First: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/14vo5lb/troublemakers_deaths_pity/
*previous:* https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/1cnuyl1/troublemakers_the_son_of_witch_and_warrio
......
Drake tossed the last shovelful of soil over his shoulder, looking over the massive circular bunker elevator that had been buried beneath rubble and dirt. Destrier and Caz were consulting the map for any kind of clue as to how it could be opened up. Cassius and Remin both kept an eye on Charlotte and the younger of the two was playing patty-cake with the small woman. Drake paused for a moment, looking at the display with an odd trembling in his heart. It was clear charlotte was at least a teenager, but she acted like a small child, her wide eyed wonder evident in the freely smiling face and glittering eyes as she happily patted her hands against Cassius'. His stomach roiled and he almost doubled over as he spit out a mouthful of bile that sizzled on the ground ominously. Truth be told, since he'd been thrown into that strange void he'd felt sick, the tingling, electrical power in his veins only intensifying even as he dug out the massive hundred foot in diameter elevator. Chucking the shovel to the side halfheartedly, he looked up at the tree of hung corpses as the shovel clanged against a wall several paces away. His heart began to pound angrily and the feeling of nausea and static intensified exponentially, He doubled over and vomited, a pink slurry of blood and oatmeal splattering on the ground. He fell to one knee as the edges of his vision darkened for a moment, an overwhelming weakness turning his limbs to lead. Cassius appeared at his side, a look of fearful concern on his face as he went to grab Drake by the shoulders.
Drake didn't understand where the knowledge came from, but Cassius absolutely could not touch him. Drake shoved a hand out, launching Cassius back a few feet where he landed on his back. Sitting up, Drake saw the rapidly cooling red-hot handprint on the chest of his nano-mesh Gambeson at the same time Cassius did. They shared a look of startled panic and realization before Drake slumped forward, his last thought before the void took him was one of confusion.
"What's happening to me?!"
...
Charlotte saw the man named Drake tumble forward after shoving his friend, Heat mirage rising off his prone back as the soil around him began to melt into magma. She hurried to her feet when the old man in lamellar held her back, a look of confusion and fear on his face.
"Why aren't you helping him?!"
She cried trying to push past the old man's iron strength. Her hand still smudged with soot where the man currently laying in a puddle of molten soil had reattached her finger like magic. The man looked down at her, anxiously shouting.
"Do you not see the godsdamned lava?! I don't think we can even get close!"
Charlotte stopped pushing, a feeling of stark impotency falling like a pall over her mind as the ground bubbled around Drake's still form. She didn't know much about her new world, but she knew that man was a good one, and seeing him lay lifeless and still made her skin crawl with the desire to help. But then she heard a sound that chilled her to the bone.
The dull thrum of propulsor engines reached her over the wind and she whipped around to scan the sky. She could see them against the soft brown midday sky, dark shapes that hurtled through the air like birds of prey. She could see them now in her mind, loaded to the gills with Spec ops and bio-engineered soldiers, Artillery class emitters charged to full, engines thrumming under a full combat load of rockets and bombs. Charlotte wildly looked around, spotting a mostly intact, low forge building she shouted.
"If you want to live get inside!!!!"
The woman and large black man who'd been pouring over the maps looked up confusedly as Charlotte began shoving Remin towards the building. The panic she felt made her nerves burn with the need to run, but she couldn't abandon them she couldn't just let the-
An earplitting screech came from inside her skull forcing her to her knees as she clutched the aching sides of her head, a horrifyingly familiar voice speaking to her from within her very being.
"Ooooooooh Sylva my dear?~ Did my little cuckoo lose her collar?~ Ah, no matter, would you kindly clear the landing area for the buzzards?~"
Her arms fell limp as her viewpoint shrank away, leaving her floating in the darkness as she saw her body move of its own accord. Drawing a long bayonet from the thigh scabbard on the old man's leg and driving it right between his ribs, the blade expertly slipping between lamellar plates. She wanted to scream as the old man jolted back, clutching at where the knife had slipped through his armor, falling to the ground as she rotated to face the other three. Her hair swayed in front of her face, the dark brown draining upwards, leaving it a stark silver with a purple stripe. The hum of the buzzards was only growing louder as she reached for the small of her back, clawing at the veil between her body and her as a pen-flare came into view, pointed at the sky.
She silently screamed as a purple flair rose into the sky, the cold void swallowing her like it had all those years ago.
...
Nothingness surrounded Drake, a deep, endless, colorless world devoid of meaning or substance. But he wasn't alone here, something moved within the emptiness, pure, flavorless power roiling off it like the heat of his village's forge.
And it was angry.
He could feel it as it beheld him with a sort of bestial curiosity born out of its anger. Invisible tendrils snaked into his body like hot pieces of iron, molding themselves around his bones and sinews like it was searching for something. Crawling through his veins and into his heart, making him feel as though he was burning alive. His heart seized and stopped bringing a cold stillness to his body. But he didn't die as the tendrils slowly withdrew, heart pounding back to life like a bright orange flame had been ignited in his chest. The thing's viewpoint changed, looking down on him from above as it touched the glowing sigil over his heart with that same rageful curiosity, then a tendril of power touched the scythe on his wrist with something akin to fondness. He could feel hard crystalline bands forming around his fingers as the thing rumbled with amusement, the feeling of molten iron filling his body before fading as each band slowly reached completion. Then it hurled him ass over head through a wooden door.
Death jumped out of his chair, falling hard without his prosthetics and careful not to spill the yellowish water inside the odd glassware in his slender hand. The two stared at each other with similar levels of bewilderment as Drake rubbed his face before looking at the set of ten obsidian bands that encircled the base of each finger and thumb.
"How in the fuck did you get here?"
Death asked calmly, stump-walking back to his chair and taking a long burbling pull from the glassware in his hand.
Drake clambered into one of the smoky chairs death had casually summoned.
"I... uh... I got thrown through your door by... something... I don't exactly know what. It seemed... angry at me, though."
Death looked up with a blank expression, oily smoke rising from his nostrils as he said.
"Beg pardon? what do you mean you don't exactly know what did it? wait..."
A look of concern etched itself into Death's face as he grabbed one of Drakes hands, looking at the black rings with ever widening eyes. Slowly he made eye contact with Drake, holding up the jewelry bedecked hand urgently.
"Do you even know what these are?!?!"
Drake shook his head.
"Obviously fuckin not."
Death took a deep breath, taking a long burbling hit from the piece of glassware with palpable stress as he set Drakes hand down, letting his chosen look at the rings curiously and experimentally take one off. The moment the pinky ring stopped touching his flesh Death leapt back exclaiming.
"Jesus fucking christ kid!! Put it back on! put it back on!"
Drake slipped the ring back on, he'd felt a small boost to his energy but hadn't noticed anything that would elicit such a reaction from the harvester of souls.
"Who's Jesus christ?"
Drake asked as Death took another calming breath before replying.
"Probably one of the most famous demigods known to humankind, but that isn't important..."
Death folded his hands and leaned across the desk with a twitching eyelid.
"What is important, is how you managed to acquire ten heart of the umbra crystals for rings. I can count on one hand the amount of people who have acquired exactly one of these rings."
Drake looked at the dull black crystal rings curiously.
"Do they give me extra power?"
Death shook his head, slowly revealing an arm encased in the black bands.
"Quite the opposite... They typically completely restrain your power so you don't burn up and turn into a walking, talking nuclear weapon. And they're specifically given to those who have touched the Umbra and survived, typically just experiencing the primordial soup that makes reality results in a cataclysmic leap in power... but even then... it's only ever been one ring. Three humans have owned one of these rings, Archibald Sunshine, Roxanne Richards, and Bagelious Braveheart. How the Bagel god's chosen got one I'm at a loss. But of those three, One died using the power the ring held back, The other lives inside a mechanical body locked away from her powers permanently, and Bagelius? he's... He's just unhinged."
Drake gazed at his hands, the rings glittering dully in the flickering firelight. He held them up curiously.
"So... what does it mean if I have ten?"
Death took another deep breath, letting it out in an exasperated sigh. He didn't look drake in the eye as he stared at a wall.
"I... I don't know... If I had to guess..."
Death looked at Drake with no small amount of curiosity and fear for his life.
"You didn't just survive the umbra... You fought it... and lived to tell the tale... I don't even think you're human anymore Drake..."
Drake furrowed his brow, clenching and relaxing his fist, feeling the rings click together.
"Then what am I?"
Death shook his head before simply stating.
"Something I and those before me, have never seen..."
He looked into Drakes eyes, a soft glimmer in the endless, silvery pools as he rolled his sleeve back down to hide the bands around his own arm.
"You defy every law and command of the universe, just by existing."
Drake slowly nodded before standing back up.
"That explains why conquest looked so afraid. Bitch kidnapped my soul and tried to fight me on her own turf and still lost."
"Im sorry..."
Drake glanced over at Death's coldly calm words, the primordial exploding with power as he roared.
"She did WHAT!?!?!"
Drake looked at death with wide eyes, shocked at the sudden outburst, the primordial literally steaming with rampant power as he clicked his legs on. Drake was about to step through the door and back to his body when death stopped him with a snarled.
"No, you're coming with me. I need to know what she's playing at... and what better way than to bring the one person she's actually afraid of."
...
Caz had barely taken a running step towards Charlotte, blindsided by the sudden betrayal as the small woman lifted a pen flare to the sky and launched it with a Pop! Snatching her Huntress she broke it open, cocking the striker and slamming a fresh flechette into the electrically insulated chamber. A massive shadow loomed over her and she froze in her tracks, looking up at the massive metal machine as it hovered over the ruined village, her heart pounding in her throat as dark silhouettes leapt from the sides of the propulsor driven aircraft. They landed hard on the ground, Grey, patterned armor shifting to blend in with the bombed out village as their cold visors regarded her emotionlessly. Caz drew a bead on the first one, about to fire when the cold steel of a bayonet was pressed against her throat from behind. She'd forgotten about charlotte. A soft chuckle came from within the group of organized soldiers and they parted to reveal a geknosian in similar but far more ornate armor. Golden medals bedecking every available surface including a fabric crotch flap weighed down with stamped precious metals. They pulled an ornately forged helmet from their head, a dark grin on the general's face as he looked around at the general disarray the five troublemakers found themselves in.
Cassius held a chest seal to the wet gash between Remin's ribs. The old man looking pale and shaky as he weekly held his shotgun in the general direction of the soldiers. Destrier slowly folded up the map and tucked it into the pouch at the small of his back, dark eyes gliding studiously over the Geknosian forces. Caz adjusted her crosshair onto the General and felt the bayonet press harder against her throat.
"Drop it... Bitch~"
The small woman holding the knife cooed. Caz snarled and threw her Huntress to the ground, raising her hands in surrender as the blade of the bayonet relaxed against her throat. She wanted to spare Drake a glance, but she dared not turn her head lest she slit her own throat on the keen blade of Remin's long bayonet. The Geknosian General sauntered forward, attempting to take her chin in his hand.
"ARRRGH!"
The General cried out, leaping back as a burst of cold frost froze his war gauntlet into a brick of ice. Caz's eyes lit up as she backed into Charlotte, the woman crying out in pain and jerking the blade away as a brick of frosted ice formed around her chest. The Geknosian general grabbed for the blaster pistol at his hip and she kicked him in the chest, freezing his chestplate and sending him reeling back in shock. She got a glimpse of Destrier sprinting to Remin and Cassius's side, helping Drag the old man into the low forge building as Caz dove for her Huntress. A heavy armored boot slammed into her mask, throwing her disorientingly on her side even as the boot froze over. Caz slowly got back to her feet as the soldiers bore their guns down on her, wiping the blood from her split lip through her mask, she growled, glancing back at Drake's still form, the ground around him having cooled and solidified into hard stone. Charlotte slowly joined the generals side, the frost around her chest quickly melting as she leaned in to whisper in the general's ear, eliciting a smile.
"Thank you Sylva, the information is much appreciated. A little cuckoo bird tells me that you all came here looking for the human bunker. How pitiful you don't have an access remote, like this one?"
The general held out a hand, a piece of blocky, olive drab green plastic falling into his outstretched, thawing palm. Clicking a button, nothing happened and he purred.
"But, alas we're at an impasse, for only someone of human genome may access the bunkers... oh wait~"
He held the remote out to Charlotte, Who stared at it blankly, eyes glimmering dully for a second. Then they dulled again as she looked up at Caz with an odd expression.
The remote sailed through the air and Caz instinctually caught it as Charlotte monotonely stated.
"Run, Keep it away from them."
Caz didn't need to be told twice as she turned on her heel and sprinted through a small alleyway between two buildings that leaned on each other, blaster bolts ablating the stony surfaces in puffs of loud smoke and blinding flashes. Grabbing the hook at her belt, she threw it and slung herself onto the crumbling rooftops, one of the metal buzzards turning where it hovered in the air to focus a glowing emitter on her. She leapt off the crumbling rooftop just as the powerful laser ablated the spot she'd just been standing with a blinding flash and a pressure wave that launched her much farther through the air than she intended. The last thing she saw before blacking out was a crumbling wall rushing at her as she fell face first towards it, clutching the remote to her chest.
......
Part 106: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/1cr3pct/troublemakers_adrenaline_is_a_superpower_in_itself/

