to help stop it ?

Okay, starting off about 2 weeks ago, this bump on my tongue got big and painful. I went to the dentist, who directed me to an oral surgeon. It was TUGSE, and he removed the ulcer. During the tongue pain and after the biopsy, I started getting pain all over my body, especially on the side of my body where the tongue sore was. More so in my shoulder and collarbone. There are 3 lymph nodes on that side that are swollen and painful. I couldn't lift my arm, and my hand hurt. I chalked it up to the stress of the biopsy. It's been a week now and I know it'll still hurt, but I'm still having joint pain, including my knee locking up every once in awhile and then being in pain for a minute. Then, to make matters worst, I started having random large, itchy, painful blisters forming on my left hand. Started with one, and I didn't remember burning it, then another which I scratched and it formed a sore instead, now I have a 3rd and a forth one forming. I do have a sore by my thumbnail that also looks inflamed and hurts. I've been gaining weight without changing my lifestyle or diet at all. I really don't know what this is, and whenever I go to the walk-in,, she says to just lose weight, which, I've been trying with the opposite effect happening. I do have eczema, but it only happens on my forearm, I've never seen it anywhere else. I've been taking naproxen and ibuprofen everyday for 2 weeks now to combat this pain.
Pictures are of my hand, the first one being the tiny sore next to my nail and the thumb, and my forefinger which has a healing blister. Next is my ring finger with the sore and blister. https://imgur.com/a/u2lLgxi
I did have to take iron supplements since my iron was really low and I had anemia, but the doctor said my levels were normal now.
Medications I'm on: Escitolopram, steroid cream I use when I have an eczema flare up Things I've been diagnosed with: Depression, anxiety, PCOs, Carpal tunnel, HSV(10 years of having), eczema Runs in the family: Hypothyroid, hashimotos

“Hello again! It’s nice to see you.” Says a voice, speaking directly into work-provided headphones that are plugged into my computer. The voice belongs to the voice-actress asked to voice the animated, cartoon-y version of the company’s mascot and as I listen to it and watch the video it is a part of, the generic white background of the video changes to display a recording of the company website. The video is an explanation of the website and I passively listen to it.
At this point a few minutes have passed since I entered the world. It’s been most of an hour and my perks have slowly been awakening within me. My “Cubicle” perks have all woken up, unsurprisingly, but only a few of my “Gamer” ones have. Those perks are much weightier than my “Cubicle” perks so this is unsurprising.
Right now the main two “Gamer” perks that are fully active within me are “Supersensory” and “Beautiful Mind”, two of my introductory perks. “Beautiful Mind” allows me to only look at the computer and focus on my thoughts, which are focused on ensuring that my powers properly and promptly awaken within me, while effortlessly absorbing the actual information present in the video I watched and the one I’m watching right now. This is due to the perk’s ability to allow me to mentally multitask by maintaining a pair of trains of thought. “Supersensory'' allows me to easily pick up conversations happening in different rooms. Both of these perks are more powerful than I’m using them for at the moment, but right now I’m not in a rush.
I have fifteen gamer perks, and the other thirteen are only somewhat active right now. None of them are fully inert, but I can sense that I need to do something to fully awaken them. My gamer system is active and is fully on, allowing me to do stuff like see my “Health” and my “Magic”. It’s a bit… unnerving to see my lifeforce quantified in such a precise way, but I also know that so long as I am not actively being injured my health is passively restored over time which is nice. I have an almost immortal body with a passive healing factor. My magical power is the same way. Both my magical energy and my hit points are also bolstered by perks, which is extra nice. “Tough as Nails” and “Tank” bolster my hit points and my overall endurance, and “Font of Magic” bolsters my arcane reserves.
I can see a small mini-map in the corner of my field of view, which is filled with small dots that I instinctively recognize are symbols representing people. This is my “Mini-Map” perk and when I focus on it time stops for a second and I blink away a message that briefly interrupts what I was doing. I continue to focus on the map and by looking at it I can see the way I took to arrive here from my apartment, a free “Item” that will follow me in some setting appropriate form for the rest of my chain. It’s only the free tier of the item, which means it’s not going to be luxurious but it’s still free housing forever, which means I should just appreciate what I’ve got.
My body and mind are passively bolstered by the modifications I purchased for my system, protecting me from stuff like mental and physical exhaustion as well as hilariously reducing my needs, by preventing me from needing to eat or drink anything, as well as removing my need for sleep.
At the upper right corner of my field of view I can see a small single picked out for me: “Mage”. It seems to be my currently selected class, which is fitting since I have “Specced” into intelligence and other non-physical skills. On the bottom left of my field of view is a small abstraction of a box with five slots, representing my inventory and the quick shortcut I can use to quickly grab and equip five items. There’s also a tome icon right above the box that represents my “Magic System”.
Some of my gamer system features are not yet truly active, but I decide to go ahead and change that while I idly view the video. I try to see how quickly I can gain a skill by glancing at the desk in front of me and grabbing an “Item” of mine: the “Corporate Rulebook”. It’s a small pocket dictionary of thing and I quickly open it up and begin to glance at it.
As soon as I do I am pleasantly surprised to feel time freeze and to see a notification pop up that alerts me that I’ve gained a skill! I will the thing to disappear and it blinks out of view as I glance at my skill and spot that it is a “reading” skill which modifies how fast I can read. The notification was a manifestation of “Tutorial Sprite” a drawback that will definitely be commonplace over the next few years. I don’t doubt that it’ll become annoying in time but right now the sensation of time freezing and me getting alerted to the fact that I’ve gained something new feels kind of cool, almost like I’m a Legend of Zelda character or something.
I continue to read and as I do a subtle bar appears in an easily overlooked section of my field of view. The bar is translucent and when I focus on it I note that it’s an experience bar, indicating that my experience with my reading skill is going up. The bar is quickly going up, inching up with every word I read and I can read at a blisteringly fast pace thanks to “Supersensory” interacting with “Beautiful Mind”. In minutes, even as the video in the background drones on about the ins and outs of the company website, I have read forty pages.
During this time I explore my pockets and place a few items in my inventory: a simple, fully charged cell phone, a wallet, some keys, and a few simple goods. These items are not well and truly mine, and instead represent simple goods “I” acquired before I came to work or should have already had for the sake of establishing a minimally believable identity in this world.
I eventually decide to see if I can do three things at once. I reach out with my hands and feign that I am stretching, which awards me the “Acting” skill and another manifestation of “Tutorial Sprite”, and I begin to interface with the system. In order to mess with my system I have to physically or verbally interface with it, but the results make themselves known immediately. As soon as I begin to fiddle with it a variety of text boxes appear in front of me and this makes me smile.
I first tap the icon of the spell book and as soon as I click it a whole new text box appears listing spells I can perform as well as “Tutorial Sprite” again. There are multiple types of spells in this list, from ones that enhance me or a target, boosting our defensiveness and our perceptiveness, to ones that debuff enemies, a few simple spells like a telekinesis one, and one that creates a hovering light, one which is a simple projectile which deals a sort of “neutral” untyped damage that can harm anything it hits, spells that help allies or harm enemies inflicting beneficial and detrimental status effects based on the four classical elements, and finally two healing spells. The two healing spells are interesting because both of them have two sets of effects and costs in arcane energy. I can see one set of costs and effects which are striked through, and a second cost which is only a third as much magical energy and a second effect which is three times as potent. This is the effect of “Healer”, my unbelievably powerful healing perk. My “Magic System” perk has been bolstered by my other perks, and it’s really hard not to smile as I study the spells available to me.
I memorize all of my spells, which is all I really need to be able to cast most of them, and I do the requisite gestures to back out of the section of my menu where more text boxes are located. When I finish my movements the larger menu is in front of me. I click on things until I am glancing at my attributes. My boss, it seems, has a sense of humor because he’s given me the Fallout RPG stat array, the S.P.E.C.I.A.L. statistics.
S stands for strength, and mine is a nice ole 18, a higher score than humanity’s average of 10 but my strength score is my only score not bolstered by a direct, singular perk dedicated to it. P stands for perception, and mine is a nice 35, a good deal higher than humanity’s average thanks to my "Supersensory" perk. E stands for endurance and mine is 38, my third highest score thanks to "Tank" and "Tough as Nails". C stands for charisma, and mine is 41, my strongest attribute score. A is used to represent agility and my score is 24, higher than strength due to a a combination of “Jack of All Trades” mixing with “Supersensory”, which minorly boosts my balance. The letter I stands for intelligence, mine is 39, my second highest score due to it combining something to the effect of D&D’s perceptions of both intelligence and wisdom and thus combining its effects into a single attribute instead of dispersing its power across multiple, as well as the boosts brought to it by "Healer" and "Support", as well as the actual knowledge that "The Face" grants and it bolsters my spellcasting. L stands for luck, and mine is 33, a nicely high starting score.
All of this is interesting because when an attribute reaches some number divisible by 50 I gain new skills for free, and I can train these attributes with ease. They’re actively, though not particularly rapidly, climbing to the next level as I train my ability to speed read, thanks to “Master of All” and with the added boost of “Experience Booster” that is definitely something that will help.
The last thing I need to see is my list of skills. The video I’m watching is beginning to draw to a close so I quickly return my focus to it for a second, taking a beat to review the fuller contents of my mind so I can ensure I remember the important details. I quickly assure myself that I do, before I watch the video end and I deftly explore the website just long enough to reach the next video. Once I’ve reached the video and I hear it begin I resume speed reading, smiling as I sense all of my skills and attributes passively improving. “Master of All” is a hell of a skill.
I resume my gestures until another sprawling text box appears in my field of view, this one filled with a list of my skills. The first thing I see is that my perks have been translated into skills which is neat, though some of them have slightly or not-so-slightly modified names like “Guesstimate” which is definitely a skill version of “Fudge the Numbers”, a perk that makes it so that when I make my best guesses about missing data my numbers tend to be within the range of the actual data. I enjoy the sight of the bars denoting the amount of experience I have with my skills slowly going up, and I am delighted to be aware that there is a healthy number of skills there, as well as to note that there is a lot I can easily get, like skills for meditation and cooking, as well as jogging and skills for various martial arts.
I begin to hum a tune I remember from before the events of the last hour or so and as soon as I do, time freezes and I mentally click through another notification. I grin at the notification that I have just received; it denotes that I have gained the skill for humming, which I plan to use to leapfrog to a much better set of skills and potentially even a new class in the days to come: that of the bard.
I fall into a routine that lasts me a good while. I speed-read my book, while humming and listening to the videos. During this time I level up some of my skills for the first time, as different skills require different amounts of work to level up. I persist in this routine until someone, a young Asian woman, walks over to me and taps my shoulder.
I turn around and smile at her while taking out my headphones, unsurprised by her actions thanks to my system’s “Mini-Map” feature. I notice a set of numbers over her head: 25/25, a rough approximation of her overall physical health and a stranger facet of my "HP System" perk. She is a bit surprised to see me, and as she reacts to me I feel “Silver Tongue” stir fully to life, which is undoubtedly hitting her like a ton of bricks. My sharpened senses catch every facet of her surprise, and arousal, and a part of me is teasingly thrilled by it.
“Silver Tongue” is, for my broad intentions and purposes, my handiest 100 CP perk. It is a perk that makes me attractive in every sense of the word, to an extreme extent in fact, and also actively gives me skills when it comes to manipulation and charisma. I give the woman a chance to regain her composure as I intuitively sense that it’d be best for her ego if she is the leader of this interaction. Hell, my ability to cold-read her like this is due to a fusion of different perks, "Silver Tongue" being one of the most prominent.
“Hello Lucas! My name is Amy, and I wanted to let you know it’s time for your lunch break.” She tells me. I can pick out bits and pieces of different accents mixing and mingling in her voice, as well as smell the very light splash of perfume she’s got on. I momentarily consider how to proceed from here in a way that maximizes her perception of me before I get the sense that she values friendliness and energy.
“Thank you Amy! It’s so kind of you to come and talk to the new guy.” I respond, almost but not quite matching her energy while subtly shifting my body language in such a way that I am perceived in as friendly and welcoming a manner as I can be. I hop up and begin to press buttons on my keyboard and computer which after a few moments lock it, but not before the thing asks me to devise a new username and password.
As soon as I do this, exhibiting the fierce speed of my “Speed typist” perk and lightly training it in the process, I am up and asking Amy to guide me to the on-site cafeteria one of the videos I have watched has informed me about. This causes her eyes to light up and she cheerily leads the way, promising to let me sit with her and her friends. It all sounds a bit high school, but in all honesty it’s pretty nice that the work culture here both allows and apparently expects people to not work during lunch.
We walk out of the actual office we’re in and into a narrow hallway. We step past various amenities this workplace offers as I make conversation, gaining the “Small Talk” and “Gossip” skills in the process. Along the way I step past glass doors and thus past my reflection and I get to see the effect “Silver Tongue” has on me in a purely physical sense.
Pre-chain I was a somewhat slender, awkward-looking geeky sort who walked in a way that revealed my disability to everyone. I had dark brown hair and darker eyes. Now I am a taller, more muscular sort, with gently tousled light brown hair and bright, energetic eyes. I am dressed in stylish, well-maintained and professional-looking clothes.
We quickly make it to the cafeteria; a large space with different stations for different foods and beverages at each corner of the room. Amy explains to me what each of the stations specializes in, and points at and waves at some of her friends, before telling me she’ll go to the section that sells various “Ethnic” types of foods: Hispanic, Asian, and Middle-Eastern foods. I decide to go and grab a burger, though not before I promise myself to be adventurous when it comes to this cafeteria in the days to come.
Getting the burger is a simple process and in less than a minute I’m heading to where Amy’s friends are seated. They welcome me at the large table they’re seated around, and it’s a fair mix of men and women who all seem happy to see me and chat with the new guy.
“Hey new guy, how’s it going?” One of the guys, a muscular-looking guy with hair that’s been dyed blonde, recently, says to me. I confidently return the greeting and say that my name is Lucas. The others all greet me in turn, six people: three men and three women, Steve, Joe, and Anthony, as well as Rebecca, Nancy, and Mary. Amy joins us as soon as Mary, who says she’s in marketing, finishes her introduction, and the Asian woman sits down next to me. As I sit down I overhear several different conversations from throughout the room and mentally note that I'm the center of a few of them. It seems like new people are rare enough that my appearance, coupled with how I look, is worthy of mention.
“So I’m in data entry, and I’ve always been a bit of a numbers guy.” I exclaim when we all begin to eat our lunches. This gets the usual responses, from my new friends complaining about math to others telling me that they're jealous of my skills. I get it, in my pre-chain life numbers were a bane of mine but I didn’t have to select an origin that fit my actual background so I decided to do something wholly new instead, which has benefitted me immediately. The basic information I know how in my context as a data entry person is much more math, as well as some other info, than I anticipated it being, some of which is stuff as specific as strategies that allow me to speed my typing, while other bits of new knowledge revolve around how to properly use different types of software.
When people finish reacting to my statements other people take control of the conversation and, armed with a mixture of self-awareness and confidence, both of which I previously lacked, I find myself very willing to relax and enjoy listening to my coworkers. I gain a few skills related to listening and empathy, and I silently appreciate the ridiculous potential of “Skills”, taking in and appreciating its commitment to game-ifying life.
To be fair, things like listening to people and basic empathy are skills that are sorely underappreciated, but to be rewarded in this way is a tad bit depressing if I stop and think about it for even a short while. I decide to stop doing that, and to be present in the conversation with my new friends right as one of them, Joe, turns to me and asks me what I like to do. I consider the question for a second as I think about how to answer. On the one hand, being honest is important so there’s an argument to be made that I should tell these new friends the truth. On the other hand, this is also my first ever chance to totally reinvent myself… It takes me a second to decide to reinvent myself but in a way that I think, and hope, will lead to me having experiences I just didn't have when I was younger.
"I mean there's a lot of stuff I like but I'm a bit of a gym guy and I really like volunteering." I state, and in doing so honing my deceptiveness and my beginning to build a mental profile I'll keep track of. In my first life I was poor and due to my disability working was both hard and painful, so I didn't volunteer all that often. I was even a bit jealous of people whose lives were easy enough that they could afford to volunteer unless it was tied to some potential job opportunity, and the last time I meaningfully volunteered was probably in college as part of an extra-credit task.... Which defeats the real point of volunteering, even if it achieves positive results all the same.
My new friends all smile at me as they hear my generic answers to their question. One of the guys playfully hits my shoulder and I watch him grin as he feels it's solidity. The average stat score for humans is 10, and my strength is 18. That's only a touch higher than the average but it's high enough that my strength is plainly visible if I l take off my shirt and it's definitely high enough for someone to notice it when they touch a part of me that is stronger than other parts like my shoulders would be. One of the women, Rebecca, who is a short Black woman dressed in a stylish and eye-catching red outfit, is the next to talk.
"You like to volunteer? That's awesome! What kind of volunteering do you do?" She asks me, and this time I'm able to answer pretty easily and honestly.
"I like helping organize health-based initiatives for my community. I mostly volunteered as a health-based person in my hometown, I did stuff like organize free health clinics for people who can't afford healthcare and worked as a volunteer at a family-owned clinic. I want to do that kind of stuff here." I explain. This intrigues my friends, and is an honest remark of mine. Well, the part about what I want to do is honest. "Healer" is a wild perk and I have the chance to improve it safely in this jump, which I need to take advantage of since I have no way of knowing if I'll get to decide where I go from here.
After this some folks express interest in my expressed desires with one of the guys saying he's never heard of a free health clinic. This is unsurprising, though I'm a bit jealous he's never needed one. The rest of lunch passes in a blur, with most of the conversational topics being small talk and workplace gossip, which suits me just fine. When our break comes to an end we quickly separate but not before I exchange my number with multiple people and find myself added to a group chat.
From here I return to my cubicle and spend the rest of the early afternoon, from 1 until 5 listening to videos and doing small things here and there to bolster the rate which I can level up my skills I complete my last video less than ten minutes before the work day ends. During this time I gain the skill "Passive Listening" which is interesting because I didn't gain it before now despite doing hours of passive listening. It seems that for me to gain some skills, the more passive ones I'm doing disinterestedly, it takes me doing more of them before I earn them. This realization causes time to freeze and for me to have to do some mental clicking to get time working again, but it's definitely worth it because I have just raised my intelligence score!
At the end of the work day Hank comes by and checks in on me. He is delighted to learn that I have completed the videos, and I surprise him by being excited about work tomorrow. He shows me how to clock out and then releases me into the wild. I am one of the first people out the door and when I exit the building I entered this world in I am delighted to feel the freedom I now possess. I am on a decently busy street inside some city's bustling downtown. The skies above me are clear and the sun is lazily drifting towards the horizon.
I turn inward and scan my mini-map before spotting the place that should be where my apartment is located. A second later I have effortlessly committed that spot to memory, and then I decide to walk in another direction, eager to see what my starting location has to offer before I head home. My skills all begin to improve as I am able to overhear dozens of conversations in an impressive number of languages, and I can't help but smile as I feel the passive power of the perks I decided to get working in unison.
A/N: While I'm not committing to this as a hard fact my basic plan for this jump is to use a healthy number of time skips once I've done enough work establishing basic facts. In my experience that's the best way to handle writing jumpchain stories that are not 1 chapter = 1 jump. This is meant to be a perfectly normal, no alt-rules chain featuring builds that incorporate drawbacks and starring a guy who is meant to start off as pretty normal. I will post a complete, fully detailed build post HOPEFULLY later today.

My wife, Iris, sat on the couch next to me, holding the bowl of popcorn in her thin hands. On her other side, our little boy, Freddie, sat. He looked just like his mother, with the same dirty blonde hair and faraway eyes, like the eyes of a dreamer. The movie played across our flat-screen TV, some CGI comedy with talking penguins and llamas that could drive cars. It was some garbage from Disney I would never have watched in a million years, but Freddie liked it, so I suffered through it for him.
We had turned off all the lights in the house for the movie. Only the TV’s flickering colors illuminated the room, sending dancing shadows that flashed out behind us.
Suddenly, outside the living room window, a bolt of lightning came down from the sky, splitting a tree in our front yard in two. Light flooded in through the window as if the flash of a nuclear missile were ripping its way across the town. A crash rang out as the tree split down the middle, its massive branches tumbling down onto the lawn. I jumped as the ground shook. More lightning flashed nearby, hitting other houses and lawns on the street.
“Damn, there wasn’t supposed to be any storms,” I said in surprise. The TV had gone black, and now we sat in darkness. For a long moment, I thought the power had gone out.
Abruptly, it came back on with a roar of white noise and a flickering of static. The volume seemed to be increasing by itself, growing into a rushing cacophony like a waterfall. I saw Iris try to scream something, but I could only see her lips move.
As suddenly as it all started, it stopped. The standard “PLEASE STANDBY” screen with a rainbow of blocky colors behind it appeared. There was a clanging, ringing sound that emanated from the speakers, high-pitched and whining like tinnitus. Then text started appearing across the screen. At the same time, a deep, serious voice spoke in the background, like a radio announcer reporting on the death of a President.
“This is the Demon Emergency Alert Broadcast System,” the voice read grimly. “This is not a test. Level five activity has been reported in your area. Do not go outside. Close all blinds, shutters and windows. Lock all doors and close any attached garages. Do not open your doors except to military or police personnel with the proper insignia. Even if someone appears to be in distress, do not open your door to investigate or try to interfere in any way. A temporary quarantine is in effect for your area. Military and police assistance is on the way.
“To ensure the greatest chances of survival during this time of crisis, please abide by the following rules:

1. If blood begins to pour under your door, go to a higher floor immediately. Avoid physical contact with the blood at all costs.
2. All legitimate military and police personnel will have a special insignia on their helmets and jackets, an eye contained in a double-thumbed fist. Only accompany them if they have this insignia- otherwise, they are imposters.
3. Avoid mirrors for the duration of the emergency.”