Things haven’t been good for a long time. And I know where this all leads. I’ve been down this path before with violent men. My girlfriends can see the handprints up and down my left arm. I just don’t understand why I keep attracting this type of men into my life. He’s easily more than a 100 pounds than me and a foot taller. I’m in the midst of being diagnosed for maybe lupus, with fragile and painful joints. I know abuse begets abuse and it’s a cycle.
How strong do you have to be to be a man that lays hands on his girlfriend? How much stronger will I have to be to move past this? And everyone looks at me in this huge age gap relationship like I’m the monster and I’m taking advantage of him. I’m not a monster, I’m a fragile immunocompromised woman who came from devastating poverty in a relationship with a man 25 years older than me who has now crossed the line of being physical.
What do I do?

One would’ve thought I’d be used to this by now – typing with one arm. It takes time to get used to; especially when you’ve spent most of your life in front of a keyboard. Muscle memory digs deep.
A few years ago, I was in a car accident. I was going 60 down an empty road, coming home from a long day of overtime, when some kind of animal came charging out of the woods. Trying to avoid a collision, I swerved off the road. My front left wheel got caught in a ditch, sending the entire vehicle careening off the road; only to smash into the trunk of an ill-placed black walnut tree, driver’s side first.
I have this vague memory of blinking lights and vague shapes in the distance. I was so cold. But at the same time, it was so unreal. I couldn’t even understand what had happened.

I was brought into emergency surgery. My left arm was, literally, hanging by the thread of my jacket. It had come off clean by the socket.
According to the surgeons, I was lucky. Most of my shoulder was intact, so it became a matter of salvaging what they could. The cut had been clean. I did suffer some whiplash damage to my neck and lower back, but considering I could’ve easily died or gotten paralyzed, losing an arm was considered “mild”.
Looking back at it, I am inclined to agree. Considering what could’ve gone down, I was damn lucky. Still, in that luck, I wished I could’ve gotten just a tiny bit luckier. See, I had this gold ring that I’d been given by my later mother. A simple thing with the engraving of a musical note on the inside – a memento of our shared love of music. We played Louis Armstrong at her funeral.
That ring disappeared in the accident. Somehow, that’s what bothered me the most. My arm could be reattached. It could heal. But that little memento was just gone.

What followed was a long period of intense physical therapy, medication, and painful readjustments. It took weeks before I could even move my fingers again, and when I did, it felt like pushing your nerves through an unwashed garlic press. It was this stunning chemical-level kind of pain. The kind where your body just shuts down, begging you to stop.
But over time, I started to get over it. Small movements started to get better. I could tie my shoes. Press the space bar. Hold a knife. I wasn’t about to juggle anytime soon, or play the piano, but I could get by.
Soon enough, I got back to work.

People were glad to see me. I wasn’t gonna be able to work at full capacity in my usual role, but I could still sit in on meetings. I won’t bore you with the details, but most of my work relies on answering e-mails, proofreading, and translation. It’s pretty technical stuff that requires a lot of pitter-patter on keyboards.
At one point, I was stuck in a particularly drawn-out meeting between two clients that we were facilitating. I was there mostly as an observer (to fill the seats), but I was supposed to weigh in if something related to my department came up. Of course, it didn’t, but I still had to act interested. My colleague was trying to draw up a compromise between the two parties, laying out terms and conditions. Meanwhile, I was nursing a cup of coffee and waiting for the day to be over.
Looking over to my side, I noticed something odd. I wasn’t just holding the coffee cup with my left hand; I was stroking it with my index finger. Sort of like how you’d scratch a wary cat under its chin.

It was a strange sensation. I was looking at my own arm, my own hand, and I couldn’t feel what was happening. I couldn’t feel the ceramics tapping against my finger, or the twitch of the nerve as it contracted and extended. It was just happening. An involuntary twitch, perhaps.
But it didn’t feel like it. It felt intended, somehow.
A few similar events took place that day. Grabbing the bathroom door for a little too long. Knocking over desktop decorations. Suddenly letting go of my jacket as I was about to head home. It was just little things. I was still having trouble even using my arm in the first place, so these quirks didn’t bother me too much.
A friend of mine was giving me a ride home. I wasn’t at 100% yet and sitting behind the steering wheel felt like inviting disaster. Instead, I sat in the passenger seat, nodding off as the trees passed me by with a steady rhythm; causing me to blink.

A noise pulled me back. The driver said something, but I wasn’t paying attention. Turning to him, I excused myself.
“Sorry, what was that?” I asked.
“What are you doing?” the driver repeated.
I looked over. My left hand was wrapped around the parking brake, as if ready to pull. I forced myself to let go.
“Nothing,” I said. “Sorry, I don’t… it’s nothing.”
“Right,” he nodded. “Just… don’t do that.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Yeah, no. Sorry.”

That night, I was exhausted. It felt like my lungs had been robbed of breath. I felt weak and trembling. I was cold, yet feverish. Famished, but without an appetite. I went to bed early, faceplanting into the pillow.
I had horrible nightmares, none of which I can remember. I kept waking up over and over, not being able to discern dream from reality. My bed was soaked with cold sweat, sending shiver after shiver up my spine.
By the early hours of the morning, a stray ray of sunshine burned my eyes open. I was lying on my side, looking towards the window, leaning on my left shoulder.
The fingers of my left hand were moving on their own. And not just moving, but bent in every which way; as if lacking bones. They were vibrating, shuddering, like wounded worms fearing a predator.