The voice cut out abruptly, slowing down in a mechanical whine. Static started flashing across the TV, covering the “PLEASE STANDBY” message that had returned in blocky letters. At that moment, the lights went out. They came back on a couple seconds later, brightening and dimming, before the power failed again. This time, the electricity did not come back on.
“What the fuck?” Iris whispered next to me, taking out her phone and shining the light across the dark living room. “That was pretty weird. Everything looks different outside, too. I was just outside an hour ago and the Moon didn’t look anything like that.” She pointed. I got up, realizing she was right. The nighttime sky outside looked strange. I looked out the front window, seeing the Moon was cast in a fluorescent orange light. The cloudless sky had a dark red glow to it, as if some kind of eerie smog had covered everything. I had seen similar things happen after massive forest fires in the past.
“What happened, Dad?” Freddie asked in his small voice. “Where’s the movie?”
“I think we lost power, little man,” I said, ruffling his hair in a nonchalant manner. I didn’t really believe the emergency broadcast, after all. I figured some teenager had hacked the TV station and decided to play a prank, or perhaps some disgruntled employee had done it on his last day as a kind of “Fuck you” to the station. I had heard of similar things happening before. It was somewhat strange how the power had gone out and the sky had changed, but I felt sure that it could all be logically explained.
Someone shrieked outside. I looked out onto the dark street, seeing the silhouette of someone running frantically down the middle of the street, zigzagging wildly. As the figure got closer, I realized it was a young woman. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties. She wore a white shirt and khakis. Her clothes were soaked in streams of blood that made the fabric cling to her trembling body. I saw a vicious gash bitten into her left shoulder, a wound so deep that the white bone peeked out through the ragged patches of flesh.
“Help me!” she wailed, her eyes wild and panicked. “Why won’t anyone help me?!” She staggered and fell forward, crying and bleeding all over the road. I was about to run outside to see what was wrong with the young woman when I saw another silhouette creeping up behind her.
It looked like the body of a man, but something was wrong. As he drew closer, I caught a glimpse of the man’s face through the dim light. The left side of it was rotted and decayed, while the right looked muscular and healthy. He wore a black suit that looked like little more than tatters. Pieces of it fell off in ragged strips. I could see his left hand was also decomposing. Whatever kind of sickness it was, it seemed to extend to the whole left side of his body.
The stiff, skeletal leg cracked as he dragged it behind him, silently drawing nearer to the young woman. The living side of his face split into an insane rictus grin as he looked down at her. He carried a blood-stained ax that dragged on the pavement behind him with a harsh, metallic groan.
“Get away from me!” the woman screamed at the abomination, trying to kick at him. But she looked weakened from blood loss, and her attempts were feeble and slow. The man laughed, a sound that rang out like the gurgling of blood. He spat squirming maggots from his mouth onto the dark street below. He knelt down before the gasping woman and gave a low whisper. It carried on the dead, silent air.
“So warm,” he murmured, wiping his dead, putrefying fingers across the streams of blood that spurted from her left shoulder. He stuck an inhumanly long, pointed tongue out of his chattering lips and began to lick the blood off his hands. “But not enough. Not nearly enough.”
He stuck the bony, decaying fingers of his left hand into the wound and started pulling at the ragged wound. Blood bubbled out in increasing quantities, covering her body in its wet sheen. The woman jerked, her face turning pale and bloodless. She tried to kick at him, but he only laughed again, gurgling like a man with a slit throat. In horror, I watched him raise the ax above his head. It stood there for a long moment, trembling in his shaking hands like a guillotine blade.
“Please, don’t…” the woman pleaded as he grinned down at her. In a blur, he swung the ax down into her forehead. There was a wet cracking of bone and a ringing of metal. She sat there with her mouth open for what felt like a very long moment. Then, limply, she collapsed to the pavement. A dull thud echoed down the street as her skull smacked the pavement.
Sickened, I closed the blinds on the window and turned away, realizing that Freddie and Iris had been standing right behind me the entire time, watching the horrific display. Freddie was crying quietly into his hands, while Iris looked pale, her green eyes wide and unbelieving. The woman exhaled one last time, a long, drawn-out death gasp, and then everything went silent.
I felt sick and weak. Staggering, I put my hand out against the wall. A wave of nausea rose up my stomach. I ran towards the bathroom, shining the light from my cell phone to light the way. Iris started crying. I heard her frantically try to dial 911 over and over again.
“Dammit, nothing’s working!” she cried. I stumbled into the bathroom and threw up all the popcorn and soda I had consumed that night into the toilet. Covered in sweat, I started wiping my face with toilet paper. I pushed myself up, glancing into the mirror.
A cadaverous version of myself stood there, the dead face showing horror and surprise just like my own. I saw the same high cheekbones, the same shaved head, but in the mirror image, maggots writhed and squirmed in the rancid flesh. I backpedaled into the wall, stuttering something incomprehensible. The reflected image did the same, his lipless mouth opening and closing with silent curses. He wore the same clothes as myself, a black T-shirt and blue jeans, but they were rotted and tattered, as if they had been dug out of a grave.
“What the fuck?” I swore, raising my right hand experimentally. The mirror image did the same, matching every single movement perfectly. At that moment, Iris came running into the bathroom, her soft footsteps thudding gently against the marble floor. I jumped, turning to her.
“There’s someone outside the door,” she whispered, her face pale. I glanced back at the reflection, seeing that the other version was no longer following my movements.
“Watch out!” I cried, but it was too late.
The skull-like face came forward in a blur. His arm shot out towards Iris. The surface of the mirror swirled as if it were made of water when his pale flesh made contact with it. The sharp points of bone of his fingers wrapped around Iris’ neck. Stunned and silent, I watched in horror as he started dragging her into that other world.
“Stop him!” she screamed. “God, make him stop!” I ran forward, grabbing her legs as her head and chest was sucked through. There was a slight popping sound when her body entered the liquid-like surface. I tried to hold on with all of my strength, but whatever abomination was on the other side was strong, stronger than me. His iron grip yanked her out of my hands.
“Dad?” Freddie asked, slinking into the bathroom. His eyes were wide and wild. He looked around, confused. “Where’s Mom? Who’s screaming?” I had to make a decision instantly, I knew. I could either stay with my son, or try to get my wife back. I knew I couldn’t just leave Iris, though. I felt mentally torn. I looked between him and the mirror, my heart quivering with anxiety.
“Freddie, go wait in the living room,” I said. “Hide behind the couch. Don’t answer the door or say anything to anyone, no matter what. I’ll be right back.” I wasn’t sure if I would or not. Before I turned to the mirror, I patted his head. “Remember the rules they read us on the TV.” He nodded, but he was only a seven-year-old boy. How much did he really understand? Hell, how much did I even understand? I hadn’t followed the rules, and now Iris was kidnapped.
I turned back to the mirror, seeing that I had no reflection now. There was no sign of Iris or the rotted corpse with my face, either. Slowly, I walked forward, putting my trembling hand out towards its silvery surface. My fingers went through the mirror as if it were mere air, but I felt something freezing cold ripple around my skin. Pins and needles rushed up my arm. Taking a deep breath in, I pushed myself up on the counter and went all the way through.
***
I fell forward onto the marble surface of the bathroom floor, putting my hands out to break the fall. As I glanced up, I realized how strange everything looked. The world here was in constant motion, as if a fog-like void shimmered over the world. The floor’s surface danced with whorls of shadow. They felt as freezing cold as liquid nitrogen as they passed over my body.
Shivering and hugging myself, I pushed myself up off the floor. The walls and ceilings, too, rippled in the same black currents. I glanced around, seeing the white bathtub filled to the brim with dark blood. It bubbled constantly, as if someone were drowning under its surface. Bloody handprints of all sizes smeared the sides of the tub. The smell of copper grew strong, mixing with the strange smell that emanated from the shadows, a pungent, chemical odor like ammonia.
I passed by the mirror, seeing that here, too, I had no reflection. I felt like a vampire, staring into that blank emptiness. Feeling sick and disoriented, I stumbled forward, afraid to even breathe too loudly. I heard Iris crying and shrieking somewhere nearby.
“Nooo…” she wailed. “Please, stop…” Her voice seemed to be growing fainter and weaker, as if she were being dragged away by a tsunami. I peeked around the corner. Everything looked like nightmarish and strange. The living room looked much longer, stretching out for hundreds of feet. It had the same blue carpet and white walls as the one in my world, but now it was the size of a football stadium. The dark red couch had lengthened to an absurd size, stretching wide enough to fit a hundred people in it. The TV loomed across the room like the screen of a movie theater. It flickered constantly, showing a cacophony of white noise and static interspersed with horrible images: naked corpses with their throats sliced from ear to ear, burning bodies, people falling to their deaths from burning buildings.
But none of that was what made an involuntary gasp of horror rise up my throat. It was the enormous spiderweb spanning the length of the ceiling, fluttering softly in the breeze. In the center of the symmetrical web, I saw Iris, covered in silky thread up to her neck. She was hanging horizontally facing down, her body parallel to the floor. She struggled against the webbing that bound her like steel chains. Her eyes bulged from her head as she stared fixedly at the cadaver approaching her.
Crawling upside-down towards Iris was the monstrous image of myself I had seen in the mirror, but he had transformed into something spidery and eldritch. He skittered along with four arms and four legs now. The emaciated limbs poked out of his tattered rags of clothes, forked and elongated, the skin pale and covered in purple sores and deep gashes. Iris continued to plead and shriek in horror as it drew near. The creature’s chattering fangs and blackened gums approached her neck.
At the penultimate moment, Iris saw me, peeking around the corner of the bathroom. I stood there, unsure of what to do. I thought of trying to scream out, to throw something at the creature, but then what? We would both die, and then who would be left alive to protect Freddie? I didn’t know what to do. These thoughts passed through my head in the space of a single moment as we stared at each other. Her eyes shone with a moment of clarity, even as waves of mortal terror shook her body like a hurricane.
“Save Freddie!” she screamed. “Run! Go, Jack!” The creature noticed her staring at me instantly. He curved his long neck and twisted his spidery limbs, clutching the thick strands of silk with his skeletal limbs. The creature turned to me. He had a face like a skull. His filmy eyes regarded me intently. Silver streams of saliva dripped from his mouth. He gave a wide, insane smile, then turned back to Iris, unhinging his jaw. The pale, dead skin tore with a wet ripping sound. The yellow, sharp points of teeth gleamed darkly in the currents of rippling shadow.
I turned, sprinting back into the darkness of the bathroom as the crunching of bone and the shrieking of my wife followed me out. I had to repress an urge to vomit. With all of the speed I could muster, I staggered forward to the counter, where the mirror sat revealing the image of my house, an image that still lacked my reflection inside. Iris’ pleas and screams rapidly weakened. I heard her choking and gasping. A few moments later, I heard a rapid skittering of many legs approaching the bathroom. I started to pull myself up on the counter to escape this hellish mirror world.
Something creaked in the doorway behind me. I glanced back in fright, seeing the abomination with the eight limbs creeping up behind me. He stood only a few feet away from me now. As my eyes met his white, dead ones, his cadaverous face split into a sickly grin.
***
A wave of adrenaline shook my body. My vision turned white in the darkness. With a pounding heart, I pushed myself up and lunged through the mirror. The eight-limbed abomination with my rotting face gave an insane shriek. I felt a freezing cold hand wrap around my ankle and begin to drag me back.
“No!” I shrieked, trying to kick blindly at the mirror creature’s dead face. “I’ll never go with you! Never!” I smashed my sneaker into his jaw. There was a shattering sound, as if a ceramic vase had been dropped. The chattering of sharp teeth and the shrieking cut off abruptly. Looking back, I saw the corpse’s broken jaw hanging on by only a few shreds of tendons and muscle. The eyes went slack and I felt the grip loosen for the briefest moment. I pushed myself forward and slid through the mirror.
The freezing cold, pins-and-needles sensation returned, running over my body like water. I collapsed head-first onto the sink, rolling onto the floor with a jarring thud. The shrieking of the eight-limbed corpse continued behind me. I saw him trying to force his elongated body through the mirror. The long arms with their sharp fingers reached through, swiping wildly at the air. Before I could escape, one of them came through and cut four deep gashes into my chest. My shirt instantly became soaked in blood as a burning pain ran up my body.
I heard someone pounding at the front door, but in the panic of the moment, I could barely think. As the rest of the cadaverous body tried to push his way through the mirror, I dragged myself out of the bathroom. I slammed the door shut, even as the sounds of breaking and shattering followed me out of the bathroom. Ignoring the pain radiating through my body, I ran over to the couch and began shoving it towards the door.
The door shuddered in its frame. The house and the floor shook as the corpse threw his enormous body into the wood over and over again. Cracks spiderwebbed down the front of it, and I knew it wouldn’t last more than a couple more seconds.
“Freddie!” I screamed, looking around frantically. My heart dropped when I remembered I had told him to hide behind the couch. He was not here, not anywhere in the living room. “Freddie! Where the hell are you?”
“Dad?!” a voice responded from outside. It sounded like Freddie’s voice, but it was eerie, as if his voice had gotten caught between stations on the radio. It sputtered with static. It fell and rose in an ear-splitting scream. “Dad, let me in! Please! They’re going to hurt me!”
I ran to the front door, looking outside, but I saw no sign of Freddie. The sky had changed, though. The Moon had changed from orange to a dark red, the color of a burst blood blister. The rest of the sky was such a dark shade of crimson that it looked almost black. Around my feet, I felt something warm and wet.
“Where are you?” I yelled. “I don’t see…” At that moment, the bathroom door exploded outwards in a shower of nails and splinters, covering my face and body in the debris. The cadaverous face peeked around the corner, as if he were playing hide-and-seek rather than hunting and killing people.
“Fuck!” I swore as I looked down, seeing blood streaming in from under the door. It covered my sneakers up to the tops of the soles as more and more flooded in.
I ran for the stairs as the eight-limbed corpse skittered across the ceiling like a spider. He hung upside-down, the jaw hanging askew on his putrefying skull, the filmy eyes flashing with bloodlust. I was already half-way up the stairs when the corpse jumped down into the lake of blood at the bottom of the stairs. With his elongated, twisted limbs, he began pulling himself towards the first step in a blur, covering his body in the thick, putrid blood that continuously poured in through the bottom of every door.
But something was in the blood, I saw to my horror. I froze in place near the top of the stairs, watching the creature as he struggled to pull himself out of the blood, which was already at knee-height and still rising. There were dark silhouettes slithering through the blood. I saw the head of a black snake peer out at the eight-limbed cadaver. The snake had no eyelids, and its eyes looked as red as the blood it lived in. It wrapped its muscular body around his torso, rising up towards the cadaver’s face. The blood-red eyes met those dead, rotted ones of the corpse as they stared at each other. Then the eldritch snake lunged forward and bit off the corpse’s face.
Other snakes started to rise out of the surface, wrapping around his four legs and slithering up his back. The corpse wailed like a banshee, running blindly into the walls to try to smash the many snakes that suffocated and bit him from all sides. But this only seemed to heighten their hunger and bloodlust.
The sound of shredding flesh and snapping bone followed me as I ran into Freddie’s room and hid. His room was the only one without mirrors in it, I knew, and I wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
***
In the thick curtains of shadow, a small voice rang out, terrified and searching.
“Dad? Is that really you?” Freddie asked, hiding behind his chest of toys. I saw his small body, contorted and pale. His little head poked above the lid.
“Freddie! You’re alive!” I cried, running over and hugging him. Tears streamed down my face. “I thought you were outside. I heard you screaming out there.”
“I heard you and Mom yelling outside, too,” Freddie whispered, his small body trembling as I held him. “I got scared and ran up here. I’m sorry, Dad. Where’s Mom?”
“It’s OK. Thank God you did,” I murmured, remembering the lake of blood downstairs and all those strange, black snakes. “Mom isn’t coming, Freddie.” He went silent then and didn’t ask any more questions. A sick, heavy weight covered my heart.
In the darkness, we hid and waited, though I knew not for what. The smell of copper and iron from all the blood downstairs had become overwhelming. After a few minutes of this, I took my phone out and shone it around experimentally.
I saw a thin layer of blood streaming into the room, rising up the stairs like the waves of a tsunami. It covered the hallway’s hardwood floor, a half-inch thick deep already and growing fast. Dark shapes slithered and writhed in it. Small waves pushed the lake of blood towards us, and within seconds, my shoes were submerged in it.
“Dad?” Freddie asked in a panicked voice. “What’s that? There’s things inside of it…” Without thinking, I picked Freddie up and held him above my body.
“We need to get to the attic!” I whispered to him, sprinting through the rising pool of blood with my son in my arms. “Don’t be afraid, Freddie. We’ll make it.” I had nearly reached the hallway where the pull-cord for the attic stairs hung when something wrapped around my feet. I went flying forwards, dropping Freddie in the pool of blood. He was submerged up to his waist instantly. His small body writhed in terror.
“Help me! Help me!” he screamed, flailing his arms as black snakes circled him like hungry sharks. The one wrapping around my legs continued slithering up my body. A rising sense of horror and panic filled me. At that moment, I knew I was doomed. I only hoped I would see Iris again. Then I noticed spotlights turn on outside, filling the inside of the house with a radiance like the Sun.
All of the windows upstairs suddenly smashed inwards. A spotlight shone through the nearest of them, illuminating me and Freddie in our frantic struggles against the snakes. Men in SWAT gear crawled through the shattered windows. With their gas masks, their faces looked like insects with too many compound eyes.
On their helmets and jackets, I saw a strange symbol: a double-fisted thumb holding a staring, lidless eye. Dozens of them streamed in, shooting the snakes that circled Freddie and me. As the one wrapping around its body slowly wound its way towards my face, one of the black-clad men came up behind it and shot it in the skull. The snake’s body collapsed all around me, its muscles loosening in death. With relief washing over me, I ran to our saviors.
“Get us out of here!” I pleaded. “There’s horrible things happening!” The man nodded in his black military gear, his mask revealing nothing.
“Follow me,” he said dispassionately, starting towards the roof. “You two are the only survivors we’ve found so far. It truly is a miracle anyone’s still alive.” I could only agree silently.
"This must be all over every news channel," I said. The masked man shook his head.
"No one knows about this," he responded. "No one but you two and our group. The media won't say shit. They do what we tell them."
***
I followed the men out onto the roof. Helicopters crisscrossed the skies, illuminating the houses and streets with many bright spotlights. As a helicopter slowly lowered itself down to take Freddie and me away from that pit of nightmares, dropping a rope for us to ascend, I glanced around my town one last time.
Many of the houses were destroyed or burning, sending thick clouds of black smoke into the blood-red sky. Men in full SWAT gear zoomed around the blood flooding the streets in boats, the whirring of the motors echoing like angry hornets. Turning away, I followed Freddie into the helicopter and never returned.
Iris is dead, and Freddie and I have seen enough horrors to scar us for a thousand years. In my heart, I know it is my fault my wife died. I didn’t follow the rules, and she paid the price.
I will hear those dying, panicked screams until my final breath.

30 yr old Female. 145lbs. 5’5” Medications: Zoloft 150 mg daily Relevant history—had chickenpox as a kid
Two days ago my tongue felt sort of numb. Then yesterday my tongue and throat developed sores. Some look like canker sores. Others look like blisters. It’s all on one side. My left ear also hurts. Hurts to swallow and talk. I went to urgent care and she said “yeah I don’t know. I don’t know how shingles presents orally.” So. Here I am. I’ll post pictures in the comments. I guess it doesn’t matter really right? Nothing can be done anyway 🤷‍♀️

Not sure what to do. I currently have a bad case of hand foot mouth disease from my kids and its THE worse pain I've ever had in my life. My body, nostrils, throat tongue hands bottom of feet are covered in blisters, I can't walk and I can barely talk! I'm exec sous chef of a restaurant inside a retirement community(no exec chef he's gone!) And of course we have mother's day brunch Sunday so the director of dining is freaking out.
She doesn't seem to understand the level of pain I'm going thru. There's no way I can do kitchen work or even stand up. I feel so bad that this is the worse possible timing ever!!! But he'll no I'm not working like this am I wrong?!

As pretty much every breastfeeding team, my LO and I had a bit of a rocky start. It was an unplanned C-Section, so my milk took five days to come in, and we’ve had to combo feed from the start. I did everything I could to get my supply up, but my baby didn’t gain enough weight, so we kept supplementing with formula.
And then: the pain. The horrible, unrelenting pain. LO isn’t tongue tied, his latch is good, I’m just one of the unlucky bitches that have a painful milk ejection reflex pretty much all of the time.
We soldiered through the first two months. After ten weeks of agony, we hit a smooth patch. Breastfeeding was still horribly uncomfortable, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Life felt pretty good.
Then, after four okay-ish weeks, I got a milk blister. The pain was back.
And ever since then, I‘ve been in pain.
The milk blister turned into a clogged duct, turned into continuous pain. I’ve consulted a lactation specialist, my OBGYN, and my midwife.
I’ve stopped eating sugar and white flour because even though the tests came back negative, it might have been a fungal infection. I’ve tried lanolin, silverettes, tanning with black tea, hot compresses, cold compresses, magnesium and calcium supplements (because of the vasospasm that also made an appearance), two kinds of milk pumps, and five kinds of nursing bras.
I dread the feedings. I have to ramp up the supplementing with formula because my supply is tanking and all I can think of is, what the fuck was this all for? The pain, the energy, the willpower, the money i sank in this project?
My baby will be five months old soon. I can’t stop crying because I might have finally reached my breaking point and I might have to call it quits but I feel like such a wimp.

My wife, Iris, sat on the couch next to me, holding the bowl of popcorn in her thin hands. On her other side, our little boy, Freddie, sat. He looked just like his mother, with the same dirty blonde hair and faraway eyes, like the eyes of a dreamer. The movie played across our flat-screen TV, some CGI comedy with talking penguins and llamas that could drive cars. It was some garbage from Disney I would never have watched in a million years, but Freddie liked it, so I suffered through it for him.
We had turned off all the lights in the house for the movie. Only the TV’s flickering colors illuminated the room, sending dancing shadows that flashed out behind us.
Suddenly, outside the living room window, a bolt of lightning came down from the sky, splitting a tree in our front yard in two. Light flooded in through the window as if the flash of a nuclear missile were ripping its way across the town. A crash rang out as the tree split down the middle, its massive branches tumbling down onto the lawn. I jumped as the ground shook. More lightning flashed nearby, hitting other houses and lawns on the street.
“Damn, there wasn’t supposed to be any storms,” I said in surprise. The TV had gone black, and now we sat in darkness. For a long moment, I thought the power had gone out.
Abruptly, it came back on with a roar of white noise and a flickering of static. The volume seemed to be increasing by itself, growing into a rushing cacophony like a waterfall. I saw Iris try to scream something, but I could only see her lips move.
As suddenly as it all started, it stopped. The standard “PLEASE STANDBY” screen with a rainbow of blocky colors behind it appeared. There was a clanging, ringing sound that emanated from the speakers, high-pitched and whining like tinnitus. Then text started appearing across the screen. At the same time, a deep, serious voice spoke in the background, like a radio announcer reporting on the death of a President.
“This is the Demon Emergency Alert Broadcast System,” the voice read grimly. “This is not a test. Level five activity has been reported in your area. Do not go outside. Close all blinds, shutters and windows. Lock all doors and close any attached garages. Do not open your doors except to military or police personnel with the proper insignia. Even if someone appears to be in distress, do not open your door to investigate or try to interfere in any way. A temporary quarantine is in effect for your area. Military and police assistance is on the way.
“To ensure the greatest chances of survival during this time of crisis, please abide by the following rules:

1. If blood begins to pour under your door, go to a higher floor immediately. Avoid physical contact with the blood at all costs.
2. All legitimate military and police personnel will have a special insignia on their helmets and jackets, an eye contained in a double-thumbed fist. Only accompany them if they have this insignia- otherwise, they are imposters.
3. Avoid mirrors for the duration of the emergency.”