I grabbed my hand, and my fingers were back to normal. I could move them as usual. For a moment, I was doubting what I’d seen. It was one thing to experience oddities, but that was unreal. I must’ve laid there for half an hour, just expanding and contracting my hand, begging my body to work with me.
“Enough of this,” I begged. “Please. Enough. Please.”
I clapped my hands, cracked my fingers, and ran them through my hair. It was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary. Right?

A couple of weeks passed without any serious peculiarities. I could even work a little. There were a few of oddities, like unknowingly grasping a warm cup, or my fingers pointing in all directions when in contact with cold water. Just strange little things that I could easily get control of.
That was, until one morning at work. We were out of coffee, so I was making myself a cup of tea instead. As the water came to a boiling point, I accidentally spilled some on my arm.
The reaction was immediate.

My arm whipped out to the side, throwing the pot across the room. For a moment, my arm looked like it didn’t have any bones; rippling like a skin-covered liquid. It made me think of it not as a part of me, but as an alien thing attached to my shoulder.
And for a brief moment, in the blink of a heartbeat, I could see my fingers grow and shrink. Fingernails throbbing, like a cat throwing up a hair ball.
Suddenly, it stopped. Looking back, I could see one of my co-workers watching me from the other side of the room. She must’ve heard the crash.
“You alright?” she asked.
“Yeah, just got a burn,” I sighed. “I’ll, uh… I’ll be fine.”
She side-eyed the broken pot on the other side of the room and nodded. Not entirely convinced.

As soon as she left, I looked down on my hand as if shying away from a wild animal. It was alien to me. It was something… other. A twitch was one thing, but this was downright unnatural.
Coming home that night, I had a weekend ahead of me. I ran my symptoms through a couple of online services. While there are a few ways the human body can trick itself, like the alien hand syndrome, or phantom pains, this was different. Physical properties do not rapidly change. Then again, maybe I was imagining it?
I decided to do something crazy. An experiment. I wanted to recreate what’d happened in the break room.

I boiled up some water and poured it into a cup. I held my left hand over my sink, grabbing the cup with my right. I stood there, trying to calm myself. I wasn’t insane. This was a rational thought that I had to play out in order to eliminate an outlandish possibility.
I prepped a cold pack and ran the tap. Then, taking a deep breath, I poured some of the boiling water on my left hand.

Twelve fingers.
My hand split into twelve fingers, lined with raw, open wounds. My wrist rolled, like a cobra fixing its eyes on a prey animal. This was no longer an arm – it was a nest of flesh-colored snakes.
My mind blanked. I fell backwards, smacking at my arm as if trying to kill it. I couldn’t feel a thing. It’s as if all sense of touch ended at my shoulder. I crawled backwards on the floor, trying to wave my arm away, but it clung to me like a parasite fixed on my shoulder.
Seconds later, a searing pain ran up my arm. Looking down on my hand, it looked as it always had. It was just a hand with a burn. I could barely feel it through the pounding in my chest. Every noise in the room was overshadowed by my pulse.
I ran my hand under a tap and wrapped a cold pack around the wrist. It wasn’t a bad burn, but it wasn’t nothing.

I did some research, looking up news from around the time my accident took place. There were a couple of reports, but nothing out of the ordinary. A domestic call, a brawl at a local restaurant, a couple of missing pets. There were a couple of other reports, but they were short and didn’t lead anywhere. A mention of a couple disturbances. Some idiot blasting music in a parking lot.
But there was one more thing I noticed. In one of the reports covering my accident, there was a picture of the car. There was spatter of the blood on the hood, with something meaty stuck in the grille – as if I’d hit an animal.
That caught my interest. I couldn’t remember hitting anything, so what the hell was that about?

The next day, my arm was acting up even worse. It kept going cold, as if circulation was cutting in and out. Before heading out, I wrapped it up in bandages. Partly because of the cold sensation and partly because I just didn’t trust it. There was no way to tell what could happen, or why.
I managed to get a hold of the owner of the junkyard where my trashed car had been towed. I went over there early in the day, just before the fog cleared.
Now, this was long after the car had been crushed and stored, but it was the only lead I had. An older woman greeted me at the gates, letting me in. We had a short chat about the accident as she showed me around, ending up at a stack of metal that could hardly be recognized as anything. The only thing to even hint at my car being in that pile was a thin slice of colored metal from one of the doors.

I dug around there for about 20 minutes; all while being observed by this old woman.
“Yeah, won’t find much,” she said. “If the police didn’t get it, the insurance folks did.”
“Been a lot of people digging around?”
“Not a lot, nah,” she said, shaking her head. “But you ain’t the first.”
And she was right. There wasn’t a drop of blood, or bone, or anything. It was just scrap metal in a pile of even more scrap metal. I was wasting my time.

But as I was about to leave, I noticed something. I hadn’t thought about it, but I could see the old woman was wearing a ring. It looked like a wedding ring at first, but she was wearing it on the wrong finger. I pointed to it.
"You found that?"
"What about it?" she asked.
"It’s got a tune engraved on the inside, right? Like, a, uh… music note?”
There was no response. She just looked at me and sighed. Turns out, I was right. She gave it back.

She’d found it near the hood of the car the night they brought it in. Grabbing it was just a spur of the moment thing, and since no one had come asking for it, she’d kept it. I was a bit annoyed, but mostly relieved that I got it back. But the question remained, how had that ended up at the hood of the car?
“There was all kinds of gunk just kinda hanging there,” she said. “Figured it was an animal.”
“And you’re sure that’s where you found it?”
“Sure as sure can be, yeah.”
I stood there for a moment, feeling an uncomfortable thought forming in the back of my head. There was no way for that ring to go from my broken arm on the driver’s side to a pile of meat stuck in the grille of the car.

But the proof of it had been in front of me all along. I had worn that ring for 12 years. There was a permanent indent on my finger.
Looking down at my left hand, there was no such indent.
This wasn’t my arm.

As soon as that thought settled in my mind, I could feel the arm twist and turn. Hadn’t it been for the bandages, there’s no way to tell what it would’ve done. It squirmed and pulled against me, thrashing like a dying fish on land. The old woman just looked at me.
“You alright? Want me to call someone?” she asked.
“I-I… I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know.”
I had to get to the bottom of this. I hurried out of there as fast as I could.

It was getting late in the afternoon when I got back home. Grabbing an old backpack and a couple of painkillers, I was about to head right back out. But a thought hit me. Maybe it wasn’t as abstract as I thought. Maybe it wasn’t just a feeling – maybe something was really there.
Looking down at my arm, I could feel it stirring, just within my control. Something sleeping, waiting to spring into action. With my right hand on the front door, I stopped, and spoke out loud.
“Whatever you want, just… don’t,” I asked. “Don’t.”
There was no response. No stirring. On a spur-of-the-moment whim, I packed one more thing into my backpack. Just in case. A hail Mary.

Making my way to the scene of the accident, it was impossible to tell anything had ever happened there. I could barely even make out the place where I swerved, or where my wheel got caught in the ditch. I found the general area in the field where my car had spun out of control, and from there it was easy to find the tree I’d smashed into. It was still there.
I spent hours going over it all. Following the path the car had taken, starting from that tree, and working my way back. There was nothing there. Nothing new. It was all just gravel, weeds, and pavement. What had I expected? A signed confession?
As the sun dipped behind the clouds, I could feel a cold wind coming on. I’d lost track of time.

As I turned back, there was a sudden cramp in my arm. A shock of pain crept up my spine, spreading throughout my body like a spider’s web. I could feel my left arm throbbing against the bandage wrap. Something was wrong.
I was in the middle of the field. I could see for miles in every direction. Cars passing by in the distance. Wet grass staining my pants all the way up to my knees. And this one cold wind, cutting straight through my clothes. I shivered, but my left arm didn’t.
Taking a step back towards where I came from, another shot of pain struck me. This one tripped me, sending me face first into the grass. It knocked the air out of my lungs.
I rolled over on my back, gasping for breath. My left hand was creeping up my stomach like a spider with a meaty tail. It stopped over my face, tapping the bridge of my nose with the index finger. I couldn’t feel a thing. Moving to push it off, it instead struck back; grasping my right hand in return.
“Stop,” I wheezed as I sat back up. “Just stop. Stop this.”
But it didn’t. I just sat there. A wounded man holding his arms.

I struggled back and forth for well over half an hour. Getting back on my feet, only to get knocked back down. By the time I’d made my way back to the road, I looked like I’d been hiking for miles. My hair was a mess, and my clothes were covered in grass and mud. I had a handprint across my face, like I’d smacked myself.
I’d trusted myself with a short drive to get there, but I wasn’t sure about going back. It felt reckless to get behind a wheel in my state. Still, I couldn’t just walk all the way back home, and having it towed would be a pain in the ass.
I got back in my car while I thought about it, wiping myself off with a towel from my backpack.

It’d gotten dark outside. The overcast didn’t help, I could almost taste the rain. I contemplated my options and figured that if I kept it slow and only used my right arm, I could carefully make my way home. I put the keys in and turned on the headlights.
There was an elk standing in front of my car.
It sniffed the hood of my car curiously, then proceeded to stare me down. I was just surprised. I got a good look at it. There was something wrong with one of its hind legs – it lacked fur, and there was a sort of spreading baldness reaching halfway up the side of the body.
My arm was slowly rising on its own, as if looking over the dashboard. The elk recoiled, as if in pain, and set off in a troubled three-legged gallop. It disappeared into the woods.