The voice cut out abruptly, slowing down in a mechanical whine. Static started flashing across the TV, covering the “PLEASE STANDBY” message that had returned in blocky letters. At that moment, the lights went out. They came back on a couple seconds later, brightening and dimming, before the power failed again. This time, the electricity did not come back on.
“What the fuck?” Iris whispered next to me, taking out her phone and shining the light across the dark living room. “That was pretty weird. Everything looks different outside, too. I was just outside an hour ago and the Moon didn’t look anything like that.” She pointed. I got up, realizing she was right. The nighttime sky outside looked strange. I looked out the front window, seeing the Moon was cast in a fluorescent orange light. The cloudless sky had a dark red glow to it, as if some kind of eerie smog had covered everything. I had seen similar things happen after massive forest fires in the past.
“What happened, Dad?” Freddie asked in his small voice. “Where’s the movie?”
“I think we lost power, little man,” I said, ruffling his hair in a nonchalant manner. I didn’t really believe the emergency broadcast, after all. I figured some teenager had hacked the TV station and decided to play a prank, or perhaps some disgruntled employee had done it on his last day as a kind of “Fuck you” to the station. I had heard of similar things happening before. It was somewhat strange how the power had gone out and the sky had changed, but I felt sure that it could all be logically explained.
Someone shrieked outside. I looked out onto the dark street, seeing the silhouette of someone running frantically down the middle of the street, zigzagging wildly. As the figure got closer, I realized it was a young woman. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties. She wore a white shirt and khakis. Her clothes were soaked in streams of blood that made the fabric cling to her trembling body. I saw a vicious gash bitten into her left shoulder, a wound so deep that the white bone peeked out through the ragged patches of flesh.
“Help me!” she wailed, her eyes wild and panicked. “Why won’t anyone help me?!” She staggered and fell forward, crying and bleeding all over the road. I was about to run outside to see what was wrong with the young woman when I saw another silhouette creeping up behind her.
It looked like the body of a man, but something was wrong. As he drew closer, I caught a glimpse of the man’s face through the dim light. The left side of it was rotted and decayed, while the right looked muscular and healthy. He wore a black suit that looked like little more than tatters. Pieces of it fell off in ragged strips. I could see his left hand was also decomposing. Whatever kind of sickness it was, it seemed to extend to the whole left side of his body.
The stiff, skeletal leg cracked as he dragged it behind him, silently drawing nearer to the young woman. The living side of his face split into an insane rictus grin as he looked down at her. He carried a blood-stained ax that dragged on the pavement behind him with a harsh, metallic groan.
“Get away from me!” the woman screamed at the abomination, trying to kick at him. But she looked weakened from blood loss, and her attempts were feeble and slow. The man laughed, a sound that rang out like the gurgling of blood. He spat squirming maggots from his mouth onto the dark street below. He knelt down before the gasping woman and gave a low whisper. It carried on the dead, silent air.
“So warm,” he murmured, wiping his dead, putrefying fingers across the streams of blood that spurted from her left shoulder. He stuck an inhumanly long, pointed tongue out of his chattering lips and began to lick the blood off his hands. “But not enough. Not nearly enough.”
He stuck the bony, decaying fingers of his left hand into the wound and started pulling at the ragged wound. Blood bubbled out in increasing quantities, covering her body in its wet sheen. The woman jerked, her face turning pale and bloodless. She tried to kick at him, but he only laughed again, gurgling like a man with a slit throat. In horror, I watched him raise the ax above his head. It stood there for a long moment, trembling in his shaking hands like a guillotine blade.
“Please, don’t…” the woman pleaded as he grinned down at her. In a blur, he swung the ax down into her forehead. There was a wet cracking of bone and a ringing of metal. She sat there with her mouth open for what felt like a very long moment. Then, limply, she collapsed to the pavement. A dull thud echoed down the street as her skull smacked the pavement.
Sickened, I closed the blinds on the window and turned away, realizing that Freddie and Iris had been standing right behind me the entire time, watching the horrific display. Freddie was crying quietly into his hands, while Iris looked pale, her green eyes wide and unbelieving. The woman exhaled one last time, a long, drawn-out death gasp, and then everything went silent.
I felt sick and weak. Staggering, I put my hand out against the wall. A wave of nausea rose up my stomach. I ran towards the bathroom, shining the light from my cell phone to light the way. Iris started crying. I heard her frantically try to dial 911 over and over again.
“Dammit, nothing’s working!” she cried. I stumbled into the bathroom and threw up all the popcorn and soda I had consumed that night into the toilet. Covered in sweat, I started wiping my face with toilet paper. I pushed myself up, glancing into the mirror.
A cadaverous version of myself stood there, the dead face showing horror and surprise just like my own. I saw the same high cheekbones, the same shaved head, but in the mirror image, maggots writhed and squirmed in the rancid flesh. I backpedaled into the wall, stuttering something incomprehensible. The reflected image did the same, his lipless mouth opening and closing with silent curses. He wore the same clothes as myself, a black T-shirt and blue jeans, but they were rotted and tattered, as if they had been dug out of a grave.
“What the fuck?” I swore, raising my right hand experimentally. The mirror image did the same, matching every single movement perfectly. At that moment, Iris came running into the bathroom, her soft footsteps thudding gently against the marble floor. I jumped, turning to her.
“There’s someone outside the door,” she whispered, her face pale. I glanced back at the reflection, seeing that the other version was no longer following my movements.
“Watch out!” I cried, but it was too late.
The skull-like face came forward in a blur. His arm shot out towards Iris. The surface of the mirror swirled as if it were made of water when his pale flesh made contact with it. The sharp points of bone of his fingers wrapped around Iris’ neck. Stunned and silent, I watched in horror as he started dragging her into that other world.
“Stop him!” she screamed. “God, make him stop!” I ran forward, grabbing her legs as her head and chest was sucked through. There was a slight popping sound when her body entered the liquid-like surface. I tried to hold on with all of my strength, but whatever abomination was on the other side was strong, stronger than me. His iron grip yanked her out of my hands.
“Dad?” Freddie asked, slinking into the bathroom. His eyes were wide and wild. He looked around, confused. “Where’s Mom? Who’s screaming?” I had to make a decision instantly, I knew. I could either stay with my son, or try to get my wife back. I knew I couldn’t just leave Iris, though. I felt mentally torn. I looked between him and the mirror, my heart quivering with anxiety.
“Freddie, go wait in the living room,” I said. “Hide behind the couch. Don’t answer the door or say anything to anyone, no matter what. I’ll be right back.” I wasn’t sure if I would or not. Before I turned to the mirror, I patted his head. “Remember the rules they read us on the TV.” He nodded, but he was only a seven-year-old boy. How much did he really understand? Hell, how much did I even understand? I hadn’t followed the rules, and now Iris was kidnapped.
I turned back to the mirror, seeing that I had no reflection now. There was no sign of Iris or the rotted corpse with my face, either. Slowly, I walked forward, putting my trembling hand out towards its silvery surface. My fingers went through the mirror as if it were mere air, but I felt something freezing cold ripple around my skin. Pins and needles rushed up my arm. Taking a deep breath in, I pushed myself up on the counter and went all the way through.
***
I fell forward onto the marble surface of the bathroom floor, putting my hands out to break the fall. As I glanced up, I realized how strange everything looked. The world here was in constant motion, as if a fog-like void shimmered over the world. The floor’s surface danced with whorls of shadow. They felt as freezing cold as liquid nitrogen as they passed over my body.
Shivering and hugging myself, I pushed myself up off the floor. The walls and ceilings, too, rippled in the same black currents. I glanced around, seeing the white bathtub filled to the brim with dark blood. It bubbled constantly, as if someone were drowning under its surface. Bloody handprints of all sizes smeared the sides of the tub. The smell of copper grew strong, mixing with the strange smell that emanated from the shadows, a pungent, chemical odor like ammonia.
I passed by the mirror, seeing that here, too, I had no reflection. I felt like a vampire, staring into that blank emptiness. Feeling sick and disoriented, I stumbled forward, afraid to even breathe too loudly. I heard Iris crying and shrieking somewhere nearby.
“Nooo…” she wailed. “Please, stop…” Her voice seemed to be growing fainter and weaker, as if she were being dragged away by a tsunami. I peeked around the corner. Everything looked like nightmarish and strange. The living room looked much longer, stretching out for hundreds of feet. It had the same blue carpet and white walls as the one in my world, but now it was the size of a football stadium. The dark red couch had lengthened to an absurd size, stretching wide enough to fit a hundred people in it. The TV loomed across the room like the screen of a movie theater. It flickered constantly, showing a cacophony of white noise and static interspersed with horrible images: naked corpses with their throats sliced from ear to ear, burning bodies, people falling to their deaths from burning buildings.
But none of that was what made an involuntary gasp of horror rise up my throat. It was the enormous spiderweb spanning the length of the ceiling, fluttering softly in the breeze. In the center of the symmetrical web, I saw Iris, covered in silky thread up to her neck. She was hanging horizontally facing down, her body parallel to the floor. She struggled against the webbing that bound her like steel chains. Her eyes bulged from her head as she stared fixedly at the cadaver approaching her.
Crawling upside-down towards Iris was the monstrous image of myself I had seen in the mirror, but he had transformed into something spidery and eldritch. He skittered along with four arms and four legs now. The emaciated limbs poked out of his tattered rags of clothes, forked and elongated, the skin pale and covered in purple sores and deep gashes. Iris continued to plead and shriek in horror as it drew near. The creature’s chattering fangs and blackened gums approached her neck.
At the penultimate moment, Iris saw me, peeking around the corner of the bathroom. I stood there, unsure of what to do. I thought of trying to scream out, to throw something at the creature, but then what? We would both die, and then who would be left alive to protect Freddie? I didn’t know what to do. These thoughts passed through my head in the space of a single moment as we stared at each other. Her eyes shone with a moment of clarity, even as waves of mortal terror shook her body like a hurricane.
“Save Freddie!” she screamed. “Run! Go, Jack!” The creature noticed her staring at me instantly. He curved his long neck and twisted his spidery limbs, clutching the thick strands of silk with his skeletal limbs. The creature turned to me. He had a face like a skull. His filmy eyes regarded me intently. Silver streams of saliva dripped from his mouth. He gave a wide, insane smile, then turned back to Iris, unhinging his jaw. The pale, dead skin tore with a wet ripping sound. The yellow, sharp points of teeth gleamed darkly in the currents of rippling shadow.
I turned, sprinting back into the darkness of the bathroom as the crunching of bone and the shrieking of my wife followed me out. I had to repress an urge to vomit. With all of the speed I could muster, I staggered forward to the counter, where the mirror sat revealing the image of my house, an image that still lacked my reflection inside. Iris’ pleas and screams rapidly weakened. I heard her choking and gasping. A few moments later, I heard a rapid skittering of many legs approaching the bathroom. I started to pull myself up on the counter to escape this hellish mirror world.
Something creaked in the doorway behind me. I glanced back in fright, seeing the abomination with the eight limbs creeping up behind me. He stood only a few feet away from me now. As my eyes met his white, dead ones, his cadaverous face split into a sickly grin.
***
A wave of adrenaline shook my body. My vision turned white in the darkness. With a pounding heart, I pushed myself up and lunged through the mirror. The eight-limbed abomination with my rotting face gave an insane shriek. I felt a freezing cold hand wrap around my ankle and begin to drag me back.
“No!” I shrieked, trying to kick blindly at the mirror creature’s dead face. “I’ll never go with you! Never!” I smashed my sneaker into his jaw. There was a shattering sound, as if a ceramic vase had been dropped. The chattering of sharp teeth and the shrieking cut off abruptly. Looking back, I saw the corpse’s broken jaw hanging on by only a few shreds of tendons and muscle. The eyes went slack and I felt the grip loosen for the briefest moment. I pushed myself forward and slid through the mirror.
The freezing cold, pins-and-needles sensation returned, running over my body like water. I collapsed head-first onto the sink, rolling onto the floor with a jarring thud. The shrieking of the eight-limbed corpse continued behind me. I saw him trying to force his elongated body through the mirror. The long arms with their sharp fingers reached through, swiping wildly at the air. Before I could escape, one of them came through and cut four deep gashes into my chest. My shirt instantly became soaked in blood as a burning pain ran up my body.
I heard someone pounding at the front door, but in the panic of the moment, I could barely think. As the rest of the cadaverous body tried to push his way through the mirror, I dragged myself out of the bathroom. I slammed the door shut, even as the sounds of breaking and shattering followed me out of the bathroom. Ignoring the pain radiating through my body, I ran over to the couch and began shoving it towards the door.
The door shuddered in its frame. The house and the floor shook as the corpse threw his enormous body into the wood over and over again. Cracks spiderwebbed down the front of it, and I knew it wouldn’t last more than a couple more seconds.
“Freddie!” I screamed, looking around frantically. My heart dropped when I remembered I had told him to hide behind the couch. He was not here, not anywhere in the living room. “Freddie! Where the hell are you?”
“Dad?!” a voice responded from outside. It sounded like Freddie’s voice, but it was eerie, as if his voice had gotten caught between stations on the radio. It sputtered with static. It fell and rose in an ear-splitting scream. “Dad, let me in! Please! They’re going to hurt me!”
I ran to the front door, looking outside, but I saw no sign of Freddie. The sky had changed, though. The Moon had changed from orange to a dark red, the color of a burst blood blister. The rest of the sky was such a dark shade of crimson that it looked almost black. Around my feet, I felt something warm and wet.
“Where are you?” I yelled. “I don’t see…” At that moment, the bathroom door exploded outwards in a shower of nails and splinters, covering my face and body in the debris. The cadaverous face peeked around the corner, as if he were playing hide-and-seek rather than hunting and killing people.
“Fuck!” I swore as I looked down, seeing blood streaming in from under the door. It covered my sneakers up to the tops of the soles as more and more flooded in.
I ran for the stairs as the eight-limbed corpse skittered across the ceiling like a spider. He hung upside-down, the jaw hanging askew on his putrefying skull, the filmy eyes flashing with bloodlust. I was already half-way up the stairs when the corpse jumped down into the lake of blood at the bottom of the stairs. With his elongated, twisted limbs, he began pulling himself towards the first step in a blur, covering his body in the thick, putrid blood that continuously poured in through the bottom of every door.
But something was in the blood, I saw to my horror. I froze in place near the top of the stairs, watching the creature as he struggled to pull himself out of the blood, which was already at knee-height and still rising. There were dark silhouettes slithering through the blood. I saw the head of a black snake peer out at the eight-limbed cadaver. The snake had no eyelids, and its eyes looked as red as the blood it lived in. It wrapped its muscular body around his torso, rising up towards the cadaver’s face. The blood-red eyes met those dead, rotted ones of the corpse as they stared at each other. Then the eldritch snake lunged forward and bit off the corpse’s face.
Other snakes started to rise out of the surface, wrapping around his four legs and slithering up his back. The corpse wailed like a banshee, running blindly into the walls to try to smash the many snakes that suffocated and bit him from all sides. But this only seemed to heighten their hunger and bloodlust.
The sound of shredding flesh and snapping bone followed me as I ran into Freddie’s room and hid. His room was the only one without mirrors in it, I knew, and I wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
***
In the thick curtains of shadow, a small voice rang out, terrified and searching.
“Dad? Is that really you?” Freddie asked, hiding behind his chest of toys. I saw his small body, contorted and pale. His little head poked above the lid.
“Freddie! You’re alive!” I cried, running over and hugging him. Tears streamed down my face. “I thought you were outside. I heard you screaming out there.”
“I heard you and Mom yelling outside, too,” Freddie whispered, his small body trembling as I held him. “I got scared and ran up here. I’m sorry, Dad. Where’s Mom?”
“It’s OK. Thank God you did,” I murmured, remembering the lake of blood downstairs and all those strange, black snakes. “Mom isn’t coming, Freddie.” He went silent then and didn’t ask any more questions. A sick, heavy weight covered my heart.
In the darkness, we hid and waited, though I knew not for what. The smell of copper and iron from all the blood downstairs had become overwhelming. After a few minutes of this, I took my phone out and shone it around experimentally.
I saw a thin layer of blood streaming into the room, rising up the stairs like the waves of a tsunami. It covered the hallway’s hardwood floor, a half-inch thick deep already and growing fast. Dark shapes slithered and writhed in it. Small waves pushed the lake of blood towards us, and within seconds, my shoes were submerged in it.
“Dad?” Freddie asked in a panicked voice. “What’s that? There’s things inside of it…” Without thinking, I picked Freddie up and held him above my body.
“We need to get to the attic!” I whispered to him, sprinting through the rising pool of blood with my son in my arms. “Don’t be afraid, Freddie. We’ll make it.” I had nearly reached the hallway where the pull-cord for the attic stairs hung when something wrapped around my feet. I went flying forwards, dropping Freddie in the pool of blood. He was submerged up to his waist instantly. His small body writhed in terror.
“Help me! Help me!” he screamed, flailing his arms as black snakes circled him like hungry sharks. The one wrapping around my legs continued slithering up my body. A rising sense of horror and panic filled me. At that moment, I knew I was doomed. I only hoped I would see Iris again. Then I noticed spotlights turn on outside, filling the inside of the house with a radiance like the Sun.
All of the windows upstairs suddenly smashed inwards. A spotlight shone through the nearest of them, illuminating me and Freddie in our frantic struggles against the snakes. Men in SWAT gear crawled through the shattered windows. With their gas masks, their faces looked like insects with too many compound eyes.
On their helmets and jackets, I saw a strange symbol: a double-fisted thumb holding a staring, lidless eye. Dozens of them streamed in, shooting the snakes that circled Freddie and me. As the one wrapping around its body slowly wound its way towards my face, one of the black-clad men came up behind it and shot it in the skull. The snake’s body collapsed all around me, its muscles loosening in death. With relief washing over me, I ran to our saviors.
“Get us out of here!” I pleaded. “There’s horrible things happening!” The man nodded in his black military gear, his mask revealing nothing.
“Follow me,” he said dispassionately, starting towards the roof. “You two are the only survivors we’ve found so far. It truly is a miracle anyone’s still alive.” I could only agree silently.
"This must be all over every news channel," I said. The masked man shook his head.
"No one knows about this," he responded. "No one but you two and our group. The media won't say shit. They do what we tell them."
***
I followed the men out onto the roof. Helicopters crisscrossed the skies, illuminating the houses and streets with many bright spotlights. As a helicopter slowly lowered itself down to take Freddie and me away from that pit of nightmares, dropping a rope for us to ascend, I glanced around my town one last time.
Many of the houses were destroyed or burning, sending thick clouds of black smoke into the blood-red sky. Men in full SWAT gear zoomed around the blood flooding the streets in boats, the whirring of the motors echoing like angry hornets. Turning away, I followed Freddie into the helicopter and never returned.
Iris is dead, and Freddie and I have seen enough horrors to scar us for a thousand years. In my heart, I know it is my fault my wife died. I didn’t follow the rules, and she paid the price.
I will hear those dying, panicked screams until my final breath.

My wife, Iris, sat on the couch next to me, holding the bowl of popcorn in her thin hands. On her other side, our little boy, Freddie, sat. He looked just like his mother, with the same dirty blonde hair and faraway eyes, like the eyes of a dreamer. The movie played across our flat-screen TV, some CGI comedy with talking penguins and llamas that could drive cars. It was some garbage from Disney I would never have watched in a million years, but Freddie liked it, so I suffered through it for him.
We had turned off all the lights in the house for the movie. Only the TV’s flickering colors illuminated the room, sending dancing shadows that flashed out behind us.
Suddenly, outside the living room window, a bolt of lightning came down from the sky, splitting a tree in our front yard in two. Light flooded in through the window as if the flash of a nuclear missile were ripping its way across the town. A crash rang out as the tree split down the middle, its massive branches tumbling down onto the lawn. I jumped as the ground shook. More lightning flashed nearby, hitting other houses and lawns on the street.
“Damn, there wasn’t supposed to be any storms,” I said in surprise. The TV had gone black, and now we sat in darkness. For a long moment, I thought the power had gone out.
Abruptly, it came back on with a roar of white noise and a flickering of static. The volume seemed to be increasing by itself, growing into a rushing cacophony like a waterfall. I saw Iris try to scream something, but I could only see her lips move.
As suddenly as it all started, it stopped. The standard “PLEASE STANDBY” screen with a rainbow of blocky colors behind it appeared. There was a clanging, ringing sound that emanated from the speakers, high-pitched and whining like tinnitus. Then text started appearing across the screen. At the same time, a deep, serious voice spoke in the background, like a radio announcer reporting on the death of a President.
“This is the Demon Emergency Alert Broadcast System,” the voice read grimly. “This is not a test. Level five activity has been reported in your area. Do not go outside. Close all blinds, shutters and windows. Lock all doors and close any attached garages. Do not open your doors except to military or police personnel with the proper insignia. Even if someone appears to be in distress, do not open your door to investigate or try to interfere in any way. A temporary quarantine is in effect for your area. Military and police assistance is on the way.
“To ensure the greatest chances of survival during this time of crisis, please abide by the following rules:

1. If blood begins to pour under your door, go to a higher floor immediately. Avoid physical contact with the blood at all costs.
2. All legitimate military and police personnel will have a special insignia on their helmets and jackets, an eye contained in a double-thumbed fist. Only accompany them if they have this insignia- otherwise, they are imposters.
3. Avoid mirrors for the duration of the emergency.”