Looking down at my arm, a stray thought hit me.
Was this spreading too?

I painstakingly made my way back home. I dropped my backpack in the hallway, locked my front door, and collapsed into the shower. I was exhausted.
I stood in the shower for about half an hour, looking down at my mother’s ring. I was wearing it on my right hand now, but it just didn’t feel the same. That wasn’t where it was meant to be. Still, it was nice to have it back. Whenever I turned the ring a little, I could feel the engraving against my skin. It was a little gesture I did when I was anxious, as a reminder that it was still there.
I got dressed and ready for a slow evening at home without any further drama. My arm wasn’t acting up. But as I passed through the hallway, something didn’t feel right.

At first, I couldn’t say what it was. Maybe the hum of an old lamp, or some air duct acting up. I wasn’t sure, but it was something. It had to be. I stepped up to the front door.
There used to be a light coming from the hallway outside. That light was always on, and there should be a little light coming in through the peephole. But there wasn’t. Had a fuse blown? I had a closer look.
There was someone just outside my door.

A click.
My left hand had unlocked the door.

The door flung open, knocking me back. A tall silhouette, close to seven feet tall, pushed its way into my apartment. It was dressed in a sort of black poncho, covering its face with layers of bandages. A single frog-like eye stared me down as it pushed forward.
I scrambled backwards on the floor. It was fast. Damn fast. It stepped forward and reached for one of my legs, but I managed to pull away in time. I got back on my feet, barely managing to pull my left arm along. It was trying to grab a hold of something, as if to slow me down.
In a spur-of-the-moment decision I grabbed a lamp from the windowsill, throwing it across the room. The intruder ducked, then came at me again. I ducked under, just in time, and headed for the door.

As I reached the front door, my left arm tried to force it shut. I fought against myself to get out, but it was useless. The door was shut and locked, and my left hand refused to budge. The seven-foot-tall shape came around the corner, slowly approaching. I had to think of something. Anything.
My backpack. It was right there.

I had packed a couple of things earlier. A towel, some bandages, painkillers, and a water bottle. But I’d also packed some lighter fluid. Seeing as how my left arm had reacted so violently to boiling water, I had this stupid idea that the prospect of a straight-up fire would do something even worse to it.
It didn’t seem so stupid anymore.
I grabbed the lighter fluid and sprinkled it on my left arm. The tall shape stopped, seemingly reacting to the smell of it.
I wanted to say something, but all that came out were empty breaths. We were like animals, circling each other, waiting for one to make the first move. I emptied the lighter fluid, grabbing a box of matches. I held the box with my mouth, and a triplicate of matches in my hand. I spilled the rest on the floor.

For a moment, we just looked at one another. A single inhuman eye peeking through the bandage wraps. The vague shape of four, maybe five extremities at its side. How many arms did this thing hide under the poncho?
A flash of realization came to me. This is what I had almost hit with my car.

And with that, I lit the matches. It leapt at me, but it was too late.
The moment the open flame touched the skin on my left arm, it detached. The open nerves just let go of me, and the thing fell off my body. It squirmed on the floor like a dying animal, grasping at whatever its fingers could reach.
Adrenaline forced me out the door. A heartbeat behind me, the seven-foot-tall figure scooped up my burning arm and pushed past me. Within seconds, it was gone – leaving me with an open wound in the stairwell, smelling of lighter fluid.

One of the neighbors called for help. I didn’t even notice how much blood I was losing, but it was bad. They sent me back into emergency surgery; this time without an arm to reattach.
It was deemed that the wound was self-inflicted. A result of some stress-induced psychosis. I wanted to agree, but I saw what I saw. I’ve been trying to convince myself otherwise, but I lived this. This wasn’t any other life but mine.
I’ve since learned to live with a full prosthetic. It’s not much, but I can trust it, and I can wear my mother’s ring the way it was supposed to be. It’s starting to make an indent on the synthetic skin.

I don’t like to think about what would’ve happened if I’d let that thing stay on. But just a couple of weeks ago, I got an answer. I was stuck in traffic, looking out over the fields, when I saw a group of elks in the distance.
One of them had no fur.
None at all.

This story was written and emailed to me by an anonymous source. And it’s one of the craziest most bizarre stories I’ve ever read. Ever! 😆 Enjoy the read. It’s long and ridiculously wild. ☘️ Also, in advance, no one can use this story. These stories are written and emailed to me for me to turn into a Video Narrative for my YouTube & TikTok channels. But I would like to share their tales as reading material as well. Thank you for understanding.
I hope you enjoy. 🫶
Story by - “Alex” & “Shane”
Okay so…
I went on vacation to Ireland with my brother last year. And had the most wildest experience of my life there.
Or should I say, we both had the most…wildest experience.
But More so me. And to Tell you the truth, I don’t think I’ll ever go back again after what happened.
As a matter of fact, no, I won’t go back.
So, it’s a Sunday night and it was pretty much our last day of vacationing.
My older brother Shane, wanted to go out… And I’m quoting him - “let’s get fuckin wasted tonight!”
So… We’re on vacation right? Why not? We had rented an Airbnb for the week, we had a rental car - we had a great week so far and we were having…
A proper vacation.
He was already dressed up and ready to go. I wanted to take a quick shower and shave so I told him to head out and I’d call him when I was ready for him to pick me up.
He says cool. He leaves, and I jump in the shower. He’s the one that knows the hot spots in Ireland better than I do. I mean, this was my first time ever coming here. So…
I take a shower, shave, and I get dressed. As I’m about to call my brother, the front door to our Airbnb opens up.
And Its my brother with two bad ass Irish women! They both jump on the couch and they’re laughing their asses off and my brother is just standing there looking at me with a sly grin on his face.
He looks over at the ladies and says - “Give me a minute please” walks over to me, puts his arm over my shoulder and walks me to the bathroom. He then whips out a bag of mushrooms and smiles. Ya know… The psychedelic kind.
I look down at the bag and I shake my head.
He says to me - “come on bro. We got two hotties out there who are trippin and they want to party. Don’t be a flake. This is our last night. Let’s make it special.”
I don’t like disappointing my brother but I was kind of hesitant.
I opened the bathroom door and take a look at these gorgeous women who were both sitting upright now and both looking at me as I opened the door. Both smiling. I smiled back. Closed the door… I looked at my brother and said - “Alright dood fuck it! Let’s do it!”
He gives me a huge hug, kisses me on the forehead, pours me a handful of shrooms and does the same for himself.
We both looked at each other to see who would go first. He counted to three and down the hatch they went. But they were the most unpleasant tasting mushrooms I’ve ever eaten in my life. They were disgusting.
I ran to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of juice because I was having a hard time chewing these nasty things.
But my brother Shane? No, he’s a pro. You give that guy a barrel of hay and he’ll eat it faster than a horse. The guy can eat anything.
40 minutes go by and I’m still straight as a pin. However, my brother on the other hand? He’s already trippin.
I think he had already taken some beforehand.
But in the next 10 minutes… These shrooms hit me like a ton of bricks! It was like this intense wave of cool and hot went completely through my body.
And I’ve taken mushrooms quite a few times but have never felt anything like this before. It was so sudden!
And I feel fantastic!
The next hour went by so fast because we were having so much fun! And these Irish girls? Man… I had the sexiest one! A beautiful Redhead by the name of Katrina.
She was kind of short though. About 5’1” maybe? But good things come in small packages, right? Well, not really. And you’ll know why soon enough.
I don’t recall anything else that happened for the rest of the night after my brother left with the other girl. And before I continue with the rest of the story. My brother’s name is really not Shane. And the redhead girl I was with is not named Katrina.
You see I had to make up these names to protect me and my brother. Because what happened during the rest of the night? I don’t remember. But also, I’ll never forget either.
Okay so, let's get back to the story…
I do remember my brother leaving with… Let's just call her Gloria, Katrina’s friend? And me and Katrina, the redhead, stood behind. I do remember us making out in the bathroom together, but…Everything else after that? There’s nothing there. Nothing. I don’t recall anything from that point forward no matter how badly I try to remember.
This is what my brother told me he witnessed as he arrived back at the Airbnb five hours later with Gloria.
And until this day, I still don’t want to believe this happened. But according to my brother…
It truly did happen.
My brother is going to write this part of the story because he’s the one that has this locked in his memory for life. And for the sake of the story, my name will be Alex.
Here is my brother Shane’s point of view - his perspective on what he witnessed that crazy night. Wow man… This is so fucking nuts. So buckle up and be prepared. I understand you don’t know who I am, but I swear, I’m not a bad person. Okay.

• “Shane’s” story on what he witnessed.

Yeah so, I guess I’m Shane now. Unreal…
Okay. Here we go. Meat and potatoes.
We arrive back at the Airbnb and I see Alex outside in the front of the house wearing only socks and he’s running around on top of the grass like an animal yanking out handfuls of grass from underneath him.
I look at Gloria and we’re both baffled at what we just saw.
First thing I said was - “Oh yeah! This dood is off his rocker right about now - as I parked the car.
We both hop out of the car and walk up to the front door. I slide the key into the door, it unlocks, but there’s a chair behind the door and it’s tipped over blocking the entry way and only leaving enough space for a crack. We both awkwardly look at one another and as I’m about to call out for my brother, I hear someone sprinting towards the door and bang!
The fuckin idiot shuts the door on us.
I then knock on the door softly because It’s almost 1 in the morning as I don’t want to make too much noise. God only knows what this kid has been doing since me and Gloria left.
After I knock on the door a few times, I hear the chair getting pushed to the side and my brother slightly opens the door. I take a peek inside, and his nose is broken, lips are bubbled up and his left eye is completely shut, black and blue and swollen.
He then drops to his knees, and begins crying but no sound is coming out of him! You know… Like when you get smacked by your parents when you’re a kid and it shocks the soul of you? Yeah, that kind of cry.
I don’t react to what he’s doing to not scare the shit out of Gloria, because she’s right beside me. So I push the door open and tell Gloria to hang on a second and shut the door and lock it.
I pick his busted ass up and sit him on the couch. I look around the house and it’s in complete shambles. Our clothes are everywhere, there’s food all over the fuckin walls. It was chaotic. And my brother is now sitting up breathing frantically.
I ask him - “what in the fuck happened?”
He looks at me. Face looking like he got into a boxing match with Rocky Marciano and whispers to me.
“Dood… There’s a leprechaun in the bathroom.”
“A fuckin what now?” - I said with the most bewildered look on my face. I mean I must have… I wish I would have taken a picture of my face at that very moment. I should have taken pictures of everything so this idiot could see the havoc he wreaked on that night.
My imbecile brother continues - “I’m telling you. There’s a fuckin leprechaun in the fuckin bathroom and this little lucky charms motherfucker won’t tell me where he hid the gold!”
“A leprechaun in the bathroom. What the fuck happened to you?” I said as I felt my blood beginning to boil.
The Imbecile then says - “Don’t worry. Don’t worry! I hogtied that little bitch and stuffed my underwear in its mouth. It’s in the bathtub. But don’t go in there. Don’t go in there. This thing fucked me up!”
And now I can hear someone fumbling in the bathroom moaning very softly. I looked at my brother and said - “What in the fuck did you do Alex?”
He replies - “I’m telling you. It’s a fucking leprechaun.”
“Okay. Okay.” - I said. “Stay right here and just, don’t move. Don’t do anything. Just keep still.
His eyes were so huge and dilated. He was so fuckin high. He had heartbeat pulses pumping from the top of his head.
I rushed back over to the front door and told Gloria that my brother got into a fight with a couple of guys at a pub while me and her were out and that her friend Katrina left because she got scared. She told me that was the first time she met that girl tonight so she really didn’t care and shrugged it off. Which was a huge relief to me. I told her thank you for a wonderful night. She understood. W said our goodbyes. I shut the door. And now… What the fuck is in the bathroom? Or better yet, who, is in the bathroom? Because let’s face it. This motherfucker did not find and fight with a leprechaun tonight. No way. There’s just no fuckin way.
I rush over to the bathroom and my brother leaps at my legs, and he’s holding onto me for dear life, begging me!
He says - “Please don’t untie it! It’s got magical powers! PLEASE!!!
Now, at this very moment? I am sort of hesitant about opening the bathroom door. But I snap out of it and open it. What the fuck. A leprechaun? No, I don’t think so.
I open the door…
“Holy shit.” - I said while covering my hands with my mouth. The floor was smeared in blood as if someone was dragged, leading to the huge cast iron tub. Smeared bloody handprints were all over the tub. And now I hear the faint moan coming from the tub. My legs are shaking and feel like they’re ready to give out on me. I was scared shitless.
“What did my brother do? Who is in that bathtub? I pray to God Katrina isn’t in there right now.” - I said to myself completely freaked out.
I slowly walk up to the bathtub…
And sure enough, there is a hogtied person lying in it with my brother's underwear stuffed in their mouth with a ripped t-shirt tied around their head and mouth, but… It’s not Katrina.
It’s a little person. You know, a dwarf? And… He’s literally dressed up in a leprechaun costume…
And how, on God's green earth did he end up here?
He has no idea I’m standing above him. I reach down to begin untying him but he begins squirming and screaming. I told him to relax and that I was here to help him.
And then My imbecile brother Alex, rushes into the bathroom and tackles me down. Stands up and begins shouting at this poor bastard hogtied in the tub - “Tell me where it is you greedy little fuck! Tell me!!!
I jumped to my feet and slapped my brother back to his childhood. Grabbed him by the throat, tripped him and threw him to the ground and said - “are you fuckin crazy? Do you want to go to prison for kidnapping? What in the fuck is the matter with you? You dumb fuck!!”
He then looks up at me with this pessimistic look on his face and says - “It’s a fucking leprechaun dood. A leprechaun.”
I was absolutely dumbfounded and furious at this point. I have this stranger in my Airbnb rental, hogtied and gagged and squirming and screaming and my brother thinks that he’s a leprechaun…
I can’t make this shit up.
He was so fucking high on those mushrooms. He was absolutely convinced that this man was a leprechaun. So… I had to play the game.
It was the only way to help this poor son of a bitch that my brother had kidnapped and hogtied in our Airbnb rental.
I calmly whispered and told him to please leave the bathroom so I could interrogate the leprechaun and find out where he was hiding the pot of gold.
My brother slowly stood up to his feet, face busted up, his cock and balls all shriveled and tight, looked at the man dressed up as a leprechaun, smiled at him with an evil grin and just, walked away…
And as he walked away, I told him to go and please put some clothes on, lay down in bed, and that I would handle the leprechaun. That I, would find out where the gold was hidden…
And that’s all I’m saying. I’m giving the computer back to my dumbass of a brother to finish off whatever else he wants to write.

• Back to “Alex”

Pretty outlandish right? I know. I know. You must think that I’m bat shit crazy huh? Okay so, to make the rest of this long story short, my brother Shane never told me what he did with the poor guy I hogtied and, well… i don’t remember how this guy came to be in my possession. I really don’t.
The only thing my brother Shane told me was that he ungagged him, untied him, and that he was extremely pissed off. And that he had compensated him for his troubles.
Man, I felt so horrible. I felt so horrible…
What I do remember though is waking up that following afternoon with my face all fucked up. Dehydrated with a tremendous splitting headache. I had no clue as to why I looked and felt the way I did. It was terrifying.
All of our luggage was packed and my brother was just sitting there, legs crossed and his arms folded.
Hey man… Take it from me. Don’t do fuckin drugs.
Regards, “Alex” & “Shane”
Disclaimer- This story may not be used for anything other than reading, sharing your thoughts and enjoying it. It is protected by the United States Library of Congress/Copyright Office. Thank you. ☘️

This story was written and emailed to me by an anonymous source. And it’s one of the craziest stories I’ve ever read in my life. Enjoy the read. It’s wild. ☘️
Story by - Anonymous
Okay so…
I went on vacation to Ireland with my brother last year. And had the most wildest experience of my life there.
Or should I say, we both had the most…wildest experience.
But More so me. And to Tell you the truth, I don’t think I’ll ever go back again after what happened.
As a matter of fact, no, I won’t go back.
So, it’s a Sunday night and it was pretty much our last day of vacationing.
My older brother Shane, wanted to go out… And I’m quoting him - “let’s get fuckin wasted tonight!”
So… We’re on vacation right? Why not? We had rented an Airbnb for the week, we had a rental car - we had a great week so far and we were having…
A proper vacation.
He was already dressed up and ready to go. I wanted to take a quick shower and shave so I told him to head out and I’d call him when I was ready for him to pick me up.
He says cool. He leaves, and I jump in the shower. He’s the one that knows the hot spots in Ireland better than I do. I mean, this was my first time ever coming here. So…
I take a shower, shave, and I get dressed. As I’m about to call my brother, the front door to our Airbnb opens up.
And Its my brother with two bad ass Irish women! They both jump on the couch and they’re laughing their asses off and my brother is just standing there looking at me with a sly grin on his face.
He looks over at the ladies and says - “Give me a minute please” walks over to me, puts his arm over my shoulder and walks me to the bathroom. He then whips out a bag of mushrooms and smiles. Ya know… The psychedelic kind.
I look down at the bag and I shake my head.
He says to me - “come on bro. We got two hotties out there who are trippin and they want to party. Don’t be a flake. This is our last night. Let’s make it special.”
I don’t like disappointing my brother but I was kind of hesitant.
I opened the bathroom door and take a look at these gorgeous women who were both sitting upright now and both looking at me as I opened the door. Both smiling. I smiled back. Closed the door… I looked at my brother and said - “Alright dood fuck it! Let’s do it!”
He gives me a huge hug, kisses me on the forehead, pours me a handful of shrooms and does the same for himself.
We both looked at each other to see who would go first. He counted to three and down the hatch they went. But they were the most unpleasant tasting mushrooms I’ve ever eaten in my life. They were disgusting.
I ran to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of juice because I was having a hard time chewing these nasty things.
But my brother Shane? No, he’s a pro. You give that guy a barrel of hay and he’ll eat it faster than a horse. The guy can eat anything.
40 minutes go by and I’m still straight as a pin. However, my brother on the other hand? He’s already trippin.
I think he had already taken some beforehand.
But in the next 10 minutes… These shrooms hit me like a ton of bricks! It was like this intense wave of cool and hot went completely through my body.
And I’ve taken mushrooms quite a few times but have never felt anything like this before. It was so sudden!
And I feel fantastic!
The next hour went by so fast because we were having so much fun! And these Irish girls? Man… I had the sexiest one! A beautiful Redhead by the name of Katrina.
She was kind of short though. About 5’1” maybe? But good things come in small packages, right? Well, not really. And you’ll know why soon enough.
I don’t recall anything else that happened for the rest of the night after my brother left with the other girl. And before I continue with the rest of the story. My brother’s name is really not Shane. And the redhead girl I was with is not named Katrina.
You see I had to make up these names to protect me and my brother. Because what happened during the rest of the night? I don’t remember. But also, I’ll never forget either.
Okay so, let's get back to the story…
I do remember my brother leaving with… Let's just call her Gloria, Katrina’s friend? And me and Katrina, the redhead, stood behind. I do remember us making out in the bathroom together, but…Everything else after that? There’s nothing there. Nothing. I don’t recall anything from that point forward no matter how badly I try to remember.
This is what my brother told me he witnessed as he arrived back at the Airbnb five hours later with Gloria.
And until this day, I still don’t want to believe this happened. But according to my brother…
It truly did happen.
My brother is going to write this part of the story because he’s the one that has this locked in his memory for life. And for the sake of the story, my name will be Alex.
Here is my brother Shane’s point of view - his perspective on what he witnessed that crazy night. Wow man… This is so fucking nuts. So buckle up and be prepared. I understand you don’t know who I am, but I swear, I’m not a bad person. Okay.