The voice cut out abruptly, slowing down in a mechanical whine. Static started flashing across the TV, covering the “PLEASE STANDBY” message that had returned in blocky letters. At that moment, the lights went out. They came back on a couple seconds later, brightening and dimming, before the power failed again. This time, the electricity did not come back on.
“What the fuck?” Iris whispered next to me, taking out her phone and shining the light across the dark living room. “That was pretty weird. Everything looks different outside, too. I was just outside an hour ago and the Moon didn’t look anything like that.” She pointed. I got up, realizing she was right. The nighttime sky outside looked strange. I looked out the front window, seeing the Moon was cast in a fluorescent orange light. The cloudless sky had a dark red glow to it, as if some kind of eerie smog had covered everything. I had seen similar things happen after massive forest fires in the past.
“What happened, Dad?” Freddie asked in his small voice. “Where’s the movie?”
“I think we lost power, little man,” I said, ruffling his hair in a nonchalant manner. I didn’t really believe the emergency broadcast, after all. I figured some teenager had hacked the TV station and decided to play a prank, or perhaps some disgruntled employee had done it on his last day as a kind of “Fuck you” to the station. I had heard of similar things happening before. It was somewhat strange how the power had gone out and the sky had changed, but I felt sure that it could all be logically explained.
Someone shrieked outside. I looked out onto the dark street, seeing the silhouette of someone running frantically down the middle of the street, zigzagging wildly. As the figure got closer, I realized it was a young woman. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties. She wore a white shirt and khakis. Her clothes were soaked in streams of blood that made the fabric cling to her trembling body. I saw a vicious gash bitten into her left shoulder, a wound so deep that the white bone peeked out through the ragged patches of flesh.
“Help me!” she wailed, her eyes wild and panicked. “Why won’t anyone help me?!” She staggered and fell forward, crying and bleeding all over the road. I was about to run outside to see what was wrong with the young woman when I saw another silhouette creeping up behind her.
It looked like the body of a man, but something was wrong. As he drew closer, I caught a glimpse of the man’s face through the dim light. The left side of it was rotted and decayed, while the right looked muscular and healthy. He wore a black suit that looked like little more than tatters. Pieces of it fell off in ragged strips. I could see his left hand was also decomposing. Whatever kind of sickness it was, it seemed to extend to the whole left side of his body.
The stiff, skeletal leg cracked as he dragged it behind him, silently drawing nearer to the young woman. The living side of his face split into an insane rictus grin as he looked down at her. He carried a blood-stained ax that dragged on the pavement behind him with a harsh, metallic groan.
“Get away from me!” the woman screamed at the abomination, trying to kick at him. But she looked weakened from blood loss, and her attempts were feeble and slow. The man laughed, a sound that rang out like the gurgling of blood. He spat squirming maggots from his mouth onto the dark street below. He knelt down before the gasping woman and gave a low whisper. It carried on the dead, silent air.
“So warm,” he murmured, wiping his dead, putrefying fingers across the streams of blood that spurted from her left shoulder. He stuck an inhumanly long, pointed tongue out of his chattering lips and began to lick the blood off his hands. “But not enough. Not nearly enough.”
He stuck the bony, decaying fingers of his left hand into the wound and started pulling at the ragged wound. Blood bubbled out in increasing quantities, covering her body in its wet sheen. The woman jerked, her face turning pale and bloodless. She tried to kick at him, but he only laughed again, gurgling like a man with a slit throat. In horror, I watched him raise the ax above his head. It stood there for a long moment, trembling in his shaking hands like a guillotine blade.
“Please, don’t…” the woman pleaded as he grinned down at her. In a blur, he swung the ax down into her forehead. There was a wet cracking of bone and a ringing of metal. She sat there with her mouth open for what felt like a very long moment. Then, limply, she collapsed to the pavement. A dull thud echoed down the street as her skull smacked the pavement.
Sickened, I closed the blinds on the window and turned away, realizing that Freddie and Iris had been standing right behind me the entire time, watching the horrific display. Freddie was crying quietly into his hands, while Iris looked pale, her green eyes wide and unbelieving. The woman exhaled one last time, a long, drawn-out death gasp, and then everything went silent.
I felt sick and weak. Staggering, I put my hand out against the wall. A wave of nausea rose up my stomach. I ran towards the bathroom, shining the light from my cell phone to light the way. Iris started crying. I heard her frantically try to dial 911 over and over again.
“Dammit, nothing’s working!” she cried. I stumbled into the bathroom and threw up all the popcorn and soda I had consumed that night into the toilet. Covered in sweat, I started wiping my face with toilet paper. I pushed myself up, glancing into the mirror.
A cadaverous version of myself stood there, the dead face showing horror and surprise just like my own. I saw the same high cheekbones, the same shaved head, but in the mirror image, maggots writhed and squirmed in the rancid flesh. I backpedaled into the wall, stuttering something incomprehensible. The reflected image did the same, his lipless mouth opening and closing with silent curses. He wore the same clothes as myself, a black T-shirt and blue jeans, but they were rotted and tattered, as if they had been dug out of a grave.
“What the fuck?” I swore, raising my right hand experimentally. The mirror image did the same, matching every single movement perfectly. At that moment, Iris came running into the bathroom, her soft footsteps thudding gently against the marble floor. I jumped, turning to her.
“There’s someone outside the door,” she whispered, her face pale. I glanced back at the reflection, seeing that the other version was no longer following my movements.
“Watch out!” I cried, but it was too late.
The skull-like face came forward in a blur. His arm shot out towards Iris. The surface of the mirror swirled as if it were made of water when his pale flesh made contact with it. The sharp points of bone of his fingers wrapped around Iris’ neck. Stunned and silent, I watched in horror as he started dragging her into that other world.
“Stop him!” she screamed. “God, make him stop!” I ran forward, grabbing her legs as her head and chest was sucked through. There was a slight popping sound when her body entered the liquid-like surface. I tried to hold on with all of my strength, but whatever abomination was on the other side was strong, stronger than me. His iron grip yanked her out of my hands.
“Dad?” Freddie asked, slinking into the bathroom. His eyes were wide and wild. He looked around, confused. “Where’s Mom? Who’s screaming?” I had to make a decision instantly, I knew. I could either stay with my son, or try to get my wife back. I knew I couldn’t just leave Iris, though. I felt mentally torn. I looked between him and the mirror, my heart quivering with anxiety.
“Freddie, go wait in the living room,” I said. “Hide behind the couch. Don’t answer the door or say anything to anyone, no matter what. I’ll be right back.” I wasn’t sure if I would or not. Before I turned to the mirror, I patted his head. “Remember the rules they read us on the TV.” He nodded, but he was only a seven-year-old boy. How much did he really understand? Hell, how much did I even understand? I hadn’t followed the rules, and now Iris was kidnapped.
I turned back to the mirror, seeing that I had no reflection now. There was no sign of Iris or the rotted corpse with my face, either. Slowly, I walked forward, putting my trembling hand out towards its silvery surface. My fingers went through the mirror as if it were mere air, but I felt something freezing cold ripple around my skin. Pins and needles rushed up my arm. Taking a deep breath in, I pushed myself up on the counter and went all the way through.
***
I fell forward onto the marble surface of the bathroom floor, putting my hands out to break the fall. As I glanced up, I realized how strange everything looked. The world here was in constant motion, as if a fog-like void shimmered over the world. The floor’s surface danced with whorls of shadow. They felt as freezing cold as liquid nitrogen as they passed over my body.
Shivering and hugging myself, I pushed myself up off the floor. The walls and ceilings, too, rippled in the same black currents. I glanced around, seeing the white bathtub filled to the brim with dark blood. It bubbled constantly, as if someone were drowning under its surface. Bloody handprints of all sizes smeared the sides of the tub. The smell of copper grew strong, mixing with the strange smell that emanated from the shadows, a pungent, chemical odor like ammonia.
I passed by the mirror, seeing that here, too, I had no reflection. I felt like a vampire, staring into that blank emptiness. Feeling sick and disoriented, I stumbled forward, afraid to even breathe too loudly. I heard Iris crying and shrieking somewhere nearby.
“Nooo…” she wailed. “Please, stop…” Her voice seemed to be growing fainter and weaker, as if she were being dragged away by a tsunami. I peeked around the corner. Everything looked like nightmarish and strange. The living room looked much longer, stretching out for hundreds of feet. It had the same blue carpet and white walls as the one in my world, but now it was the size of a football stadium. The dark red couch had lengthened to an absurd size, stretching wide enough to fit a hundred people in it. The TV loomed across the room like the screen of a movie theater. It flickered constantly, showing a cacophony of white noise and static interspersed with horrible images: naked corpses with their throats sliced from ear to ear, burning bodies, people falling to their deaths from burning buildings.
But none of that was what made an involuntary gasp of horror rise up my throat. It was the enormous spiderweb spanning the length of the ceiling, fluttering softly in the breeze. In the center of the symmetrical web, I saw Iris, covered in silky thread up to her neck. She was hanging horizontally facing down, her body parallel to the floor. She struggled against the webbing that bound her like steel chains. Her eyes bulged from her head as she stared fixedly at the cadaver approaching her.
Crawling upside-down towards Iris was the monstrous image of myself I had seen in the mirror, but he had transformed into something spidery and eldritch. He skittered along with four arms and four legs now. The emaciated limbs poked out of his tattered rags of clothes, forked and elongated, the skin pale and covered in purple sores and deep gashes. Iris continued to plead and shriek in horror as it drew near. The creature’s chattering fangs and blackened gums approached her neck.
At the penultimate moment, Iris saw me, peeking around the corner of the bathroom. I stood there, unsure of what to do. I thought of trying to scream out, to throw something at the creature, but then what? We would both die, and then who would be left alive to protect Freddie? I didn’t know what to do. These thoughts passed through my head in the space of a single moment as we stared at each other. Her eyes shone with a moment of clarity, even as waves of mortal terror shook her body like a hurricane.
“Save Freddie!” she screamed. “Run! Go, Jack!” The creature noticed her staring at me instantly. He curved his long neck and twisted his spidery limbs, clutching the thick strands of silk with his skeletal limbs. The creature turned to me. He had a face like a skull. His filmy eyes regarded me intently. Silver streams of saliva dripped from his mouth. He gave a wide, insane smile, then turned back to Iris, unhinging his jaw. The pale, dead skin tore with a wet ripping sound. The yellow, sharp points of teeth gleamed darkly in the currents of rippling shadow.
I turned, sprinting back into the darkness of the bathroom as the crunching of bone and the shrieking of my wife followed me out. I had to repress an urge to vomit. With all of the speed I could muster, I staggered forward to the counter, where the mirror sat revealing the image of my house, an image that still lacked my reflection inside. Iris’ pleas and screams rapidly weakened. I heard her choking and gasping. A few moments later, I heard a rapid skittering of many legs approaching the bathroom. I started to pull myself up on the counter to escape this hellish mirror world.
Something creaked in the doorway behind me. I glanced back in fright, seeing the abomination with the eight limbs creeping up behind me. He stood only a few feet away from me now. As my eyes met his white, dead ones, his cadaverous face split into a sickly grin.
***
A wave of adrenaline shook my body. My vision turned white in the darkness. With a pounding heart, I pushed myself up and lunged through the mirror. The eight-limbed abomination with my rotting face gave an insane shriek. I felt a freezing cold hand wrap around my ankle and begin to drag me back.
“No!” I shrieked, trying to kick blindly at the mirror creature’s dead face. “I’ll never go with you! Never!” I smashed my sneaker into his jaw. There was a shattering sound, as if a ceramic vase had been dropped. The chattering of sharp teeth and the shrieking cut off abruptly. Looking back, I saw the corpse’s broken jaw hanging on by only a few shreds of tendons and muscle. The eyes went slack and I felt the grip loosen for the briefest moment. I pushed myself forward and slid through the mirror.
The freezing cold, pins-and-needles sensation returned, running over my body like water. I collapsed head-first onto the sink, rolling onto the floor with a jarring thud. The shrieking of the eight-limbed corpse continued behind me. I saw him trying to force his elongated body through the mirror. The long arms with their sharp fingers reached through, swiping wildly at the air. Before I could escape, one of them came through and cut four deep gashes into my chest. My shirt instantly became soaked in blood as a burning pain ran up my body.
I heard someone pounding at the front door, but in the panic of the moment, I could barely think. As the rest of the cadaverous body tried to push his way through the mirror, I dragged myself out of the bathroom. I slammed the door shut, even as the sounds of breaking and shattering followed me out of the bathroom. Ignoring the pain radiating through my body, I ran over to the couch and began shoving it towards the door.
The door shuddered in its frame. The house and the floor shook as the corpse threw his enormous body into the wood over and over again. Cracks spiderwebbed down the front of it, and I knew it wouldn’t last more than a couple more seconds.
“Freddie!” I screamed, looking around frantically. My heart dropped when I remembered I had told him to hide behind the couch. He was not here, not anywhere in the living room. “Freddie! Where the hell are you?”
“Dad?!” a voice responded from outside. It sounded like Freddie’s voice, but it was eerie, as if his voice had gotten caught between stations on the radio. It sputtered with static. It fell and rose in an ear-splitting scream. “Dad, let me in! Please! They’re going to hurt me!”
I ran to the front door, looking outside, but I saw no sign of Freddie. The sky had changed, though. The Moon had changed from orange to a dark red, the color of a burst blood blister. The rest of the sky was such a dark shade of crimson that it looked almost black. Around my feet, I felt something warm and wet.
“Where are you?” I yelled. “I don’t see…” At that moment, the bathroom door exploded outwards in a shower of nails and splinters, covering my face and body in the debris. The cadaverous face peeked around the corner, as if he were playing hide-and-seek rather than hunting and killing people.
“Fuck!” I swore as I looked down, seeing blood streaming in from under the door. It covered my sneakers up to the tops of the soles as more and more flooded in.
I ran for the stairs as the eight-limbed corpse skittered across the ceiling like a spider. He hung upside-down, the jaw hanging askew on his putrefying skull, the filmy eyes flashing with bloodlust. I was already half-way up the stairs when the corpse jumped down into the lake of blood at the bottom of the stairs. With his elongated, twisted limbs, he began pulling himself towards the first step in a blur, covering his body in the thick, putrid blood that continuously poured in through the bottom of every door.
But something was in the blood, I saw to my horror. I froze in place near the top of the stairs, watching the creature as he struggled to pull himself out of the blood, which was already at knee-height and still rising. There were dark silhouettes slithering through the blood. I saw the head of a black snake peer out at the eight-limbed cadaver. The snake had no eyelids, and its eyes looked as red as the blood it lived in. It wrapped its muscular body around his torso, rising up towards the cadaver’s face. The blood-red eyes met those dead, rotted ones of the corpse as they stared at each other. Then the eldritch snake lunged forward and bit off the corpse’s face.
Other snakes started to rise out of the surface, wrapping around his four legs and slithering up his back. The corpse wailed like a banshee, running blindly into the walls to try to smash the many snakes that suffocated and bit him from all sides. But this only seemed to heighten their hunger and bloodlust.
The sound of shredding flesh and snapping bone followed me as I ran into Freddie’s room and hid. His room was the only one without mirrors in it, I knew, and I wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
***
In the thick curtains of shadow, a small voice rang out, terrified and searching.
“Dad? Is that really you?” Freddie asked, hiding behind his chest of toys. I saw his small body, contorted and pale. His little head poked above the lid.
“Freddie! You’re alive!” I cried, running over and hugging him. Tears streamed down my face. “I thought you were outside. I heard you screaming out there.”
“I heard you and Mom yelling outside, too,” Freddie whispered, his small body trembling as I held him. “I got scared and ran up here. I’m sorry, Dad. Where’s Mom?”
“It’s OK. Thank God you did,” I murmured, remembering the lake of blood downstairs and all those strange, black snakes. “Mom isn’t coming, Freddie.” He went silent then and didn’t ask any more questions. A sick, heavy weight covered my heart.
In the darkness, we hid and waited, though I knew not for what. The smell of copper and iron from all the blood downstairs had become overwhelming. After a few minutes of this, I took my phone out and shone it around experimentally.
I saw a thin layer of blood streaming into the room, rising up the stairs like the waves of a tsunami. It covered the hallway’s hardwood floor, a half-inch thick deep already and growing fast. Dark shapes slithered and writhed in it. Small waves pushed the lake of blood towards us, and within seconds, my shoes were submerged in it.
“Dad?” Freddie asked in a panicked voice. “What’s that? There’s things inside of it…” Without thinking, I picked Freddie up and held him above my body.
“We need to get to the attic!” I whispered to him, sprinting through the rising pool of blood with my son in my arms. “Don’t be afraid, Freddie. We’ll make it.” I had nearly reached the hallway where the pull-cord for the attic stairs hung when something wrapped around my feet. I went flying forwards, dropping Freddie in the pool of blood. He was submerged up to his waist instantly. His small body writhed in terror.
“Help me! Help me!” he screamed, flailing his arms as black snakes circled him like hungry sharks. The one wrapping around my legs continued slithering up my body. A rising sense of horror and panic filled me. At that moment, I knew I was doomed. I only hoped I would see Iris again. Then I noticed spotlights turn on outside, filling the inside of the house with a radiance like the Sun.
All of the windows upstairs suddenly smashed inwards. A spotlight shone through the nearest of them, illuminating me and Freddie in our frantic struggles against the snakes. Men in SWAT gear crawled through the shattered windows. With their gas masks, their faces looked like insects with too many compound eyes.
On their helmets and jackets, I saw a strange symbol: a double-fisted thumb holding a staring, lidless eye. Dozens of them streamed in, shooting the snakes that circled Freddie and me. As the one wrapping around its body slowly wound its way towards my face, one of the black-clad men came up behind it and shot it in the skull. The snake’s body collapsed all around me, its muscles loosening in death. With relief washing over me, I ran to our saviors.
“Get us out of here!” I pleaded. “There’s horrible things happening!” The man nodded in his black military gear, his mask revealing nothing.
“Follow me,” he said dispassionately, starting towards the roof. “You two are the only survivors we’ve found so far. It truly is a miracle anyone’s still alive.” I could only agree silently.
"This must be all over every news channel," I said. The masked man shook his head.
"No one knows about this," he responded. "No one but you two and our group. The media won't say shit. They do what we tell them."
***
I followed the men out onto the roof. Helicopters crisscrossed the skies, illuminating the houses and streets with many bright spotlights. As a helicopter slowly lowered itself down to take Freddie and me away from that pit of nightmares, dropping a rope for us to ascend, I glanced around my town one last time.
Many of the houses were destroyed or burning, sending thick clouds of black smoke into the blood-red sky. Men in full SWAT gear zoomed around the blood flooding the streets in boats, the whirring of the motors echoing like angry hornets. Turning away, I followed Freddie into the helicopter and never returned.
Iris is dead, and Freddie and I have seen enough horrors to scar us for a thousand years. In my heart, I know it is my fault my wife died. I didn’t follow the rules, and she paid the price.
I will hear those dying, panicked screams until my final breath.

My wife, Iris, sat on the couch next to me, holding the bowl of popcorn in her thin hands. On her other side, our little boy, Freddie, sat. He looked just like his mother, with the same dirty blonde hair and faraway eyes, like the eyes of a dreamer. The movie played across our flat-screen TV, some CGI comedy with talking penguins and llamas that could drive cars. It was some garbage from Disney I would never have watched in a million years, but Freddie liked it, so I suffered through it for him.
We had turned off all the lights in the house for the movie. Only the TV’s flickering colors illuminated the room, sending dancing shadows that flashed out behind us.
Suddenly, outside the living room window, a bolt of lightning came down from the sky, splitting a tree in our front yard in two. Light flooded in through the window as if the flash of a nuclear missile were ripping its way across the town. A crash rang out as the tree split down the middle, its massive branches tumbling down onto the lawn. I jumped as the ground shook. More lightning flashed nearby, hitting other houses and lawns on the street.
“Damn, there wasn’t supposed to be any storms,” I said in surprise. The TV had gone black, and now we sat in darkness. For a long moment, I thought the power had gone out.
Abruptly, it came back on with a roar of white noise and a flickering of static. The volume seemed to be increasing by itself, growing into a rushing cacophony like a waterfall. I saw Iris try to scream something, but I could only see her lips move.
As suddenly as it all started, it stopped. The standard “PLEASE STANDBY” screen with a rainbow of blocky colors behind it appeared. There was a clanging, ringing sound that emanated from the speakers, high-pitched and whining like tinnitus. Then text started appearing across the screen. At the same time, a deep, serious voice spoke in the background, like a radio announcer reporting on the death of a President.
“This is the Demon Emergency Alert Broadcast System,” the voice read grimly. “This is not a test. Level five activity has been reported in your area. Do not go outside. Close all blinds, shutters and windows. Lock all doors and close any attached garages. Do not open your doors except to military or police personnel with the proper insignia. Even if someone appears to be in distress, do not open your door to investigate or try to interfere in any way. A temporary quarantine is in effect for your area. Military and police assistance is on the way.
“To ensure the greatest chances of survival during this time of crisis, please abide by the following rules:

1. If blood begins to pour under your door, go to a higher floor immediately. Avoid physical contact with the blood at all costs.
2. All legitimate military and police personnel will have a special insignia on their helmets and jackets, an eye contained in a double-thumbed fist. Only accompany them if they have this insignia- otherwise, they are imposters.
3. Avoid mirrors for the duration of the emergency.”