• “Shane’s” story on what he witnessed.

Yeah so, I guess I’m Shane now. Unreal…
Okay. Here we go. Meat and potatoes.
We arrive back at the Airbnb and I see Alex outside in the front of the house wearing only socks and he’s running around on top of the grass like an animal yanking out handfuls of grass from underneath him.
I look at Gloria and we’re both baffled at what we just saw.
First thing I said was - “Oh yeah! This dood is off his rocker right about now - as I parked the car.
We both hop out of the car and walk up to the front door. I slide the key into the door, it unlocks, but there’s a chair behind the door and it’s tipped over blocking the entry way and only leaving enough space for a crack. We both awkwardly look at one another and as I’m about to call out for my brother, I hear someone sprinting towards the door and bang!
The fuckin idiot shuts the door on us.
I then knock on the door softly because It’s almost 1 in the morning as I don’t want to make too much noise. God only knows what this kid has been doing since me and Gloria left.
After I knock on the door a few times, I hear the chair getting pushed to the side and my brother slightly opens the door. I take a peek inside, and his nose is broken, lips are bubbled up and his left eye is completely shut, black and blue and swollen.
He then drops to his knees, and begins crying but no sound is coming out of him! You know… Like when you get smacked by your parents when you’re a kid and it shocks the soul of you? Yeah, that kind of cry.
I don’t react to what he’s doing to not scare the shit out of Gloria, because she’s right beside me. So I push the door open and tell Gloria to hang on a second and shut the door and lock it.
I pick his busted ass up and sit him on the couch. I look around the house and it’s in complete shambles. Our clothes are everywhere, there’s food all over the fuckin walls. It was chaotic. And my brother is now sitting up breathing frantically.
I ask him - “what in the fuck happened?”
He looks at me. Face looking like he got into a boxing match with Rocky Marciano and whispers to me.
“Dood… There’s a leprechaun in the bathroom.”
“A fuckin what now?” - I said with the most bewildered look on my face. I mean I must have… I wish I would have taken a picture of my face at that very moment. I should have taken pictures of everything so this idiot could see the havoc he wreaked on that night.
My imbecile brother continues - “I’m telling you. There’s a fuckin leprechaun in the fuckin bathroom and this little lucky charms motherfucker won’t tell me where he hid the gold!”
“A leprechaun in the bathroom. What the fuck happened to you?” I said as I felt my blood beginning to boil.
The Imbecile then says - “Don’t worry. Don’t worry! I hogtied that little bitch and stuffed my underwear in its mouth. It’s in the bathtub. But don’t go in there. Don’t go in there. This thing fucked me up!”
And now I can hear someone fumbling in the bathroom moaning very softly. I looked at my brother and said - “What in the fuck did you do Alex?”
He replies - “I’m telling you. It’s a fucking leprechaun.”
“Okay. Okay.” - I said. “Stay right here and just, don’t move. Don’t do anything. Just keep still.
His eyes were so huge and dilated. He was so fuckin high. He had heartbeat pulses pumping from the top of his head.
I rushed back over to the front door and told Gloria that my brother got into a fight with a couple of guys at a pub while me and her were out and that her friend Katrina left because she got scared. She told me that was the first time she met that girl tonight so she really didn’t care and shrugged it off. Which was a huge relief to me. I told her thank you for a wonderful night. She understood. W said our goodbyes. I shut the door. And now… What the fuck is in the bathroom? Or better yet, who, is in the bathroom? Because let’s face it. This motherfucker did not find and fight with a leprechaun tonight. No way. There’s just no fuckin way.
I rush over to the bathroom and my brother leaps at my legs, and he’s holding onto me for dear life, begging me!
He says - “Please don’t untie it! It’s got magical powers! PLEASE!!!
Now, at this very moment? I am sort of hesitant about opening the bathroom door. But I snap out of it and open it. What the fuck. A leprechaun? No, I don’t think so.
I open the door…
“Holy shit.” - I said while covering my hands with my mouth. The floor was smeared in blood as if someone was dragged, leading to the huge cast iron tub. Smeared bloody handprints were all over the tub. And now I hear the faint moan coming from the tub. My legs are shaking and feel like they’re ready to give out on me. I was scared shitless.
“What did my brother do? Who is in that bathtub? I pray to God Katrina isn’t in there right now.” - I said to myself completely freaked out.
I slowly walk up to the bathtub…
And sure enough, there is a hogtied person lying in it with my brother's underwear stuffed in their mouth with a ripped t-shirt tied around their head and mouth, but… It’s not Katrina.
It’s a little person. You know, a dwarf? And… He’s literally dressed up in a leprechaun costume…
And how, on God's green earth did he end up here?
He has no idea I’m standing above him. I reach down to begin untying him but he begins squirming and screaming. I told him to relax and that I was here to help him.
And then My imbecile brother Alex, rushes into the bathroom and tackles me down. Stands up and begins shouting at this poor bastard hogtied in the tub - “Tell me where it is you greedy little fuck! Tell me!!!
I jumped to my feet and slapped my brother back to his childhood. Grabbed him by the throat, tripped him and threw him to the ground and said - “are you fuckin crazy? Do you want to go to prison for kidnapping? What in the fuck is the matter with you? You dumb fuck!!”
He then looks up at me with this pessimistic look on his face and says - “It’s a fucking leprechaun dood. A leprechaun.”
I was absolutely dumbfounded and furious at this point. I have this stranger in my Airbnb rental, hogtied and gagged and squirming and screaming and my brother thinks that he’s a leprechaun…
I can’t make this shit up.
He was so fucking high on those mushrooms. He was absolutely convinced that this man was a leprechaun. So… I had to play the game.
It was the only way to help this poor son of a bitch that my brother had kidnapped and hogtied in our Airbnb rental.
I calmly whispered and told him to please leave the bathroom so I could interrogate the leprechaun and find out where he was hiding the pot of gold.
My brother slowly stood up to his feet, face busted up, his cock and balls all shriveled and tight, looked at the man dressed up as a leprechaun, smiled at him with an evil grin and just, walked away…
And as he walked away, I told him to go and please put some clothes on, lay down in bed, and that I would handle the leprechaun. That I, would find out where the gold was hidden…
And that’s all I’m saying. I’m giving the computer back to my dumbass of a brother to finish off whatever else he wants to write.

• Back to “Alex”

Pretty outlandish right? I know. I know. You must think that I’m bat shit crazy huh? Okay so, to make the rest of this long story short, my brother Shane never told me what he did with the poor guy I hogtied and, well… i don’t remember how this guy came to be in my possession. I really don’t.
The only thing my brother Shane told me was that he ungagged him, untied him, and that he was extremely pissed off. And that he had compensated him for his troubles.
Man, I felt so horrible. I felt so horrible…
What I do remember though is waking up that following afternoon with my face all fucked up. Dehydrated with a tremendous splitting headache. I had no clue as to why I looked and felt the way I did. It was terrifying.
All of our luggage was packed and my brother was just sitting there, legs crossed and his arms folded.
Hey man… Take it from me. Don’t do fuckin drugs.
Regards, “Alex”

creepypasta #truescarystories #crazy #leprechaun #truestories

Disclaimer- This story may not be used without consent of its original author.