The voice cut out abruptly, slowing down in a mechanical whine. Static started flashing across the TV, covering the “PLEASE STANDBY” message that had returned in blocky letters. At that moment, the lights went out. They came back on a couple seconds later, brightening and dimming, before the power failed again. This time, the electricity did not come back on.
“What the fuck?” Iris whispered next to me, taking out her phone and shining the light across the dark living room. “That was pretty weird. Everything looks different outside, too. I was just outside an hour ago and the Moon didn’t look anything like that.” She pointed. I got up, realizing she was right. The nighttime sky outside looked strange. I looked out the front window, seeing the Moon was cast in a fluorescent orange light. The cloudless sky had a dark red glow to it, as if some kind of eerie smog had covered everything. I had seen similar things happen after massive forest fires in the past.
“What happened, Dad?” Freddie asked in his small voice. “Where’s the movie?”
“I think we lost power, little man,” I said, ruffling his hair in a nonchalant manner. I didn’t really believe the emergency broadcast, after all. I figured some teenager had hacked the TV station and decided to play a prank, or perhaps some disgruntled employee had done it on his last day as a kind of “Fuck you” to the station. I had heard of similar things happening before. It was somewhat strange how the power had gone out and the sky had changed, but I felt sure that it could all be logically explained.
Someone shrieked outside. I looked out onto the dark street, seeing the silhouette of someone running frantically down the middle of the street, zigzagging wildly. As the figure got closer, I realized it was a young woman. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties. She wore a white shirt and khakis. Her clothes were soaked in streams of blood that made the fabric cling to her trembling body. I saw a vicious gash bitten into her left shoulder, a wound so deep that the white bone peeked out through the ragged patches of flesh.
“Help me!” she wailed, her eyes wild and panicked. “Why won’t anyone help me?!” She staggered and fell forward, crying and bleeding all over the road. I was about to run outside to see what was wrong with the young woman when I saw another silhouette creeping up behind her.
It looked like the body of a man, but something was wrong. As he drew closer, I caught a glimpse of the man’s face through the dim light. The left side of it was rotted and decayed, while the right looked muscular and healthy. He wore a black suit that looked like little more than tatters. Pieces of it fell off in ragged strips. I could see his left hand was also decomposing. Whatever kind of sickness it was, it seemed to extend to the whole left side of his body.
The stiff, skeletal leg cracked as he dragged it behind him, silently drawing nearer to the young woman. The living side of his face split into an insane rictus grin as he looked down at her. He carried a blood-stained ax that dragged on the pavement behind him with a harsh, metallic groan.
“Get away from me!” the woman screamed at the abomination, trying to kick at him. But she looked weakened from blood loss, and her attempts were feeble and slow. The man laughed, a sound that rang out like the gurgling of blood. He spat squirming maggots from his mouth onto the dark street below. He knelt down before the gasping woman and gave a low whisper. It carried on the dead, silent air.
“So warm,” he murmured, wiping his dead, putrefying fingers across the streams of blood that spurted from her left shoulder. He stuck an inhumanly long, pointed tongue out of his chattering lips and began to lick the blood off his hands. “But not enough. Not nearly enough.”
He stuck the bony, decaying fingers of his left hand into the wound and started pulling at the ragged wound. Blood bubbled out in increasing quantities, covering her body in its wet sheen. The woman jerked, her face turning pale and bloodless. She tried to kick at him, but he only laughed again, gurgling like a man with a slit throat. In horror, I watched him raise the ax above his head. It stood there for a long moment, trembling in his shaking hands like a guillotine blade.
“Please, don’t…” the woman pleaded as he grinned down at her. In a blur, he swung the ax down into her forehead. There was a wet cracking of bone and a ringing of metal. She sat there with her mouth open for what felt like a very long moment. Then, limply, she collapsed to the pavement. A dull thud echoed down the street as her skull smacked the pavement.
Sickened, I closed the blinds on the window and turned away, realizing that Freddie and Iris had been standing right behind me the entire time, watching the horrific display. Freddie was crying quietly into his hands, while Iris looked pale, her green eyes wide and unbelieving. The woman exhaled one last time, a long, drawn-out death gasp, and then everything went silent.
I felt sick and weak. Staggering, I put my hand out against the wall. A wave of nausea rose up my stomach. I ran towards the bathroom, shining the light from my cell phone to light the way. Iris started crying. I heard her frantically try to dial 911 over and over again.
“Dammit, nothing’s working!” she cried. I stumbled into the bathroom and threw up all the popcorn and soda I had consumed that night into the toilet. Covered in sweat, I started wiping my face with toilet paper. I pushed myself up, glancing into the mirror.
A cadaverous version of myself stood there, the dead face showing horror and surprise just like my own. I saw the same high cheekbones, the same shaved head, but in the mirror image, maggots writhed and squirmed in the rancid flesh. I backpedaled into the wall, stuttering something incomprehensible. The reflected image did the same, his lipless mouth opening and closing with silent curses. He wore the same clothes as myself, a black T-shirt and blue jeans, but they were rotted and tattered, as if they had been dug out of a grave.
“What the fuck?” I swore, raising my right hand experimentally. The mirror image did the same, matching every single movement perfectly. At that moment, Iris came running into the bathroom, her soft footsteps thudding gently against the marble floor. I jumped, turning to her.
“There’s someone outside the door,” she whispered, her face pale. I glanced back at the reflection, seeing that the other version was no longer following my movements.
“Watch out!” I cried, but it was too late.
The skull-like face came forward in a blur. His arm shot out towards Iris. The surface of the mirror swirled as if it were made of water when his pale flesh made contact with it. The sharp points of bone of his fingers wrapped around Iris’ neck. Stunned and silent, I watched in horror as he started dragging her into that other world.
“Stop him!” she screamed. “God, make him stop!” I ran forward, grabbing her legs as her head and chest was sucked through. There was a slight popping sound when her body entered the liquid-like surface. I tried to hold on with all of my strength, but whatever abomination was on the other side was strong, stronger than me. His iron grip yanked her out of my hands.
“Dad?” Freddie asked, slinking into the bathroom. His eyes were wide and wild. He looked around, confused. “Where’s Mom? Who’s screaming?” I had to make a decision instantly, I knew. I could either stay with my son, or try to get my wife back. I knew I couldn’t just leave Iris, though. I felt mentally torn. I looked between him and the mirror, my heart quivering with anxiety.
“Freddie, go wait in the living room,” I said. “Hide behind the couch. Don’t answer the door or say anything to anyone, no matter what. I’ll be right back.” I wasn’t sure if I would or not. Before I turned to the mirror, I patted his head. “Remember the rules they read us on the TV.” He nodded, but he was only a seven-year-old boy. How much did he really understand? Hell, how much did I even understand? I hadn’t followed the rules, and now Iris was kidnapped.
I turned back to the mirror, seeing that I had no reflection now. There was no sign of Iris or the rotted corpse with my face, either. Slowly, I walked forward, putting my trembling hand out towards its silvery surface. My fingers went through the mirror as if it were mere air, but I felt something freezing cold ripple around my skin. Pins and needles rushed up my arm. Taking a deep breath in, I pushed myself up on the counter and went all the way through.
***
I fell forward onto the marble surface of the bathroom floor, putting my hands out to break the fall. As I glanced up, I realized how strange everything looked. The world here was in constant motion, as if a fog-like void shimmered over the world. The floor’s surface danced with whorls of shadow. They felt as freezing cold as liquid nitrogen as they passed over my body.
Shivering and hugging myself, I pushed myself up off the floor. The walls and ceilings, too, rippled in the same black currents. I glanced around, seeing the white bathtub filled to the brim with dark blood. It bubbled constantly, as if someone were drowning under its surface. Bloody handprints of all sizes smeared the sides of the tub. The smell of copper grew strong, mixing with the strange smell that emanated from the shadows, a pungent, chemical odor like ammonia.
I passed by the mirror, seeing that here, too, I had no reflection. I felt like a vampire, staring into that blank emptiness. Feeling sick and disoriented, I stumbled forward, afraid to even breathe too loudly. I heard Iris crying and shrieking somewhere nearby.
“Nooo…” she wailed. “Please, stop…” Her voice seemed to be growing fainter and weaker, as if she were being dragged away by a tsunami. I peeked around the corner. Everything looked like nightmarish and strange. The living room looked much longer, stretching out for hundreds of feet. It had the same blue carpet and white walls as the one in my world, but now it was the size of a football stadium. The dark red couch had lengthened to an absurd size, stretching wide enough to fit a hundred people in it. The TV loomed across the room like the screen of a movie theater. It flickered constantly, showing a cacophony of white noise and static interspersed with horrible images: naked corpses with their throats sliced from ear to ear, burning bodies, people falling to their deaths from burning buildings.
But none of that was what made an involuntary gasp of horror rise up my throat. It was the enormous spiderweb spanning the length of the ceiling, fluttering softly in the breeze. In the center of the symmetrical web, I saw Iris, covered in silky thread up to her neck. She was hanging horizontally facing down, her body parallel to the floor. She struggled against the webbing that bound her like steel chains. Her eyes bulged from her head as she stared fixedly at the cadaver approaching her.
Crawling upside-down towards Iris was the monstrous image of myself I had seen in the mirror, but he had transformed into something spidery and eldritch. He skittered along with four arms and four legs now. The emaciated limbs poked out of his tattered rags of clothes, forked and elongated, the skin pale and covered in purple sores and deep gashes. Iris continued to plead and shriek in horror as it drew near. The creature’s chattering fangs and blackened gums approached her neck.
At the penultimate moment, Iris saw me, peeking around the corner of the bathroom. I stood there, unsure of what to do. I thought of trying to scream out, to throw something at the creature, but then what? We would both die, and then who would be left alive to protect Freddie? I didn’t know what to do. These thoughts passed through my head in the space of a single moment as we stared at each other. Her eyes shone with a moment of clarity, even as waves of mortal terror shook her body like a hurricane.
“Save Freddie!” she screamed. “Run! Go, Jack!” The creature noticed her staring at me instantly. He curved his long neck and twisted his spidery limbs, clutching the thick strands of silk with his skeletal limbs. The creature turned to me. He had a face like a skull. His filmy eyes regarded me intently. Silver streams of saliva dripped from his mouth. He gave a wide, insane smile, then turned back to Iris, unhinging his jaw. The pale, dead skin tore with a wet ripping sound. The yellow, sharp points of teeth gleamed darkly in the currents of rippling shadow.
I turned, sprinting back into the darkness of the bathroom as the crunching of bone and the shrieking of my wife followed me out. I had to repress an urge to vomit. With all of the speed I could muster, I staggered forward to the counter, where the mirror sat revealing the image of my house, an image that still lacked my reflection inside. Iris’ pleas and screams rapidly weakened. I heard her choking and gasping. A few moments later, I heard a rapid skittering of many legs approaching the bathroom. I started to pull myself up on the counter to escape this hellish mirror world.
Something creaked in the doorway behind me. I glanced back in fright, seeing the abomination with the eight limbs creeping up behind me. He stood only a few feet away from me now. As my eyes met his white, dead ones, his cadaverous face split into a sickly grin.
***
A wave of adrenaline shook my body. My vision turned white in the darkness. With a pounding heart, I pushed myself up and lunged through the mirror. The eight-limbed abomination with my rotting face gave an insane shriek. I felt a freezing cold hand wrap around my ankle and begin to drag me back.
“No!” I shrieked, trying to kick blindly at the mirror creature’s dead face. “I’ll never go with you! Never!” I smashed my sneaker into his jaw. There was a shattering sound, as if a ceramic vase had been dropped. The chattering of sharp teeth and the shrieking cut off abruptly. Looking back, I saw the corpse’s broken jaw hanging on by only a few shreds of tendons and muscle. The eyes went slack and I felt the grip loosen for the briefest moment. I pushed myself forward and slid through the mirror.
The freezing cold, pins-and-needles sensation returned, running over my body like water. I collapsed head-first onto the sink, rolling onto the floor with a jarring thud. The shrieking of the eight-limbed corpse continued behind me. I saw him trying to force his elongated body through the mirror. The long arms with their sharp fingers reached through, swiping wildly at the air. Before I could escape, one of them came through and cut four deep gashes into my chest. My shirt instantly became soaked in blood as a burning pain ran up my body.
I heard someone pounding at the front door, but in the panic of the moment, I could barely think. As the rest of the cadaverous body tried to push his way through the mirror, I dragged myself out of the bathroom. I slammed the door shut, even as the sounds of breaking and shattering followed me out of the bathroom. Ignoring the pain radiating through my body, I ran over to the couch and began shoving it towards the door.
The door shuddered in its frame. The house and the floor shook as the corpse threw his enormous body into the wood over and over again. Cracks spiderwebbed down the front of it, and I knew it wouldn’t last more than a couple more seconds.
“Freddie!” I screamed, looking around frantically. My heart dropped when I remembered I had told him to hide behind the couch. He was not here, not anywhere in the living room. “Freddie! Where the hell are you?”
“Dad?!” a voice responded from outside. It sounded like Freddie’s voice, but it was eerie, as if his voice had gotten caught between stations on the radio. It sputtered with static. It fell and rose in an ear-splitting scream. “Dad, let me in! Please! They’re going to hurt me!”
I ran to the front door, looking outside, but I saw no sign of Freddie. The sky had changed, though. The Moon had changed from orange to a dark red, the color of a burst blood blister. The rest of the sky was such a dark shade of crimson that it looked almost black. Around my feet, I felt something warm and wet.
“Where are you?” I yelled. “I don’t see…” At that moment, the bathroom door exploded outwards in a shower of nails and splinters, covering my face and body in the debris. The cadaverous face peeked around the corner, as if he were playing hide-and-seek rather than hunting and killing people.
“Fuck!” I swore as I looked down, seeing blood streaming in from under the door. It covered my sneakers up to the tops of the soles as more and more flooded in.
I ran for the stairs as the eight-limbed corpse skittered across the ceiling like a spider. He hung upside-down, the jaw hanging askew on his putrefying skull, the filmy eyes flashing with bloodlust. I was already half-way up the stairs when the corpse jumped down into the lake of blood at the bottom of the stairs. With his elongated, twisted limbs, he began pulling himself towards the first step in a blur, covering his body in the thick, putrid blood that continuously poured in through the bottom of every door.
But something was in the blood, I saw to my horror. I froze in place near the top of the stairs, watching the creature as he struggled to pull himself out of the blood, which was already at knee-height and still rising. There were dark silhouettes slithering through the blood. I saw the head of a black snake peer out at the eight-limbed cadaver. The snake had no eyelids, and its eyes looked as red as the blood it lived in. It wrapped its muscular body around his torso, rising up towards the cadaver’s face. The blood-red eyes met those dead, rotted ones of the corpse as they stared at each other. Then the eldritch snake lunged forward and bit off the corpse’s face.
Other snakes started to rise out of the surface, wrapping around his four legs and slithering up his back. The corpse wailed like a banshee, running blindly into the walls to try to smash the many snakes that suffocated and bit him from all sides. But this only seemed to heighten their hunger and bloodlust.
The sound of shredding flesh and snapping bone followed me as I ran into Freddie’s room and hid. His room was the only one without mirrors in it, I knew, and I wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
***
In the thick curtains of shadow, a small voice rang out, terrified and searching.
“Dad? Is that really you?” Freddie asked, hiding behind his chest of toys. I saw his small body, contorted and pale. His little head poked above the lid.
“Freddie! You’re alive!” I cried, running over and hugging him. Tears streamed down my face. “I thought you were outside. I heard you screaming out there.”
“I heard you and Mom yelling outside, too,” Freddie whispered, his small body trembling as I held him. “I got scared and ran up here. I’m sorry, Dad. Where’s Mom?”
“It’s OK. Thank God you did,” I murmured, remembering the lake of blood downstairs and all those strange, black snakes. “Mom isn’t coming, Freddie.” He went silent then and didn’t ask any more questions. A sick, heavy weight covered my heart.
In the darkness, we hid and waited, though I knew not for what. The smell of copper and iron from all the blood downstairs had become overwhelming. After a few minutes of this, I took my phone out and shone it around experimentally.
I saw a thin layer of blood streaming into the room, rising up the stairs like the waves of a tsunami. It covered the hallway’s hardwood floor, a half-inch thick deep already and growing fast. Dark shapes slithered and writhed in it. Small waves pushed the lake of blood towards us, and within seconds, my shoes were submerged in it.
“Dad?” Freddie asked in a panicked voice. “What’s that? There’s things inside of it…” Without thinking, I picked Freddie up and held him above my body.
“We need to get to the attic!” I whispered to him, sprinting through the rising pool of blood with my son in my arms. “Don’t be afraid, Freddie. We’ll make it.” I had nearly reached the hallway where the pull-cord for the attic stairs hung when something wrapped around my feet. I went flying forwards, dropping Freddie in the pool of blood. He was submerged up to his waist instantly. His small body writhed in terror.
“Help me! Help me!” he screamed, flailing his arms as black snakes circled him like hungry sharks. The one wrapping around my legs continued slithering up my body. A rising sense of horror and panic filled me. At that moment, I knew I was doomed. I only hoped I would see Iris again. Then I noticed spotlights turn on outside, filling the inside of the house with a radiance like the Sun.
All of the windows upstairs suddenly smashed inwards. A spotlight shone through the nearest of them, illuminating me and Freddie in our frantic struggles against the snakes. Men in SWAT gear crawled through the shattered windows. With their gas masks, their faces looked like insects with too many compound eyes.
On their helmets and jackets, I saw a strange symbol: a double-fisted thumb holding a staring, lidless eye. Dozens of them streamed in, shooting the snakes that circled Freddie and me. As the one wrapping around its body slowly wound its way towards my face, one of the black-clad men came up behind it and shot it in the skull. The snake’s body collapsed all around me, its muscles loosening in death. With relief washing over me, I ran to our saviors.
“Get us out of here!” I pleaded. “There’s horrible things happening!” The man nodded in his black military gear, his mask revealing nothing.
“Follow me,” he said dispassionately, starting towards the roof. “You two are the only survivors we’ve found so far. It truly is a miracle anyone’s still alive.” I could only agree silently.
"This must be all over every news channel," I said. The masked man shook his head.
"No one knows about this," he responded. "No one but you two and our group. The media won't say shit. They do what we tell them."
***
I followed the men out onto the roof. Helicopters crisscrossed the skies, illuminating the houses and streets with many bright spotlights. As a helicopter slowly lowered itself down to take Freddie and me away from that pit of nightmares, dropping a rope for us to ascend, I glanced around my town one last time.
Many of the houses were destroyed or burning, sending thick clouds of black smoke into the blood-red sky. Men in full SWAT gear zoomed around the blood flooding the streets in boats, the whirring of the motors echoing like angry hornets. Turning away, I followed Freddie into the helicopter and never returned.
Iris is dead, and Freddie and I have seen enough horrors to scar us for a thousand years. In my heart, I know it is my fault my wife died. I didn’t follow the rules, and she paid the price.
I will hear those dying, panicked screams until my final breath.

My wife, Iris, sat on the couch next to me, holding the bowl of popcorn in her thin hands. On her other side, our little boy, Freddie, sat. He looked just like his mother, with the same dirty blonde hair and faraway eyes, like the eyes of a dreamer. The movie played across our flat-screen TV, some CGI comedy with talking penguins and llamas that could drive cars. It was some garbage from Disney I would never have watched in a million years, but Freddie liked it, so I suffered through it for him.
We had turned off all the lights in the house for the movie. Only the TV’s flickering colors illuminated the room, sending dancing shadows that flashed out behind us.
Suddenly, outside the living room window, a bolt of lightning came down from the sky, splitting a tree in our front yard in two. Light flooded in through the window as if the flash of a nuclear missile were ripping its way across the town. A crash rang out as the tree split down the middle, its massive branches tumbling down onto the lawn. I jumped as the ground shook. More lightning flashed nearby, hitting other houses and lawns on the street.
“Damn, there wasn’t supposed to be any storms,” I said in surprise. The TV had gone black, and now we sat in darkness. For a long moment, I thought the power had gone out.
Abruptly, it came back on with a roar of white noise and a flickering of static. The volume seemed to be increasing by itself, growing into a rushing cacophony like a waterfall. I saw Iris try to scream something, but I could only see her lips move.
As suddenly as it all started, it stopped. The standard “PLEASE STANDBY” screen with a rainbow of blocky colors behind it appeared. There was a clanging, ringing sound that emanated from the speakers, high-pitched and whining like tinnitus. Then text started appearing across the screen. At the same time, a deep, serious voice spoke in the background, like a radio announcer reporting on the death of a President.
“This is the Demon Emergency Alert Broadcast System,” the voice read grimly. “This is not a test. Level five activity has been reported in your area. Do not go outside. Close all blinds, shutters and windows. Lock all doors and close any attached garages. Do not open your doors except to military or police personnel with the proper insignia. Even if someone appears to be in distress, do not open your door to investigate or try to interfere in any way. A temporary quarantine is in effect for your area. Military and police assistance is on the way.
“To ensure the greatest chances of survival during this time of crisis, please abide by the following rules:

1. If blood begins to pour under your door, go to a higher floor immediately. Avoid physical contact with the blood at all costs.
2. All legitimate military and police personnel will have a special insignia on their helmets and jackets, an eye contained in a double-thumbed fist. Only accompany them if they have this insignia- otherwise, they are imposters.
3. Avoid mirrors for the duration of the emergency.”