Hey, guys it’s me again. A lot has happened in the past few hours, but this post will be shorter because I am posting from a phone that barely works, but I’ll get into it.
after my panicking, I just figured my best option was to get out as soon as I could. I was not interested in becoming dinner for this thing. I hastily gathered all of my things, and Packed them in the boxes they came in. When it came time for me to load them into the truck, that was a lot harder for me. I had to muster up the courage just to quickly cram my stuff into my car and start it. It hummed to life and I floored it down the dirt path, the dust clouds swirling around the car until I slammed the brakes, causing one of the boxes to fly forward and hit the dashboard. In front of me was a tipped over green pickup truck, the front of it had massive slashes like hey were cut with a sword, and there was black smoke puffing out of the slashes, broken Boxes of eggs and canisters of milk were strewn all over the road, so we’re their contents. The door facing the sky was torn off with the same marks as on the front, and it laid on the side of the road. The upper tires were slashed into pieces and falling off of the wheels. When I looked through the windshield of the truck, I saw it smeared with handprints of blood, and I noticed movement. “Oh god that guy is still alive” I said out loud. I quickly scanned The area, making sure all was clear, before throwing open the door and sprinting towards the truck. I climbed up the bottom of the truck and crawled On top of the side. When I looked inside, I nearly threw up. Inside of the truck, there was a man, brown hair and mustache. He covered in blood and wheezing, his lower legs were shredded just like that chicken, and his guts were Spilling out of his belly. It looked like someone threw several water balloons filled to the brim with blood and bits of flesh. All over the car. I powered through the nausea, and reached out my hand. “Quick take my hand!” I yelled. He slowly raised his hand and when I tried to pull him up, He cried out in pain. “st..stop it.” He cried, “y..you need to go…. It.. it will be here…” “Theres no time! You can still be helped!” I yelled, but he just layed there, seeming to grow weaker by the second. I had no idea what to do. I fumbled for my phone, wiping the blood on my shirt, before calling 112 (the French 911) “help, there’s a man, I think he was attacked by something, you need to get over here now!” I yelled, “ok, Monsieur, calm down we are sending and ambulance. Where are you?” the man on the other end asked. I gave it to him, and 10 minutes later, a wailing ambulance sped down the dirt road and medics hopped out With bags. Clouds began darkening the sky as it started raining .“In the truck!” I yelled, pointing.I had to turn away while they lifted him out. I heard bits of their conversation, saying medical terms I didn’t understand, Later, one of the medics, a tired looking guy with Blonde hair says,”he’s dead. What on earth happened? I have never seen anything like this” he said. “I have no clue. I was driving down the road when I saw this.“ I replied. I took it this person probably had no idea about the creature, and I didn’t want him to think I was insane. “Best stay here until someone Can move that truck” he replied. That was the last thing I wanted. To stay out in the open. “I’ll call my employer he’ll sort this out” I replied, and pulled out me phone while he walked away to discuss with the other medics. The phone rung and he didn’t answer. I called again, and he picked up after like 4 rings. “What?” Cecil grunted. ”Look. Gerard was it? His truck got wrecked and he got gutted by whatever thing you have on this godforsaken farm. I’m not dealing with this merde. The medics want you here, and I’m leaving.” I practically spat into the phone. ”Wait there. I‘ll be there in 20 minutes” he replied, but I wasn’t having it. “No, I’m not dealing with this. I don’t want to be here for another moment! You have swindled me into this deal, and I won’t stand for it!” I yelled. “if you leav, he wil-“ He started, but I hung up without another word. I Hopped back into the car and turned the it around. I didn’t mention before, but there was a back exit that went along the river and north into town. Where I could get on the highway back home and away from this nightmare. I drove around the stone house , past the cattle pens, and along the field of sprouts until I reached a fence. I hopped out, the rain started pouring and I saw a flash of lightning, and the boom of thunder a few seconds later. I saw that the river Meuse was raging. I eventually opened the gste with one of my keys and left it in the lock. I drove onto a gravel road that ran along the river. As I drove, suddenly, I heard the faint sound of an old radio playing. Before K could find what was doing it, I heard an ear piercing screech, and I felt my heart drop into my stomach. In the blink of an eye the creature sprung from the trees. It was a tall, thin thing with long, greasy hair, wearing a torn and stained light blue uniform and helmet, It was splattered with new and old blood and mud, and opened it’s mouth at an inhumane amount revealing a maw of what I could only describe as red daggers of teeth. It lunged at my car, bringing it to a halt and making my slam my head on the wheel. I felt liquid pouring down my face and a splitting headachache. It forced one of its gangly arms through my windshield like it was nothing, sending a blizzard of glass everywhere, but I managed to drive foreward with the creature yelping and clinging as I floored in down the path. I sped down the road as it fell off finally, and I drove as fast as the car would go. Trees whooshed by as J heard the creture chasing me. the rain poured into my face, making it hard to see. I felt resistance as the car started slowing. Thst thing was on top of the car. I yelled as I started swerving while it started bending the metal upward. It couldn’t get its hand in and instead smashed its hand through the driver side window. It grabbed the wheel and violently yanked it, sending the car into a sharp right turn. It tried to force its head through the driver window but before it could, the car flew off the road, and smashed directly into a tree, making the thing fling off, my car spun in mid air, and the next thing I knew, the car was sinking into the flowing river. I frantically scrambled to unbuckle my belt, but water poured in through the open windows. It stung my eyes and got into my lungs. I finally unbuckled my seatbelt, and tried to climb out of the windshield When the car crashed into some underwater rock or mound, and as I was pulling myself out, the car must have hit me or something because at some point I went unconscious, and everything turned to fuzz after that. Everything was blurry after that. I remember voices, “quick get him out of the river!” “My god he‘d bleeding!” I remember bright light. I finally awoke in a hospital bed In a medium sized room. I was in a gown, and in the bed next to me, a brown haired boy with bright eyes was staring. “You’re awake” announced. “W..where am I?” I asked. He giggled, before saying “You’re in the hospital, Sedan, France.” God I was in a completely different region. I checked my phone which was miraculously functioning. It read 19:16 Pm (7:16) Last time I checked, it was only 11:00 am. The realization hit that all of my stuff was gone. My car, my PC, clothes, everything. That fact didn’t help my headache. I called a nurse over. “yes?” She asked in a bored sounding voice. “How much longer do I have to stay?” I asked, groggily. She flipped through the pages on her clipboard, saying “You’re free to go” “one more thing, where is the nearest train station? Do you know when The train to Paris leaves?” I asked. “It’s across the river, can‘t miss it. I think they leave for Paris every 3 hours.“ she responded before leaving. After I changed and paid my bill, I spent the night In a local hotel. It’s morning now when I’m posting this on the train. I still can’t believe I lived through this whole ordeal, I figure I can stay with my parents until I can get a proper job, but I think it’s safe to say I won’t be spending time In the countryside ever again. I think this will be my last post about this so I just want to say thanks for listening to my story. I’m glad this one turned out happier than most others on that farm.