The voice cut out abruptly, slowing down in a mechanical whine. Static started flashing across the TV, covering the “PLEASE STANDBY” message that had returned in blocky letters. At that moment, the lights went out. They came back on a couple seconds later, brightening and dimming, before the power failed again. This time, the electricity did not come back on.
“What the fuck?” Iris whispered next to me, taking out her phone and shining the light across the dark living room. “That was pretty weird. Everything looks different outside, too. I was just outside an hour ago and the Moon didn’t look anything like that.” She pointed. I got up, realizing she was right. The nighttime sky outside looked strange. I looked out the front window, seeing the Moon was cast in a fluorescent orange light. The cloudless sky had a dark red glow to it, as if some kind of eerie smog had covered everything. I had seen similar things happen after massive forest fires in the past.
“What happened, Dad?” Freddie asked in his small voice. “Where’s the movie?”
“I think we lost power, little man,” I said, ruffling his hair in a nonchalant manner. I didn’t really believe the emergency broadcast, after all. I figured some teenager had hacked the TV station and decided to play a prank, or perhaps some disgruntled employee had done it on his last day as a kind of “Fuck you” to the station. I had heard of similar things happening before. It was somewhat strange how the power had gone out and the sky had changed, but I felt sure that it could all be logically explained.
Someone shrieked outside. I looked out onto the dark street, seeing the silhouette of someone running frantically down the middle of the street, zigzagging wildly. As the figure got closer, I realized it was a young woman. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties. She wore a white shirt and khakis. Her clothes were soaked in streams of blood that made the fabric cling to her trembling body. I saw a vicious gash bitten into her left shoulder, a wound so deep that the white bone peeked out through the ragged patches of flesh.
“Help me!” she wailed, her eyes wild and panicked. “Why won’t anyone help me?!” She staggered and fell forward, crying and bleeding all over the road. I was about to run outside to see what was wrong with the young woman when I saw another silhouette creeping up behind her.
It looked like the body of a man, but something was wrong. As he drew closer, I caught a glimpse of the man’s face through the dim light. The left side of it was rotted and decayed, while the right looked muscular and healthy. He wore a black suit that looked like little more than tatters. Pieces of it fell off in ragged strips. I could see his left hand was also decomposing. Whatever kind of sickness it was, it seemed to extend to the whole left side of his body.
The stiff, skeletal leg cracked as he dragged it behind him, silently drawing nearer to the young woman. The living side of his face split into an insane rictus grin as he looked down at her. He carried a blood-stained ax that dragged on the pavement behind him with a harsh, metallic groan.
“Get away from me!” the woman screamed at the abomination, trying to kick at him. But she looked weakened from blood loss, and her attempts were feeble and slow. The man laughed, a sound that rang out like the gurgling of blood. He spat squirming maggots from his mouth onto the dark street below. He knelt down before the gasping woman and gave a low whisper. It carried on the dead, silent air.
“So warm,” he murmured, wiping his dead, putrefying fingers across the streams of blood that spurted from her left shoulder. He stuck an inhumanly long, pointed tongue out of his chattering lips and began to lick the blood off his hands. “But not enough. Not nearly enough.”
He stuck the bony, decaying fingers of his left hand into the wound and started pulling at the ragged wound. Blood bubbled out in increasing quantities, covering her body in its wet sheen. The woman jerked, her face turning pale and bloodless. She tried to kick at him, but he only laughed again, gurgling like a man with a slit throat. In horror, I watched him raise the ax above his head. It stood there for a long moment, trembling in his shaking hands like a guillotine blade.
“Please, don’t…” the woman pleaded as he grinned down at her. In a blur, he swung the ax down into her forehead. There was a wet cracking of bone and a ringing of metal. She sat there with her mouth open for what felt like a very long moment. Then, limply, she collapsed to the pavement. A dull thud echoed down the street as her skull smacked the pavement.
Sickened, I closed the blinds on the window and turned away, realizing that Freddie and Iris had been standing right behind me the entire time, watching the horrific display. Freddie was crying quietly into his hands, while Iris looked pale, her green eyes wide and unbelieving. The woman exhaled one last time, a long, drawn-out death gasp, and then everything went silent.
I felt sick and weak. Staggering, I put my hand out against the wall. A wave of nausea rose up my stomach. I ran towards the bathroom, shining the light from my cell phone to light the way. Iris started crying. I heard her frantically try to dial 911 over and over again.
“Dammit, nothing’s working!” she cried. I stumbled into the bathroom and threw up all the popcorn and soda I had consumed that night into the toilet. Covered in sweat, I started wiping my face with toilet paper. I pushed myself up, glancing into the mirror.
A cadaverous version of myself stood there, the dead face showing horror and surprise just like my own. I saw the same high cheekbones, the same shaved head, but in the mirror image, maggots writhed and squirmed in the rancid flesh. I backpedaled into the wall, stuttering something incomprehensible. The reflected image did the same, his lipless mouth opening and closing with silent curses. He wore the same clothes as myself, a black T-shirt and blue jeans, but they were rotted and tattered, as if they had been dug out of a grave.
“What the fuck?” I swore, raising my right hand experimentally. The mirror image did the same, matching every single movement perfectly. At that moment, Iris came running into the bathroom, her soft footsteps thudding gently against the marble floor. I jumped, turning to her.
“There’s someone outside the door,” she whispered, her face pale. I glanced back at the reflection, seeing that the other version was no longer following my movements.
“Watch out!” I cried, but it was too late.
The skull-like face came forward in a blur. His arm shot out towards Iris. The surface of the mirror swirled as if it were made of water when his pale flesh made contact with it. The sharp points of bone of his fingers wrapped around Iris’ neck. Stunned and silent, I watched in horror as he started dragging her into that other world.
“Stop him!” she screamed. “God, make him stop!” I ran forward, grabbing her legs as her head and chest was sucked through. There was a slight popping sound when her body entered the liquid-like surface. I tried to hold on with all of my strength, but whatever abomination was on the other side was strong, stronger than me. His iron grip yanked her out of my hands.
“Dad?” Freddie asked, slinking into the bathroom. His eyes were wide and wild. He looked around, confused. “Where’s Mom? Who’s screaming?” I had to make a decision instantly, I knew. I could either stay with my son, or try to get my wife back. I knew I couldn’t just leave Iris, though. I felt mentally torn. I looked between him and the mirror, my heart quivering with anxiety.
“Freddie, go wait in the living room,” I said. “Hide behind the couch. Don’t answer the door or say anything to anyone, no matter what. I’ll be right back.” I wasn’t sure if I would or not. Before I turned to the mirror, I patted his head. “Remember the rules they read us on the TV.” He nodded, but he was only a seven-year-old boy. How much did he really understand? Hell, how much did I even understand? I hadn’t followed the rules, and now Iris was kidnapped.
I turned back to the mirror, seeing that I had no reflection now. There was no sign of Iris or the rotted corpse with my face, either. Slowly, I walked forward, putting my trembling hand out towards its silvery surface. My fingers went through the mirror as if it were mere air, but I felt something freezing cold ripple around my skin. Pins and needles rushed up my arm. Taking a deep breath in, I pushed myself up on the counter and went all the way through.
***
I fell forward onto the marble surface of the bathroom floor, putting my hands out to break the fall. As I glanced up, I realized how strange everything looked. The world here was in constant motion, as if a fog-like void shimmered over the world. The floor’s surface danced with whorls of shadow. They felt as freezing cold as liquid nitrogen as they passed over my body.
Shivering and hugging myself, I pushed myself up off the floor. The walls and ceilings, too, rippled in the same black currents. I glanced around, seeing the white bathtub filled to the brim with dark blood. It bubbled constantly, as if someone were drowning under its surface. Bloody handprints of all sizes smeared the sides of the tub. The smell of copper grew strong, mixing with the strange smell that emanated from the shadows, a pungent, chemical odor like ammonia.
I passed by the mirror, seeing that here, too, I had no reflection. I felt like a vampire, staring into that blank emptiness. Feeling sick and disoriented, I stumbled forward, afraid to even breathe too loudly. I heard Iris crying and shrieking somewhere nearby.
“Nooo…” she wailed. “Please, stop…” Her voice seemed to be growing fainter and weaker, as if she were being dragged away by a tsunami. I peeked around the corner. Everything looked like nightmarish and strange. The living room looked much longer, stretching out for hundreds of feet. It had the same blue carpet and white walls as the one in my world, but now it was the size of a football stadium. The dark red couch had lengthened to an absurd size, stretching wide enough to fit a hundred people in it. The TV loomed across the room like the screen of a movie theater. It flickered constantly, showing a cacophony of white noise and static interspersed with horrible images: naked corpses with their throats sliced from ear to ear, burning bodies, people falling to their deaths from burning buildings.
But none of that was what made an involuntary gasp of horror rise up my throat. It was the enormous spiderweb spanning the length of the ceiling, fluttering softly in the breeze. In the center of the symmetrical web, I saw Iris, covered in silky thread up to her neck. She was hanging horizontally facing down, her body parallel to the floor. She struggled against the webbing that bound her like steel chains. Her eyes bulged from her head as she stared fixedly at the cadaver approaching her.
Crawling upside-down towards Iris was the monstrous image of myself I had seen in the mirror, but he had transformed into something spidery and eldritch. He skittered along with four arms and four legs now. The emaciated limbs poked out of his tattered rags of clothes, forked and elongated, the skin pale and covered in purple sores and deep gashes. Iris continued to plead and shriek in horror as it drew near. The creature’s chattering fangs and blackened gums approached her neck.
At the penultimate moment, Iris saw me, peeking around the corner of the bathroom. I stood there, unsure of what to do. I thought of trying to scream out, to throw something at the creature, but then what? We would both die, and then who would be left alive to protect Freddie? I didn’t know what to do. These thoughts passed through my head in the space of a single moment as we stared at each other. Her eyes shone with a moment of clarity, even as waves of mortal terror shook her body like a hurricane.
“Save Freddie!” she screamed. “Run! Go, Jack!” The creature noticed her staring at me instantly. He curved his long neck and twisted his spidery limbs, clutching the thick strands of silk with his skeletal limbs. The creature turned to me. He had a face like a skull. His filmy eyes regarded me intently. Silver streams of saliva dripped from his mouth. He gave a wide, insane smile, then turned back to Iris, unhinging his jaw. The pale, dead skin tore with a wet ripping sound. The yellow, sharp points of teeth gleamed darkly in the currents of rippling shadow.
I turned, sprinting back into the darkness of the bathroom as the crunching of bone and the shrieking of my wife followed me out. I had to repress an urge to vomit. With all of the speed I could muster, I staggered forward to the counter, where the mirror sat revealing the image of my house, an image that still lacked my reflection inside. Iris’ pleas and screams rapidly weakened. I heard her choking and gasping. A few moments later, I heard a rapid skittering of many legs approaching the bathroom. I started to pull myself up on the counter to escape this hellish mirror world.
Something creaked in the doorway behind me. I glanced back in fright, seeing the abomination with the eight limbs creeping up behind me. He stood only a few feet away from me now. As my eyes met his white, dead ones, his cadaverous face split into a sickly grin.
***
A wave of adrenaline shook my body. My vision turned white in the darkness. With a pounding heart, I pushed myself up and lunged through the mirror. The eight-limbed abomination with my rotting face gave an insane shriek. I felt a freezing cold hand wrap around my ankle and begin to drag me back.
“No!” I shrieked, trying to kick blindly at the mirror creature’s dead face. “I’ll never go with you! Never!” I smashed my sneaker into his jaw. There was a shattering sound, as if a ceramic vase had been dropped. The chattering of sharp teeth and the shrieking cut off abruptly. Looking back, I saw the corpse’s broken jaw hanging on by only a few shreds of tendons and muscle. The eyes went slack and I felt the grip loosen for the briefest moment. I pushed myself forward and slid through the mirror.
The freezing cold, pins-and-needles sensation returned, running over my body like water. I collapsed head-first onto the sink, rolling onto the floor with a jarring thud. The shrieking of the eight-limbed corpse continued behind me. I saw him trying to force his elongated body through the mirror. The long arms with their sharp fingers reached through, swiping wildly at the air. Before I could escape, one of them came through and cut four deep gashes into my chest. My shirt instantly became soaked in blood as a burning pain ran up my body.
I heard someone pounding at the front door, but in the panic of the moment, I could barely think. As the rest of the cadaverous body tried to push his way through the mirror, I dragged myself out of the bathroom. I slammed the door shut, even as the sounds of breaking and shattering followed me out of the bathroom. Ignoring the pain radiating through my body, I ran over to the couch and began shoving it towards the door.
The door shuddered in its frame. The house and the floor shook as the corpse threw his enormous body into the wood over and over again. Cracks spiderwebbed down the front of it, and I knew it wouldn’t last more than a couple more seconds.
“Freddie!” I screamed, looking around frantically. My heart dropped when I remembered I had told him to hide behind the couch. He was not here, not anywhere in the living room. “Freddie! Where the hell are you?”
“Dad?!” a voice responded from outside. It sounded like Freddie’s voice, but it was eerie, as if his voice had gotten caught between stations on the radio. It sputtered with static. It fell and rose in an ear-splitting scream. “Dad, let me in! Please! They’re going to hurt me!”
I ran to the front door, looking outside, but I saw no sign of Freddie. The sky had changed, though. The Moon had changed from orange to a dark red, the color of a burst blood blister. The rest of the sky was such a dark shade of crimson that it looked almost black. Around my feet, I felt something warm and wet.
“Where are you?” I yelled. “I don’t see…” At that moment, the bathroom door exploded outwards in a shower of nails and splinters, covering my face and body in the debris. The cadaverous face peeked around the corner, as if he were playing hide-and-seek rather than hunting and killing people.
“Fuck!” I swore as I looked down, seeing blood streaming in from under the door. It covered my sneakers up to the tops of the soles as more and more flooded in.
I ran for the stairs as the eight-limbed corpse skittered across the ceiling like a spider. He hung upside-down, the jaw hanging askew on his putrefying skull, the filmy eyes flashing with bloodlust. I was already half-way up the stairs when the corpse jumped down into the lake of blood at the bottom of the stairs. With his elongated, twisted limbs, he began pulling himself towards the first step in a blur, covering his body in the thick, putrid blood that continuously poured in through the bottom of every door.
But something was in the blood, I saw to my horror. I froze in place near the top of the stairs, watching the creature as he struggled to pull himself out of the blood, which was already at knee-height and still rising. There were dark silhouettes slithering through the blood. I saw the head of a black snake peer out at the eight-limbed cadaver. The snake had no eyelids, and its eyes looked as red as the blood it lived in. It wrapped its muscular body around his torso, rising up towards the cadaver’s face. The blood-red eyes met those dead, rotted ones of the corpse as they stared at each other. Then the eldritch snake lunged forward and bit off the corpse’s face.
Other snakes started to rise out of the surface, wrapping around his four legs and slithering up his back. The corpse wailed like a banshee, running blindly into the walls to try to smash the many snakes that suffocated and bit him from all sides. But this only seemed to heighten their hunger and bloodlust.
The sound of shredding flesh and snapping bone followed me as I ran into Freddie’s room and hid. His room was the only one without mirrors in it, I knew, and I wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
***
In the thick curtains of shadow, a small voice rang out, terrified and searching.
“Dad? Is that really you?” Freddie asked, hiding behind his chest of toys. I saw his small body, contorted and pale. His little head poked above the lid.
“Freddie! You’re alive!” I cried, running over and hugging him. Tears streamed down my face. “I thought you were outside. I heard you screaming out there.”
“I heard you and Mom yelling outside, too,” Freddie whispered, his small body trembling as I held him. “I got scared and ran up here. I’m sorry, Dad. Where’s Mom?”
“It’s OK. Thank God you did,” I murmured, remembering the lake of blood downstairs and all those strange, black snakes. “Mom isn’t coming, Freddie.” He went silent then and didn’t ask any more questions. A sick, heavy weight covered my heart.
In the darkness, we hid and waited, though I knew not for what. The smell of copper and iron from all the blood downstairs had become overwhelming. After a few minutes of this, I took my phone out and shone it around experimentally.
I saw a thin layer of blood streaming into the room, rising up the stairs like the waves of a tsunami. It covered the hallway’s hardwood floor, a half-inch thick deep already and growing fast. Dark shapes slithered and writhed in it. Small waves pushed the lake of blood towards us, and within seconds, my shoes were submerged in it.
“Dad?” Freddie asked in a panicked voice. “What’s that? There’s things inside of it…” Without thinking, I picked Freddie up and held him above my body.
“We need to get to the attic!” I whispered to him, sprinting through the rising pool of blood with my son in my arms. “Don’t be afraid, Freddie. We’ll make it.” I had nearly reached the hallway where the pull-cord for the attic stairs hung when something wrapped around my feet. I went flying forwards, dropping Freddie in the pool of blood. He was submerged up to his waist instantly. His small body writhed in terror.
“Help me! Help me!” he screamed, flailing his arms as black snakes circled him like hungry sharks. The one wrapping around my legs continued slithering up my body. A rising sense of horror and panic filled me. At that moment, I knew I was doomed. I only hoped I would see Iris again. Then I noticed spotlights turn on outside, filling the inside of the house with a radiance like the Sun.
All of the windows upstairs suddenly smashed inwards. A spotlight shone through the nearest of them, illuminating me and Freddie in our frantic struggles against the snakes. Men in SWAT gear crawled through the shattered windows. With their gas masks, their faces looked like insects with too many compound eyes.
On their helmets and jackets, I saw a strange symbol: a double-fisted thumb holding a staring, lidless eye. Dozens of them streamed in, shooting the snakes that circled Freddie and me. As the one wrapping around its body slowly wound its way towards my face, one of the black-clad men came up behind it and shot it in the skull. The snake’s body collapsed all around me, its muscles loosening in death. With relief washing over me, I ran to our saviors.
“Get us out of here!” I pleaded. “There’s horrible things happening!” The man nodded in his black military gear, his mask revealing nothing.
“Follow me,” he said dispassionately, starting towards the roof. “You two are the only survivors we’ve found so far. It truly is a miracle anyone’s still alive.” I could only agree silently.
"This must be all over every news channel," I said. The masked man shook his head.
"No one knows about this," he responded. "No one but you two and our group. The media won't say shit. They do what we tell them."
***
I followed the men out onto the roof. Helicopters crisscrossed the skies, illuminating the houses and streets with many bright spotlights. As a helicopter slowly lowered itself down to take Freddie and me away from that pit of nightmares, dropping a rope for us to ascend, I glanced around my town one last time.
Many of the houses were destroyed or burning, sending thick clouds of black smoke into the blood-red sky. Men in full SWAT gear zoomed around the blood flooding the streets in boats, the whirring of the motors echoing like angry hornets. Turning away, I followed Freddie into the helicopter and never returned.
Iris is dead, and Freddie and I have seen enough horrors to scar us for a thousand years. In my heart, I know it is my fault my wife died. I didn’t follow the rules, and she paid the price.
I will hear those dying, panicked screams until my final breath.

My wife, Iris, sat on the couch next to me, holding the bowl of popcorn in her thin hands. On her other side, our little boy, Freddie, sat. He looked just like his mother, with the same dirty blonde hair and faraway eyes, like the eyes of a dreamer. The movie played across our flat-screen TV, some CGI comedy with talking penguins and llamas that could drive cars. It was some garbage from Disney I would never have watched in a million years, but Freddie liked it, so I suffered through it for him.
We had turned off all the lights in the house for the movie. Only the TV’s flickering colors illuminated the room, sending dancing shadows that flashed out behind us.
Suddenly, outside the living room window, a bolt of lightning came down from the sky, splitting a tree in our front yard in two. Light flooded in through the window as if the flash of a nuclear missile were ripping its way across the town. A crash rang out as the tree split down the middle, its massive branches tumbling down onto the lawn. I jumped as the ground shook. More lightning flashed nearby, hitting other houses and lawns on the street.
“Damn, there wasn’t supposed to be any storms,” I said in surprise. The TV had gone black, and now we sat in darkness. For a long moment, I thought the power had gone out.
Abruptly, it came back on with a roar of white noise and a flickering of static. The volume seemed to be increasing by itself, growing into a rushing cacophony like a waterfall. I saw Iris try to scream something, but I could only see her lips move.
As suddenly as it all started, it stopped. The standard “PLEASE STANDBY” screen with a rainbow of blocky colors behind it appeared. There was a clanging, ringing sound that emanated from the speakers, high-pitched and whining like tinnitus. Then text started appearing across the screen. At the same time, a deep, serious voice spoke in the background, like a radio announcer reporting on the death of a President.
“This is the Demon Emergency Alert Broadcast System,” the voice read grimly. “This is not a test. Level five activity has been reported in your area. Do not go outside. Close all blinds, shutters and windows. Lock all doors and close any attached garages. Do not open your doors except to military or police personnel with the proper insignia. Even if someone appears to be in distress, do not open your door to investigate or try to interfere in any way. A temporary quarantine is in effect for your area. Military and police assistance is on the way.
“To ensure the greatest chances of survival during this time of crisis, please abide by the following rules:

1. If blood begins to pour under your door, go to a higher floor immediately. Avoid physical contact with the blood at all costs.
2. All legitimate military and police personnel will have a special insignia on their helmets and jackets, an eye contained in a double-thumbed fist. Only accompany them if they have this insignia- otherwise, they are imposters.
3. Avoid mirrors for the duration of the emergency.”

The voice cut out abruptly, slowing down in a mechanical whine. Static started flashing across the TV, covering the “PLEASE STANDBY” message that had returned in blocky letters. At that moment, the lights went out. They came back on a couple seconds later, brightening and dimming, before the power failed again. This time, the electricity did not come back on.
“What the fuck?” Iris whispered next to me, taking out her phone and shining the light across the dark living room. “That was pretty weird. Everything looks different outside, too. I was just outside an hour ago and the Moon didn’t look anything like that.” She pointed. I got up, realizing she was right. The nighttime sky outside looked strange. I looked out the front window, seeing the Moon was cast in a fluorescent orange light. The cloudless sky had a dark red glow to it, as if some kind of eerie smog had covered everything. I had seen similar things happen after massive forest fires in the past.
“What happened, Dad?” Freddie asked in his small voice. “Where’s the movie?”
“I think we lost power, little man,” I said, ruffling his hair in a nonchalant manner. I didn’t really believe the emergency broadcast, after all. I figured some teenager had hacked the TV station and decided to play a prank, or perhaps some disgruntled employee had done it on his last day as a kind of “Fuck you” to the station. I had heard of similar things happening before. It was somewhat strange how the power had gone out and the sky had changed, but I felt sure that it could all be logically explained.
Someone shrieked outside. I looked out onto the dark street, seeing the silhouette of someone running frantically down the middle of the street, zigzagging wildly. As the figure got closer, I realized it was a young woman. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties. She wore a white shirt and khakis. Her clothes were soaked in streams of blood that made the fabric cling to her trembling body. I saw a vicious gash bitten into her left shoulder, a wound so deep that the white bone peeked out through the ragged patches of flesh.
“Help me!” she wailed, her eyes wild and panicked. “Why won’t anyone help me?!” She staggered and fell forward, crying and bleeding all over the road. I was about to run outside to see what was wrong with the young woman when I saw another silhouette creeping up behind her.
It looked like the body of a man, but something was wrong. As he drew closer, I caught a glimpse of the man’s face through the dim light. The left side of it was rotted and decayed, while the right looked muscular and healthy. He wore a black suit that looked like little more than tatters. Pieces of it fell off in ragged strips. I could see his left hand was also decomposing. Whatever kind of sickness it was, it seemed to extend to the whole left side of his body.
The stiff, skeletal leg cracked as he dragged it behind him, silently drawing nearer to the young woman. The living side of his face split into an insane rictus grin as he looked down at her. He carried a blood-stained ax that dragged on the pavement behind him with a harsh, metallic groan.
“Get away from me!” the woman screamed at the abomination, trying to kick at him. But she looked weakened from blood loss, and her attempts were feeble and slow. The man laughed, a sound that rang out like the gurgling of blood. He spat squirming maggots from his mouth onto the dark street below. He knelt down before the gasping woman and gave a low whisper. It carried on the dead, silent air.
“So warm,” he murmured, wiping his dead, putrefying fingers across the streams of blood that spurted from her left shoulder. He stuck an inhumanly long, pointed tongue out of his chattering lips and began to lick the blood off his hands. “But not enough. Not nearly enough.”
He stuck the bony, decaying fingers of his left hand into the wound and started pulling at the ragged wound. Blood bubbled out in increasing quantities, covering her body in its wet sheen. The woman jerked, her face turning pale and bloodless. She tried to kick at him, but he only laughed again, gurgling like a man with a slit throat. In horror, I watched him raise the ax above his head. It stood there for a long moment, trembling in his shaking hands like a guillotine blade.
“Please, don’t…” the woman pleaded as he grinned down at her. In a blur, he swung the ax down into her forehead. There was a wet cracking of bone and a ringing of metal. She sat there with her mouth open for what felt like a very long moment. Then, limply, she collapsed to the pavement. A dull thud echoed down the street as her skull smacked the pavement.
Sickened, I closed the blinds on the window and turned away, realizing that Freddie and Iris had been standing right behind me the entire time, watching the horrific display. Freddie was crying quietly into his hands, while Iris looked pale, her green eyes wide and unbelieving. The woman exhaled one last time, a long, drawn-out death gasp, and then everything went silent.
I felt sick and weak. Staggering, I put my hand out against the wall. A wave of nausea rose up my stomach. I ran towards the bathroom, shining the light from my cell phone to light the way. Iris started crying. I heard her frantically try to dial 911 over and over again.
“Dammit, nothing’s working!” she cried. I stumbled into the bathroom and threw up all the popcorn and soda I had consumed that night into the toilet. Covered in sweat, I started wiping my face with toilet paper. I pushed myself up, glancing into the mirror.
A cadaverous version of myself stood there, the dead face showing horror and surprise just like my own. I saw the same high cheekbones, the same shaved head, but in the mirror image, maggots writhed and squirmed in the rancid flesh. I backpedaled into the wall, stuttering something incomprehensible. The reflected image did the same, his lipless mouth opening and closing with silent curses. He wore the same clothes as myself, a black T-shirt and blue jeans, but they were rotted and tattered, as if they had been dug out of a grave.
“What the fuck?” I swore, raising my right hand experimentally. The mirror image did the same, matching every single movement perfectly. At that moment, Iris came running into the bathroom, her soft footsteps thudding gently against the marble floor. I jumped, turning to her.
“There’s someone outside the door,” she whispered, her face pale. I glanced back at the reflection, seeing that the other version was no longer following my movements.
“Watch out!” I cried, but it was too late.
The skull-like face came forward in a blur. His arm shot out towards Iris. The surface of the mirror swirled as if it were made of water when his pale flesh made contact with it. The sharp points of bone of his fingers wrapped around Iris’ neck. Stunned and silent, I watched in horror as he started dragging her into that other world.
“Stop him!” she screamed. “God, make him stop!” I ran forward, grabbing her legs as her head and chest was sucked through. There was a slight popping sound when her body entered the liquid-like surface. I tried to hold on with all of my strength, but whatever abomination was on the other side was strong, stronger than me. His iron grip yanked her out of my hands.
“Dad?” Freddie asked, slinking into the bathroom. His eyes were wide and wild. He looked around, confused. “Where’s Mom? Who’s screaming?” I had to make a decision instantly, I knew. I could either stay with my son, or try to get my wife back. I knew I couldn’t just leave Iris, though. I felt mentally torn. I looked between him and the mirror, my heart quivering with anxiety.
“Freddie, go wait in the living room,” I said. “Hide behind the couch. Don’t answer the door or say anything to anyone, no matter what. I’ll be right back.” I wasn’t sure if I would or not. Before I turned to the mirror, I patted his head. “Remember the rules they read us on the TV.” He nodded, but he was only a seven-year-old boy. How much did he really understand? Hell, how much did I even understand? I hadn’t followed the rules, and now Iris was kidnapped.
I turned back to the mirror, seeing that I had no reflection now. There was no sign of Iris or the rotted corpse with my face, either. Slowly, I walked forward, putting my trembling hand out towards its silvery surface. My fingers went through the mirror as if it were mere air, but I felt something freezing cold ripple around my skin. Pins and needles rushed up my arm. Taking a deep breath in, I pushed myself up on the counter and went all the way through.
***
I fell forward onto the marble surface of the bathroom floor, putting my hands out to break the fall. As I glanced up, I realized how strange everything looked. The world here was in constant motion, as if a fog-like void shimmered over the world. The floor’s surface danced with whorls of shadow. They felt as freezing cold as liquid nitrogen as they passed over my body.
Shivering and hugging myself, I pushed myself up off the floor. The walls and ceilings, too, rippled in the same black currents. I glanced around, seeing the white bathtub filled to the brim with dark blood. It bubbled constantly, as if someone were drowning under its surface. Bloody handprints of all sizes smeared the sides of the tub. The smell of copper grew strong, mixing with the strange smell that emanated from the shadows, a pungent, chemical odor like ammonia.
I passed by the mirror, seeing that here, too, I had no reflection. I felt like a vampire, staring into that blank emptiness. Feeling sick and disoriented, I stumbled forward, afraid to even breathe too loudly. I heard Iris crying and shrieking somewhere nearby.
“Nooo…” she wailed. “Please, stop…” Her voice seemed to be growing fainter and weaker, as if she were being dragged away by a tsunami. I peeked around the corner. Everything looked like nightmarish and strange. The living room looked much longer, stretching out for hundreds of feet. It had the same blue carpet and white walls as the one in my world, but now it was the size of a football stadium. The dark red couch had lengthened to an absurd size, stretching wide enough to fit a hundred people in it. The TV loomed across the room like the screen of a movie theater. It flickered constantly, showing a cacophony of white noise and static interspersed with horrible images: naked corpses with their throats sliced from ear to ear, burning bodies, people falling to their deaths from burning buildings.
But none of that was what made an involuntary gasp of horror rise up my throat. It was the enormous spiderweb spanning the length of the ceiling, fluttering softly in the breeze. In the center of the symmetrical web, I saw Iris, covered in silky thread up to her neck. She was hanging horizontally facing down, her body parallel to the floor. She struggled against the webbing that bound her like steel chains. Her eyes bulged from her head as she stared fixedly at the cadaver approaching her.
Crawling upside-down towards Iris was the monstrous image of myself I had seen in the mirror, but he had transformed into something spidery and eldritch. He skittered along with four arms and four legs now. The emaciated limbs poked out of his tattered rags of clothes, forked and elongated, the skin pale and covered in purple sores and deep gashes. Iris continued to plead and shriek in horror as it drew near. The creature’s chattering fangs and blackened gums approached her neck.
At the penultimate moment, Iris saw me, peeking around the corner of the bathroom. I stood there, unsure of what to do. I thought of trying to scream out, to throw something at the creature, but then what? We would both die, and then who would be left alive to protect Freddie? I didn’t know what to do. These thoughts passed through my head in the space of a single moment as we stared at each other. Her eyes shone with a moment of clarity, even as waves of mortal terror shook her body like a hurricane.
“Save Freddie!” she screamed. “Run! Go, Jack!” The creature noticed her staring at me instantly. He curved his long neck and twisted his spidery limbs, clutching the thick strands of silk with his skeletal limbs. The creature turned to me. He had a face like a skull. His filmy eyes regarded me intently. Silver streams of saliva dripped from his mouth. He gave a wide, insane smile, then turned back to Iris, unhinging his jaw. The pale, dead skin tore with a wet ripping sound. The yellow, sharp points of teeth gleamed darkly in the currents of rippling shadow.
I turned, sprinting back into the darkness of the bathroom as the crunching of bone and the shrieking of my wife followed me out. I had to repress an urge to vomit. With all of the speed I could muster, I staggered forward to the counter, where the mirror sat revealing the image of my house, an image that still lacked my reflection inside. Iris’ pleas and screams rapidly weakened. I heard her choking and gasping. A few moments later, I heard a rapid skittering of many legs approaching the bathroom. I started to pull myself up on the counter to escape this hellish mirror world.
Something creaked in the doorway behind me. I glanced back in fright, seeing the abomination with the eight limbs creeping up behind me. He stood only a few feet away from me now. As my eyes met his white, dead ones, his cadaverous face split into a sickly grin.
***
A wave of adrenaline shook my body. My vision turned white in the darkness. With a pounding heart, I pushed myself up and lunged through the mirror. The eight-limbed abomination with my rotting face gave an insane shriek. I felt a freezing cold hand wrap around my ankle and begin to drag me back.
“No!” I shrieked, trying to kick blindly at the mirror creature’s dead face. “I’ll never go with you! Never!” I smashed my sneaker into his jaw. There was a shattering sound, as if a ceramic vase had been dropped. The chattering of sharp teeth and the shrieking cut off abruptly. Looking back, I saw the corpse’s broken jaw hanging on by only a few shreds of tendons and muscle. The eyes went slack and I felt the grip loosen for the briefest moment. I pushed myself forward and slid through the mirror.
The freezing cold, pins-and-needles sensation returned, running over my body like water. I collapsed head-first onto the sink, rolling onto the floor with a jarring thud. The shrieking of the eight-limbed corpse continued behind me. I saw him trying to force his elongated body through the mirror. The long arms with their sharp fingers reached through, swiping wildly at the air. Before I could escape, one of them came through and cut four deep gashes into my chest. My shirt instantly became soaked in blood as a burning pain ran up my body.
I heard someone pounding at the front door, but in the panic of the moment, I could barely think. As the rest of the cadaverous body tried to push his way through the mirror, I dragged myself out of the bathroom. I slammed the door shut, even as the sounds of breaking and shattering followed me out of the bathroom. Ignoring the pain radiating through my body, I ran over to the couch and began shoving it towards the door.
The door shuddered in its frame. The house and the floor shook as the corpse threw his enormous body into the wood over and over again. Cracks spiderwebbed down the front of it, and I knew it wouldn’t last more than a couple more seconds.
“Freddie!” I screamed, looking around frantically. My heart dropped when I remembered I had told him to hide behind the couch. He was not here, not anywhere in the living room. “Freddie! Where the hell are you?”
“Dad?!” a voice responded from outside. It sounded like Freddie’s voice, but it was eerie, as if his voice had gotten caught between stations on the radio. It sputtered with static. It fell and rose in an ear-splitting scream. “Dad, let me in! Please! They’re going to hurt me!”
I ran to the front door, looking outside, but I saw no sign of Freddie. The sky had changed, though. The Moon had changed from orange to a dark red, the color of a burst blood blister. The rest of the sky was such a dark shade of crimson that it looked almost black. Around my feet, I felt something warm and wet.
“Where are you?” I yelled. “I don’t see…” At that moment, the bathroom door exploded outwards in a shower of nails and splinters, covering my face and body in the debris. The cadaverous face peeked around the corner, as if he were playing hide-and-seek rather than hunting and killing people.
“Fuck!” I swore as I looked down, seeing blood streaming in from under the door. It covered my sneakers up to the tops of the soles as more and more flooded in.
I ran for the stairs as the eight-limbed corpse skittered across the ceiling like a spider. He hung upside-down, the jaw hanging askew on his putrefying skull, the filmy eyes flashing with bloodlust. I was already half-way up the stairs when the corpse jumped down into the lake of blood at the bottom of the stairs. With his elongated, twisted limbs, he began pulling himself towards the first step in a blur, covering his body in the thick, putrid blood that continuously poured in through the bottom of every door.
But something was in the blood, I saw to my horror. I froze in place near the top of the stairs, watching the creature as he struggled to pull himself out of the blood, which was already at knee-height and still rising. There were dark silhouettes slithering through the blood. I saw the head of a black snake peer out at the eight-limbed cadaver. The snake had no eyelids, and its eyes looked as red as the blood it lived in. It wrapped its muscular body around his torso, rising up towards the cadaver’s face. The blood-red eyes met those dead, rotted ones of the corpse as they stared at each other. Then the eldritch snake lunged forward and bit off the corpse’s face.
Other snakes started to rise out of the surface, wrapping around his four legs and slithering up his back. The corpse wailed like a banshee, running blindly into the walls to try to smash the many snakes that suffocated and bit him from all sides. But this only seemed to heighten their hunger and bloodlust.
The sound of shredding flesh and snapping bone followed me as I ran into Freddie’s room and hid. His room was the only one without mirrors in it, I knew, and I wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
***
In the thick curtains of shadow, a small voice rang out, terrified and searching.
“Dad? Is that really you?” Freddie asked, hiding behind his chest of toys. I saw his small body, contorted and pale. His little head poked above the lid.
“Freddie! You’re alive!” I cried, running over and hugging him. Tears streamed down my face. “I thought you were outside. I heard you screaming out there.”
“I heard you and Mom yelling outside, too,” Freddie whispered, his small body trembling as I held him. “I got scared and ran up here. I’m sorry, Dad. Where’s Mom?”
“It’s OK. Thank God you did,” I murmured, remembering the lake of blood downstairs and all those strange, black snakes. “Mom isn’t coming, Freddie.” He went silent then and didn’t ask any more questions. A sick, heavy weight covered my heart.
In the darkness, we hid and waited, though I knew not for what. The smell of copper and iron from all the blood downstairs had become overwhelming. After a few minutes of this, I took my phone out and shone it around experimentally.
I saw a thin layer of blood streaming into the room, rising up the stairs like the waves of a tsunami. It covered the hallway’s hardwood floor, a half-inch thick deep already and growing fast. Dark shapes slithered and writhed in it. Small waves pushed the lake of blood towards us, and within seconds, my shoes were submerged in it.
“Dad?” Freddie asked in a panicked voice. “What’s that? There’s things inside of it…” Without thinking, I picked Freddie up and held him above my body.
“We need to get to the attic!” I whispered to him, sprinting through the rising pool of blood with my son in my arms. “Don’t be afraid, Freddie. We’ll make it.” I had nearly reached the hallway where the pull-cord for the attic stairs hung when something wrapped around my feet. I went flying forwards, dropping Freddie in the pool of blood. He was submerged up to his waist instantly. His small body writhed in terror.
“Help me! Help me!” he screamed, flailing his arms as black snakes circled him like hungry sharks. The one wrapping around my legs continued slithering up my body. A rising sense of horror and panic filled me. At that moment, I knew I was doomed. I only hoped I would see Iris again. Then I noticed spotlights turn on outside, filling the inside of the house with a radiance like the Sun.
All of the windows upstairs suddenly smashed inwards. A spotlight shone through the nearest of them, illuminating me and Freddie in our frantic struggles against the snakes. Men in SWAT gear crawled through the shattered windows. With their gas masks, their faces looked like insects with too many compound eyes.
On their helmets and jackets, I saw a strange symbol: a double-fisted thumb holding a staring, lidless eye. Dozens of them streamed in, shooting the snakes that circled Freddie and me. As the one wrapping around its body slowly wound its way towards my face, one of the black-clad men came up behind it and shot it in the skull. The snake’s body collapsed all around me, its muscles loosening in death. With relief washing over me, I ran to our saviors.
“Get us out of here!” I pleaded. “There’s horrible things happening!” The man nodded in his black military gear, his mask revealing nothing.
“Follow me,” he said dispassionately, starting towards the roof. “You two are the only survivors we’ve found so far. It truly is a miracle anyone’s still alive.” I could only agree silently.
"This must be all over every news channel," I said. The masked man shook his head.
"No one knows about this," he responded. "No one but you two and our group. The media won't say shit. They do what we tell them."
***
I followed the men out onto the roof. Helicopters crisscrossed the skies, illuminating the houses and streets with many bright spotlights. As a helicopter slowly lowered itself down to take Freddie and me away from that pit of nightmares, dropping a rope for us to ascend, I glanced around my town one last time.
Many of the houses were destroyed or burning, sending thick clouds of black smoke into the blood-red sky. Men in full SWAT gear zoomed around the blood flooding the streets in boats, the whirring of the motors echoing like angry hornets. Turning away, I followed Freddie into the helicopter and never returned.
Iris is dead, and Freddie and I have seen enough horrors to scar us for a thousand years. In my heart, I know it is my fault my wife died. I didn’t follow the rules, and she paid the price.
I will hear those dying, panicked screams until my final breath.

My wife, Iris, sat on the couch next to me, holding the bowl of popcorn in her thin hands. On her other side, our little boy, Freddie, sat. He looked just like his mother, with the same dirty blonde hair and faraway eyes, like the eyes of a dreamer. The movie played across our flat-screen TV, some CGI comedy with talking penguins and llamas that could drive cars. It was some garbage from Disney I would never have watched in a million years, but Freddie liked it, so I suffered through it for him.
We had turned off all the lights in the house for the movie. Only the TV’s flickering colors illuminated the room, sending dancing shadows that flashed out behind us.
Suddenly, outside the living room window, a bolt of lightning came down from the sky, splitting a tree in our front yard in two. Light flooded in through the window as if the flash of a nuclear missile were ripping its way across the town. A crash rang out as the tree split down the middle, its massive branches tumbling down onto the lawn. I jumped as the ground shook. More lightning flashed nearby, hitting other houses and lawns on the street.
“Damn, there wasn’t supposed to be any storms,” I said in surprise. The TV had gone black, and now we sat in darkness. For a long moment, I thought the power had gone out.
Abruptly, it came back on with a roar of white noise and a flickering of static. The volume seemed to be increasing by itself, growing into a rushing cacophony like a waterfall. I saw Iris try to scream something, but I could only see her lips move.
As suddenly as it all started, it stopped. The standard “PLEASE STANDBY” screen with a rainbow of blocky colors behind it appeared. There was a clanging, ringing sound that emanated from the speakers, high-pitched and whining like tinnitus. Then text started appearing across the screen. At the same time, a deep, serious voice spoke in the background, like a radio announcer reporting on the death of a President.
“This is the Demon Emergency Alert Broadcast System,” the voice read grimly. “This is not a test. Level five activity has been reported in your area. Do not go outside. Close all blinds, shutters and windows. Lock all doors and close any attached garages. Do not open your doors except to military or police personnel with the proper insignia. Even if someone appears to be in distress, do not open your door to investigate or try to interfere in any way. A temporary quarantine is in effect for your area. Military and police assistance is on the way.
“To ensure the greatest chances of survival during this time of crisis, please abide by the following rules:

1. If blood begins to pour under your door, go to a higher floor immediately. Avoid physical contact with the blood at all costs.
2. All legitimate military and police personnel will have a special insignia on their helmets and jackets, an eye contained in a double-thumbed fist. Only accompany them if they have this insignia- otherwise, they are imposters.
3. Avoid mirrors for the duration of the emergency.”

The voice cut out abruptly, slowing down in a mechanical whine. Static started flashing across the TV, covering the “PLEASE STANDBY” message that had returned in blocky letters. At that moment, the lights went out. They came back on a couple seconds later, brightening and dimming, before the power failed again. This time, the electricity did not come back on.
“What the fuck?” Iris whispered next to me, taking out her phone and shining the light across the dark living room. “That was pretty weird. Everything looks different outside, too. I was just outside an hour ago and the Moon didn’t look anything like that.” She pointed. I got up, realizing she was right. The nighttime sky outside looked strange. I looked out the front window, seeing the Moon was cast in a fluorescent orange light. The cloudless sky had a dark red glow to it, as if some kind of eerie smog had covered everything. I had seen similar things happen after massive forest fires in the past.
“What happened, Dad?” Freddie asked in his small voice. “Where’s the movie?”
“I think we lost power, little man,” I said, ruffling his hair in a nonchalant manner. I didn’t really believe the emergency broadcast, after all. I figured some teenager had hacked the TV station and decided to play a prank, or perhaps some disgruntled employee had done it on his last day as a kind of “Fuck you” to the station. I had heard of similar things happening before. It was somewhat strange how the power had gone out and the sky had changed, but I felt sure that it could all be logically explained.
Someone shrieked outside. I looked out onto the dark street, seeing the silhouette of someone running frantically down the middle of the street, zigzagging wildly. As the figure got closer, I realized it was a young woman. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties. She wore a white shirt and khakis. Her clothes were soaked in streams of blood that made the fabric cling to her trembling body. I saw a vicious gash bitten into her left shoulder, a wound so deep that the white bone peeked out through the ragged patches of flesh.
“Help me!” she wailed, her eyes wild and panicked. “Why won’t anyone help me?!” She staggered and fell forward, crying and bleeding all over the road. I was about to run outside to see what was wrong with the young woman when I saw another silhouette creeping up behind her.
It looked like the body of a man, but something was wrong. As he drew closer, I caught a glimpse of the man’s face through the dim light. The left side of it was rotted and decayed, while the right looked muscular and healthy. He wore a black suit that looked like little more than tatters. Pieces of it fell off in ragged strips. I could see his left hand was also decomposing. Whatever kind of sickness it was, it seemed to extend to the whole left side of his body.
The stiff, skeletal leg cracked as he dragged it behind him, silently drawing nearer to the young woman. The living side of his face split into an insane rictus grin as he looked down at her. He carried a blood-stained ax that dragged on the pavement behind him with a harsh, metallic groan.
“Get away from me!” the woman screamed at the abomination, trying to kick at him. But she looked weakened from blood loss, and her attempts were feeble and slow. The man laughed, a sound that rang out like the gurgling of blood. He spat squirming maggots from his mouth onto the dark street below. He knelt down before the gasping woman and gave a low whisper. It carried on the dead, silent air.
“So warm,” he murmured, wiping his dead, putrefying fingers across the streams of blood that spurted from her left shoulder. He stuck an inhumanly long, pointed tongue out of his chattering lips and began to lick the blood off his hands. “But not enough. Not nearly enough.”
He stuck the bony, decaying fingers of his left hand into the wound and started pulling at the ragged wound. Blood bubbled out in increasing quantities, covering her body in its wet sheen. The woman jerked, her face turning pale and bloodless. She tried to kick at him, but he only laughed again, gurgling like a man with a slit throat. In horror, I watched him raise the ax above his head. It stood there for a long moment, trembling in his shaking hands like a guillotine blade.
“Please, don’t…” the woman pleaded as he grinned down at her. In a blur, he swung the ax down into her forehead. There was a wet cracking of bone and a ringing of metal. She sat there with her mouth open for what felt like a very long moment. Then, limply, she collapsed to the pavement. A dull thud echoed down the street as her skull smacked the pavement.
Sickened, I closed the blinds on the window and turned away, realizing that Freddie and Iris had been standing right behind me the entire time, watching the horrific display. Freddie was crying quietly into his hands, while Iris looked pale, her green eyes wide and unbelieving. The woman exhaled one last time, a long, drawn-out death gasp, and then everything went silent.
I felt sick and weak. Staggering, I put my hand out against the wall. A wave of nausea rose up my stomach. I ran towards the bathroom, shining the light from my cell phone to light the way. Iris started crying. I heard her frantically try to dial 911 over and over again.
“Dammit, nothing’s working!” she cried. I stumbled into the bathroom and threw up all the popcorn and soda I had consumed that night into the toilet. Covered in sweat, I started wiping my face with toilet paper. I pushed myself up, glancing into the mirror.
A cadaverous version of myself stood there, the dead face showing horror and surprise just like my own. I saw the same high cheekbones, the same shaved head, but in the mirror image, maggots writhed and squirmed in the rancid flesh. I backpedaled into the wall, stuttering something incomprehensible. The reflected image did the same, his lipless mouth opening and closing with silent curses. He wore the same clothes as myself, a black T-shirt and blue jeans, but they were rotted and tattered, as if they had been dug out of a grave.
“What the fuck?” I swore, raising my right hand experimentally. The mirror image did the same, matching every single movement perfectly. At that moment, Iris came running into the bathroom, her soft footsteps thudding gently against the marble floor. I jumped, turning to her.
“There’s someone outside the door,” she whispered, her face pale. I glanced back at the reflection, seeing that the other version was no longer following my movements.
“Watch out!” I cried, but it was too late.
The skull-like face came forward in a blur. His arm shot out towards Iris. The surface of the mirror swirled as if it were made of water when his pale flesh made contact with it. The sharp points of bone of his fingers wrapped around Iris’ neck. Stunned and silent, I watched in horror as he started dragging her into that other world.
“Stop him!” she screamed. “God, make him stop!” I ran forward, grabbing her legs as her head and chest was sucked through. There was a slight popping sound when her body entered the liquid-like surface. I tried to hold on with all of my strength, but whatever abomination was on the other side was strong, stronger than me. His iron grip yanked her out of my hands.
“Dad?” Freddie asked, slinking into the bathroom. His eyes were wide and wild. He looked around, confused. “Where’s Mom? Who’s screaming?” I had to make a decision instantly, I knew. I could either stay with my son, or try to get my wife back. I knew I couldn’t just leave Iris, though. I felt mentally torn. I looked between him and the mirror, my heart quivering with anxiety.
“Freddie, go wait in the living room,” I said. “Hide behind the couch. Don’t answer the door or say anything to anyone, no matter what. I’ll be right back.” I wasn’t sure if I would or not. Before I turned to the mirror, I patted his head. “Remember the rules they read us on the TV.” He nodded, but he was only a seven-year-old boy. How much did he really understand? Hell, how much did I even understand? I hadn’t followed the rules, and now Iris was kidnapped.
I turned back to the mirror, seeing that I had no reflection now. There was no sign of Iris or the rotted corpse with my face, either. Slowly, I walked forward, putting my trembling hand out towards its silvery surface. My fingers went through the mirror as if it were mere air, but I felt something freezing cold ripple around my skin. Pins and needles rushed up my arm. Taking a deep breath in, I pushed myself up on the counter and went all the way through.
***
I fell forward onto the marble surface of the bathroom floor, putting my hands out to break the fall. As I glanced up, I realized how strange everything looked. The world here was in constant motion, as if a fog-like void shimmered over the world. The floor’s surface danced with whorls of shadow. They felt as freezing cold as liquid nitrogen as they passed over my body.
Shivering and hugging myself, I pushed myself up off the floor. The walls and ceilings, too, rippled in the same black currents. I glanced around, seeing the white bathtub filled to the brim with dark blood. It bubbled constantly, as if someone were drowning under its surface. Bloody handprints of all sizes smeared the sides of the tub. The smell of copper grew strong, mixing with the strange smell that emanated from the shadows, a pungent, chemical odor like ammonia.
I passed by the mirror, seeing that here, too, I had no reflection. I felt like a vampire, staring into that blank emptiness. Feeling sick and disoriented, I stumbled forward, afraid to even breathe too loudly. I heard Iris crying and shrieking somewhere nearby.
“Nooo…” she wailed. “Please, stop…” Her voice seemed to be growing fainter and weaker, as if she were being dragged away by a tsunami. I peeked around the corner. Everything looked like nightmarish and strange. The living room looked much longer, stretching out for hundreds of feet. It had the same blue carpet and white walls as the one in my world, but now it was the size of a football stadium. The dark red couch had lengthened to an absurd size, stretching wide enough to fit a hundred people in it. The TV loomed across the room like the screen of a movie theater. It flickered constantly, showing a cacophony of white noise and static interspersed with horrible images: naked corpses with their throats sliced from ear to ear, burning bodies, people falling to their deaths from burning buildings.
But none of that was what made an involuntary gasp of horror rise up my throat. It was the enormous spiderweb spanning the length of the ceiling, fluttering softly in the breeze. In the center of the symmetrical web, I saw Iris, covered in silky thread up to her neck. She was hanging horizontally facing down, her body parallel to the floor. She struggled against the webbing that bound her like steel chains. Her eyes bulged from her head as she stared fixedly at the cadaver approaching her.
Crawling upside-down towards Iris was the monstrous image of myself I had seen in the mirror, but he had transformed into something spidery and eldritch. He skittered along with four arms and four legs now. The emaciated limbs poked out of his tattered rags of clothes, forked and elongated, the skin pale and covered in purple sores and deep gashes. Iris continued to plead and shriek in horror as it drew near. The creature’s chattering fangs and blackened gums approached her neck.
At the penultimate moment, Iris saw me, peeking around the corner of the bathroom. I stood there, unsure of what to do. I thought of trying to scream out, to throw something at the creature, but then what? We would both die, and then who would be left alive to protect Freddie? I didn’t know what to do. These thoughts passed through my head in the space of a single moment as we stared at each other. Her eyes shone with a moment of clarity, even as waves of mortal terror shook her body like a hurricane.
“Save Freddie!” she screamed. “Run! Go, Jack!” The creature noticed her staring at me instantly. He curved his long neck and twisted his spidery limbs, clutching the thick strands of silk with his skeletal limbs. The creature turned to me. He had a face like a skull. His filmy eyes regarded me intently. Silver streams of saliva dripped from his mouth. He gave a wide, insane smile, then turned back to Iris, unhinging his jaw. The pale, dead skin tore with a wet ripping sound. The yellow, sharp points of teeth gleamed darkly in the currents of rippling shadow.
I turned, sprinting back into the darkness of the bathroom as the crunching of bone and the shrieking of my wife followed me out. I had to repress an urge to vomit. With all of the speed I could muster, I staggered forward to the counter, where the mirror sat revealing the image of my house, an image that still lacked my reflection inside. Iris’ pleas and screams rapidly weakened. I heard her choking and gasping. A few moments later, I heard a rapid skittering of many legs approaching the bathroom. I started to pull myself up on the counter to escape this hellish mirror world.
Something creaked in the doorway behind me. I glanced back in fright, seeing the abomination with the eight limbs creeping up behind me. He stood only a few feet away from me now. As my eyes met his white, dead ones, his cadaverous face split into a sickly grin.
***
A wave of adrenaline shook my body. My vision turned white in the darkness. With a pounding heart, I pushed myself up and lunged through the mirror. The eight-limbed abomination with my rotting face gave an insane shriek. I felt a freezing cold hand wrap around my ankle and begin to drag me back.
“No!” I shrieked, trying to kick blindly at the mirror creature’s dead face. “I’ll never go with you! Never!” I smashed my sneaker into his jaw. There was a shattering sound, as if a ceramic vase had been dropped. The chattering of sharp teeth and the shrieking cut off abruptly. Looking back, I saw the corpse’s broken jaw hanging on by only a few shreds of tendons and muscle. The eyes went slack and I felt the grip loosen for the briefest moment. I pushed myself forward and slid through the mirror.
The freezing cold, pins-and-needles sensation returned, running over my body like water. I collapsed head-first onto the sink, rolling onto the floor with a jarring thud. The shrieking of the eight-limbed corpse continued behind me. I saw him trying to force his elongated body through the mirror. The long arms with their sharp fingers reached through, swiping wildly at the air. Before I could escape, one of them came through and cut four deep gashes into my chest. My shirt instantly became soaked in blood as a burning pain ran up my body.
I heard someone pounding at the front door, but in the panic of the moment, I could barely think. As the rest of the cadaverous body tried to push his way through the mirror, I dragged myself out of the bathroom. I slammed the door shut, even as the sounds of breaking and shattering followed me out of the bathroom. Ignoring the pain radiating through my body, I ran over to the couch and began shoving it towards the door.
The door shuddered in its frame. The house and the floor shook as the corpse threw his enormous body into the wood over and over again. Cracks spiderwebbed down the front of it, and I knew it wouldn’t last more than a couple more seconds.
“Freddie!” I screamed, looking around frantically. My heart dropped when I remembered I had told him to hide behind the couch. He was not here, not anywhere in the living room. “Freddie! Where the hell are you?”
“Dad?!” a voice responded from outside. It sounded like Freddie’s voice, but it was eerie, as if his voice had gotten caught between stations on the radio. It sputtered with static. It fell and rose in an ear-splitting scream. “Dad, let me in! Please! They’re going to hurt me!”
I ran to the front door, looking outside, but I saw no sign of Freddie. The sky had changed, though. The Moon had changed from orange to a dark red, the color of a burst blood blister. The rest of the sky was such a dark shade of crimson that it looked almost black. Around my feet, I felt something warm and wet.
“Where are you?” I yelled. “I don’t see…” At that moment, the bathroom door exploded outwards in a shower of nails and splinters, covering my face and body in the debris. The cadaverous face peeked around the corner, as if he were playing hide-and-seek rather than hunting and killing people.
“Fuck!” I swore as I looked down, seeing blood streaming in from under the door. It covered my sneakers up to the tops of the soles as more and more flooded in.
I ran for the stairs as the eight-limbed corpse skittered across the ceiling like a spider. He hung upside-down, the jaw hanging askew on his putrefying skull, the filmy eyes flashing with bloodlust. I was already half-way up the stairs when the corpse jumped down into the lake of blood at the bottom of the stairs. With his elongated, twisted limbs, he began pulling himself towards the first step in a blur, covering his body in the thick, putrid blood that continuously poured in through the bottom of every door.
But something was in the blood, I saw to my horror. I froze in place near the top of the stairs, watching the creature as he struggled to pull himself out of the blood, which was already at knee-height and still rising. There were dark silhouettes slithering through the blood. I saw the head of a black snake peer out at the eight-limbed cadaver. The snake had no eyelids, and its eyes looked as red as the blood it lived in. It wrapped its muscular body around his torso, rising up towards the cadaver’s face. The blood-red eyes met those dead, rotted ones of the corpse as they stared at each other. Then the eldritch snake lunged forward and bit off the corpse’s face.
Other snakes started to rise out of the surface, wrapping around his four legs and slithering up his back. The corpse wailed like a banshee, running blindly into the walls to try to smash the many snakes that suffocated and bit him from all sides. But this only seemed to heighten their hunger and bloodlust.
The sound of shredding flesh and snapping bone followed me as I ran into Freddie’s room and hid. His room was the only one without mirrors in it, I knew, and I wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
***
In the thick curtains of shadow, a small voice rang out, terrified and searching.
“Dad? Is that really you?” Freddie asked, hiding behind his chest of toys. I saw his small body, contorted and pale. His little head poked above the lid.
“Freddie! You’re alive!” I cried, running over and hugging him. Tears streamed down my face. “I thought you were outside. I heard you screaming out there.”
“I heard you and Mom yelling outside, too,” Freddie whispered, his small body trembling as I held him. “I got scared and ran up here. I’m sorry, Dad. Where’s Mom?”
“It’s OK. Thank God you did,” I murmured, remembering the lake of blood downstairs and all those strange, black snakes. “Mom isn’t coming, Freddie.” He went silent then and didn’t ask any more questions. A sick, heavy weight covered my heart.
In the darkness, we hid and waited, though I knew not for what. The smell of copper and iron from all the blood downstairs had become overwhelming. After a few minutes of this, I took my phone out and shone it around experimentally.
I saw a thin layer of blood streaming into the room, rising up the stairs like the waves of a tsunami. It covered the hallway’s hardwood floor, a half-inch thick deep already and growing fast. Dark shapes slithered and writhed in it. Small waves pushed the lake of blood towards us, and within seconds, my shoes were submerged in it.
“Dad?” Freddie asked in a panicked voice. “What’s that? There’s things inside of it…” Without thinking, I picked Freddie up and held him above my body.
“We need to get to the attic!” I whispered to him, sprinting through the rising pool of blood with my son in my arms. “Don’t be afraid, Freddie. We’ll make it.” I had nearly reached the hallway where the pull-cord for the attic stairs hung when something wrapped around my feet. I went flying forwards, dropping Freddie in the pool of blood. He was submerged up to his waist instantly. His small body writhed in terror.
“Help me! Help me!” he screamed, flailing his arms as black snakes circled him like hungry sharks. The one wrapping around my legs continued slithering up my body. A rising sense of horror and panic filled me. At that moment, I knew I was doomed. I only hoped I would see Iris again. Then I noticed spotlights turn on outside, filling the inside of the house with a radiance like the Sun.
All of the windows upstairs suddenly smashed inwards. A spotlight shone through the nearest of them, illuminating me and Freddie in our frantic struggles against the snakes. Men in SWAT gear crawled through the shattered windows. With their gas masks, their faces looked like insects with too many compound eyes.
On their helmets and jackets, I saw a strange symbol: a double-fisted thumb holding a staring, lidless eye. Dozens of them streamed in, shooting the snakes that circled Freddie and me. As the one wrapping around its body slowly wound its way towards my face, one of the black-clad men came up behind it and shot it in the skull. The snake’s body collapsed all around me, its muscles loosening in death. With relief washing over me, I ran to our saviors.
“Get us out of here!” I pleaded. “There’s horrible things happening!” The man nodded in his black military gear, his mask revealing nothing.
“Follow me,” he said dispassionately, starting towards the roof. “You two are the only survivors we’ve found so far. It truly is a miracle anyone’s still alive.” I could only agree silently.
"This must be all over every news channel," I said. The masked man shook his head.
"No one knows about this," he responded. "No one but you two and our group. The media won't say shit. They do what we tell them."
***
I followed the men out onto the roof. Helicopters crisscrossed the skies, illuminating the houses and streets with many bright spotlights. As a helicopter slowly lowered itself down to take Freddie and me away from that pit of nightmares, dropping a rope for us to ascend, I glanced around my town one last time.
Many of the houses were destroyed or burning, sending thick clouds of black smoke into the blood-red sky. Men in full SWAT gear zoomed around the blood flooding the streets in boats, the whirring of the motors echoing like angry hornets. Turning away, I followed Freddie into the helicopter and never returned.
Iris is dead, and Freddie and I have seen enough horrors to scar us for a thousand years. In my heart, I know it is my fault my wife died. I didn’t follow the rules, and she paid the price.
I will hear those dying, panicked screams until my final breath.

I have been an active shoe sneaker geek since I was in middle school watching Nightwing2303, slowly become a national sneaker head icon, along with KickGenius, solebrothers, foamerSimpson, Yoanty, Heskicks, and many others. I have been extremely passionate shoes and still the bringing the same energy now in my 25 going on 26.
It’s crazy to me when I look back, time has flown so fast, and my body is certainly not the same since getting out of the military. But everything basketball allows me to release my pent up energy (unemployed, unsuccessful transition to civilian life), and I’m grateful I can still play at least. Being at my lowest I’m bringing my passion to life through YouTube, I have my goals in my description and I pay homage to those that have inspired me to this point. It’s definitely out of my comfort zone, but you only live once. Hope my content is helpful in your shoe purchases! This is my second pair of lebrons I’ve owned, with my first being the 16’s which I wish they would bring back 🙏
I posted previously about my shoe choices, and the Jordan 37 was going to be my top choice, however I stayed away because the arch support made my arches blister and bleed and had to turn them away. Everything else was money for me however.
Saw these at dicks for $80 and I think the gods were watching over me.
This is how I’m ranking everything:

1. Traction
2. Cushion
3. Fit
4. Materials
5. Durability
6. Lockdown + support
7. Looks
   
8. Traction:
   

TOP TIER, bang BANG. Played at my local Y and these thing were all bark and bite. Has the screeching roar of a jet going full speed, and it’s hard not to notice, if you have sensitive ears and hearing, may not be for you, but to others it’s liquid gold. All court conditions approved

1. Cushion:

6mm forefoot turbo unit, and a 13mm heel zoom unit with a full length cushion 2.0 midsole, with the exception of the heel being a different compound, or what I feel is caged. Honestly, very stiff in the heel, I’m a heavy contact to the floor and crash a lot, I’m known for putting the e-brakes on for a fake pull up to get the defender to fall for my pumps. So my landings are really impacting and both explosive for context and I’m a guard type as well. I felt the responsiveness and cushion in the forefoot, however, the heel? I personally feel like it’s dead for me. I think Nike is having a huge quality control issues (almost like the Boeing equivalent but for shoes lol) and you’d think zoom bags wouldn’t be effected by this, but here we are in 2024 and Nike struggling big time. The cushlon 2.0 does make up for it however (because the turbo unit is just a basic kyrie 5, 6, and 7 set up), and i wouldn’t say it’s max cushion, but it’s very high cushion for a low top shoe. If it had the zoom of the Jordan 37? Now we’re talking.

1. Fit

This is where it’s eating me alive, I went TTS, and these are by far the most snug shoes I have ever put on my feet, I have normal width and normal arch feet. My toes felt JAMMED. Even after playing 3 hours in them, switching socks, I feel that tightness on top of my toe and I think about it while I play, which is distracting. Has anyone had this issue? Debating on returning and going .5 size up from my 9.

1. Materials.

Worth the price point. They packed so much into this shoe, and the quilted tongue is my favorite part, no issues for that for me. The upper is also cushioned which does attributes to the snugness but it might be too overkill for me. The laces are premium, everything about this shoe is premium

1. Durability,

I expect this shoe to last for me quite a while, I’m an average hooper now, only playing an hour to 30 minutes 3 days a the week at my local y. And everything is durable so far, I am a sprinter and stop on a time and it’s refreshing to see no fraying on first use. We’ll see as time goes.

1. Lockdown and support,

Best part about the show for me, the lacing systems SUCKS your heel in and you aren’t getting no where j on n lateral movements and cuts. My only concern is where the outrigger is placed, the foam should be denser as the lateral side compresses with how much the stack height is, and if you aren’t careful in your foot placement and foot work, you should probably avoid these.

1. Looks,

At first, ugly as hell. But they have grown on me and I love them, you stand out on court and I had people screaming lebron James at me because of how explosive I was towards the rim, great shoe and great design while keeping all of the fundamentals in place

I don't have Tourette's (my son, now adult, does have it), but I do have oral tics (teeth clenching, tongue tapping, very slight tongue thrust which luckily is not visible (I don'tt think) outside my mouth.
NBD but there is a particular very unpleasant one that shows up every couple of months, including today.
It's sort of compulsive swallowing along with various pressures of my tongue against the roof of my mouth, and when it launches (every few months randomly) it causes my tongue to create sort of suction on the roof of my mouth, which becomes irritated (can't get a real look at it but I'm guessing it maybe reddens and may even form a blister like babies sometimes get from sucking), becomes painful, and once painful, becomes even more compulsive. I think part of what starts it is feeling my soft palate touching my throat so I also have this sensation of something soft of liquid-y lingering in my throat which also makes me want to swallow.
Typically this will go on for a few days, I hate it, and the roof of my mouth does get sore.
If anyone has some kind of interruption suggestion I would very much appreciate it. I kinda wish at the moment I could lidocaine the whole inside of my mouth. Oh, and if I am not swallowing I am very conscious of saliva accumulating in my mouth which then. . . I want to swallow.

Are you thinking about obtaining your kids or yourself Invisalign braces? If so, there's no need for concern. Getting Invisalign braces from an Orthodontist in Maumee has a lot of benefits, and it might be the best choice you've ever made.
In the past, braces were thought to be exclusive to geeky, awkward children. However, this has altered over time, and more people are now receiving them.
This is a result of people's desire to have better smiles and realizing that it is possible to do so quickly. Furthermore, orthodontic treatment is now cheaper than ever thanks to improvements in the field.
However, what makes Invisalign in Maumee a better option than traditional metal braces?
We'll go over the main importance and benefits of selecting Invisalign braces in this article. You ought to be certain that they're the greatest choice for you and your child after reading this.
Adults not getting braces can be attributed in large part to the fact that traditional braces are not the most appealing. Ultimately, would you truly want to speak at a significant conference while garroting your mouth? They still have a small stigma and can be distracting for the person you are speaking with.
Additionally, braces tend to make bullying worse for kids and teens who may be the target of it. They typically become extremely self-conscious as a result and try to keep their tongues shut. Their mental health may suffer long-term consequences as a result of this.
In contrast, Invisalign braces work exactly the other way. You may converse with someone who has these kinds of braces and never realize they have them on.
Clear aligners called Invisalign are fitted over your teeth. They are nearly imperceptible to the unaided eye since they are translucent.
This is one of the main explanations for their enormous appeal to both adults and children. Celebrities and television personalities have even been known to utilize them.
Most of those who possess them don't experience any self-consciousness. Actually, they frequently forget they have them and carry on with their daily activities.
Sadly, a lot of people who wear metal braces experience pain and discomfort.
Blisters and sores may result from the braces' frequent rubbing against the gums. Furthermore, the metal wire frequently cuts the gums in the back when it is implanted.
This is unpleasant for everyone, but kids especially. In fact, it might make people afraid of orthodontists or dentists. The plastic aligners fit flawlessly and are entirely smooth. This lessens the likelihood of cuts, blisters, and sores.
See your orthodontist more frequently if you have metal braces. This is due to the fact that the wires will eventually need to be replaced or tightened. This usually becomes a hassle for you or your child after a short while.
Marco Polo is author of this article and writes since long time. For further details about Invisalign in Maumee please visit the website.