I’d just reached that twilight state where the sedatives made everything seem slightly surreal – the pictures in the magazine I was holding seemed to be moving, and I was pointing them out to my wife, Marie-Anne, who suppressed a laugh in response.
So, for a moment I’d wondered if I’d simply imagined the emaciated man that had stumbled inside the hospital waiting room – but my wife appeared to see him too, because her smile faded as he began pounding on the plastic barrier at the check-in desk. We stared awkwardly as he shouted a jumbled string of nonsense at the poor hospital employee behind it.
His head snapped in our direction and as he approached us, his words finally coagulated into a coherent sentence.
“There’s something in here with me, please get it out.”
Before we could react, a nurse – who was wearing the brightest smiley face scrubs I’d ever seen – appeared and eyed the man warily, before turning to us cheerfully re-explain the procedure.
As she led me towards the double doors, I shot one worried look back at Marie-Anne – despite the waiting room being nearly empty, the guy had taken my seat as soon as I’d vacated it.
He appeared to have calmed down substantially, but I didn’t care for the too-wide grin he wore as he stared at her, or how he rubbed at his eyes in those frantic, twitchy motions. My wife smiled at me, gave me her ‘I’ll be fine’ look as she waved me on and pulled out a well-worn paperback.
My nurse and I passed a young woman in a hospital bed who smiled at me serenely, her head titled. There was something unsettling about her that I couldn’t put my finger on – maybe it was that unblinking gaze she kept trained on me, or her irregular, gulping breaths – as if she were still trying to figure out the art of breathing. For a moment, I almost thought I saw curling, delicate black threads emerging her lower eyelids, but I chalked that up to the sedation meds at the time.
.
It took me a moment to realize where I was.
I don’t remember much about the MRI itself, or for how long I had been trapped inside that tight cylinder – all I knew was that it was late afternoon when I went in, and pitch black outside by the time I came out.
I had 'come to' to the gentle whirring of the machine – a sound that would’ve almost been peaceful if I’d been hearing it from anywhere other than from inside that dark and suffocating tube. In my post sedation stupor, I instinctively tried to sit up and my nose made hard contact with the inside of the machine.
They had been kind enough to approve sedating me for the hour and a half long scan due to my claustrophobia but then apparently, they had just…forgotten about me? I pounded on the inside of that awful white tunnel and screamed until I was hoarse, yet still, no one came for me.
At one point, I felt moment of hope when cold, clammy hands tugged indelicately at my ankles, but eventually my would be rescuer seemed to have given up, because not long afterwards I was alone again.
I thought of Marie-Anne sitting in the waiting room and didn’t know how everyone could’ve forgotten about me – surely, she would’ve been worried when several hours had passed, and I still hadn’t returned?
I eventually managed to calm down enough to release the belt, and attempted to slowly inch my way out, feet first. I tried to keep my eyes shut and my breathing steady – tried not to focus on how my face was so close to the inside of the tunnel that I could feel my own breath echoed back onto it. I told myself the space, with its stale air and walls that nearly touched my shoulders on either side was not closing in around me. I tried to ignore the friction burns forming where my bare flesh drug against the interior.
Finally, I made it out to find that I was alone in the unlit room. For a moment, I wondered if the encounter with whomever had visited me in the darkness was just a fabrication of my still-drugged mind. The dried, dark residue around my ankles in the shape of long, slender fingers seemed to indicate otherwise.
The eerie silence, other than the thrum of the machine, was quickly shattered by awful, pained screaming that floated from down the dark hall. It was filled with misery, hopelessness – made even worse as it seamlessly transitioned into laughter.
That sick laughter never stopped – mirthless, crazed, it continued for the duration of my clumsy trek back towards the elevator.
At one point, I thought I saw small eyes gleaming at me from behind the glass panel in one of the darkened rooms, but I assured myself it was the last of the drugs in my system messing with my head.
Just the meds.
The light of the elevator was a welcome reprieve from the dark hallway – at least until I noticed the crimson streaks painted along the buttons and walls.
Once free from it, I shambled back towards the waiting room until I saw something that made me stop cold.
The handprints told a story, sloppily written in still drying blood on what was once an off-white floor.
Pull. Pull. Drag.
Based on the uneven and messy tracks, it seemed as if someone had been hauling themselves down the hallway using just their hands, the rest of them dragging along the dingy linoleum, leaving streaky crimson in their wake. The area was littered with what looked like long, black hairs that seemed to move on their own in response to my approach. At that point, I really, really hoped that I was just hallucinating.
The trail of blood and pulp looked to originate from the waiting room, and then continued past the point where the hallway forked out of sight. Based on the sheer volume of blood they’d lost, I wasn’t sure how they’d even managed to make it that far without passing out from shock.
The smell of it was overwhelming, inescapable because I’d accidentally stepped into the trail and could feel the still warm liquid as it seeped into my hospital-issued socks. I still couldn’t blink both my eyes in unison – but that very real-feeling sensation coupled with absolute lack of people and symphony of beeps emerging from the rooms on either side of the narrow hall around me was making it more difficult to convince myself that I was simply drugged out of my mind.
After a moment I realized that I could still faintly make out the wet dragging sound of whomever was crawling through the darkness.
Still woozy, and unsure if I could do anything for them, I just called out into the distance that I was going to get help. The sound of raw meat on linoleum paused for a few moments before resuming, growing louder. As if they’d changed direction and were heading back towards me.
At that realization, I suddenly felt dread gnawing at me, and I knew that I didn’t want them to reach me – I knew that something terrible would happen if they did.
I tried to pick up my pace – motivated by the increasingly loud, sickening, sound of pursuit behind me – as I continued my trek back towards the waiting room. The pattern left in blood from my still-saturated socks confirmed that I was weaving a bit as I walked. If I were there alone, I would’ve hauled ass out the emergency exit door as soon as I heard that scream – caught a glimpse of whatever that was lurking in the darkness in the floor below, but I could see Marie-Anne’s lime green hatchback in the parking lot through a window in the hall.
She was still inside, and I had to find her.
For a moment, a sick thought crossed my mind, maybe I already had found her – but no, I assured myself – my wife was not the thing crawling down the empty hallway behind me. She was fine. She’d still be sitting right where I’d seen her last.
Some of the doors to the occupied rooms were just slightly ajar, and the sounds coming from within, well… I almost preferred the laughter from the floor below in comparison.
I finally came across the nurses’ station – the one I had remembered being the last thing between myself and the doors to the waiting room – but what I saw there quickly killed any sense of relief that had been forming.
There were feet sticking out from just behind the counter that moved and twitched irregularly – the legs seemed to dance to an otherworldly melody that only their owner could hear.
Despite my better judgement, I stepped over the mess of gore to take a closer look.
I immediately regretted it.
I saw my nurse – the one who had taken me for the scan. I was so out of it before that I’d forgotten her name, but not her kind expression that had matched the faces on her trippy neon scrubs.
That smile, it was long gone.
There was still a jagged bit of ribs left above the hip bone but everything beyond that – the rest of her – was just… missing.
I stared, uncomprehending at first – it took a moment before I realized that the macabre dance was the result of something moving around just inside the gaping wound in what remained of her torso.
Many of the now familiar delicate hair-like threads spilled out of her body, moving in unison as the small tendrils looked to be in the process of slowly re-forming her missing ribs and spine.
It was like watching an otherworldly 3D printer for flesh and bone.
I had to tightly clamp a hand over my mouth – I was worried that if I started screaming, I wouldn’t be able to stop – and took a last long, sad look at her blood-soaked scrubs and flailing remains.
I sped up, and continued onward clumsily.
Despite what I’d told myself, I almost couldn’t believe it when I found my wife still sitting on a sticky, saturated chair in the waiting room. Her sweater was slashed in places and stained – an entire arm of it was missing. Spatters and small droplets freckled her cheeks as she stared, her eyes unfocused, at the book she was now holding upside down. She looked entirely uninjured and, yes, there was a fleeting moment during which I wondered where the blood around her had come from, but frankly I was too relieved to question it.
The entire room was in disarray, chairs toppled over, cushions ripped, but she didn’t seem even remotely fazed by the carnage around her.
I tried not to stare at the single sneaker that peeked out from under her chair, or the foot that was still inside.
She studied me for a moment before she seemed to recognize me – as if she had to flip through a series of mental flashcards first, but at the time I figured it was due whatever horrible things she had recently bore witness to.
As I led her towards the exit, I heard tapping behind the plastic panel at the check in desk. I made the mistake of looking and saw the young hospital employee from before, gripping the desk in a desperate attempt to stay upright. Those thin, black tendril-like threads emerged from empty sockets and the cavernous gap where his lower jaw had once been, weaving together and seamlessly blending into his skin before my eyes – repairing what likely should have been lethal injuries.
We were so close to escaping, when I heard a door open behind us. I ducked behind some chairs and tried to pull Marie-Anne down with me, but she stood firm. Shoes and the tattered, stained hems of brightly colored smiley face scrubs came into view – it seemed as if my nurse had simply got up and strolled away, unperturbed by the minor inconvenience of the entire top half of her body missing. My wife stared, but didn’t react at all to whatever it was that she was witnessing, and to my immense relief, the nurse made no attempt to approach her.
Eventually, what remained of the poor woman walked out the front doors, and disappeared into the darkness beyond the lights of the parking lot.
We did finally make it to our car, but we’re still here.
I can’t drive and Marie-Anne has just been sitting in the driver’s seat, staring at me. She’s been so quiet except for an occasional loud and irregular breath; I can’t remember the last time I saw her blink but I am starting to notice what appear to be those delicate black threads spill from under her eyes.
I called 911, but keep getting the dispatchers in the next county over. They keep routing me back to my own, but no one is answering.
I miss those fleeting moments when I thought that waking up trapped in the machine after a full-body MRI was going to be the worst part of my day.
I just want to go home.
I’m confused, I’m exhausted, and I have worst itch forming behind my eyes.
JFR

I’d just reached that twilight state where the sedatives made everything seem slightly surreal – the pictures in the magazine I was holding seemed to be moving, and I was pointing them out to my wife, Marie-Anne, who suppressed a laugh in response.
So, for a moment I’d wondered if I’d simply imagined the emaciated man that had stumbled inside the hospital waiting room – but my wife appeared to see him too, because her smile faded as he began pounding on the plastic barrier at the check-in desk. We stared awkwardly as he shouted a jumbled string of nonsense at the poor hospital employee behind it.
His head snapped in our direction and as he approached us, his words finally coagulated into a coherent sentence.
“There’s something in here with me, please get it out.”
Before we could react, a nurse – who was wearing the brightest smiley face scrubs I’d ever seen – appeared and eyed the man warily, before turning to us cheerfully re-explain the procedure.
As she led me towards the double doors, I shot one worried look back at Marie-Anne – despite the waiting room being nearly empty, the guy had taken my seat as soon as I’d vacated it.
He appeared to have calmed down substantially, but I didn’t care for the too-wide grin he wore as he stared at her, or how he rubbed at his eyes in those frantic, twitchy motions. My wife smiled at me, gave me her ‘I’ll be fine’ look as she waved me on and pulled out a well-worn paperback.
My nurse and I passed a young woman in a hospital bed who smiled at me serenely, her head titled. There was something unsettling about her that I couldn’t put my finger on – maybe it was that unblinking gaze she kept trained on me, or her irregular, gulping breaths – as if she were still trying to figure out the art of breathing. For a moment, I almost thought I saw curling, delicate black threads emerging her lower eyelids, but I chalked that up to the sedation meds at the time.
.
It took me a moment to realize where I was.
I don’t remember much about the MRI itself, or for how long I had been trapped inside that tight cylinder – all I knew was that it was late afternoon when I went in, and pitch black outside by the time I came out.
I had 'come to' to the gentle whirring of the machine – a sound that would’ve almost been peaceful if I’d been hearing it from anywhere other than from inside that dark and suffocating tube. In my post sedation stupor, I instinctively tried to sit up and my nose made hard contact with the inside of the machine.
They had been kind enough to approve sedating me for the hour and a half long scan due to my claustrophobia but then apparently, they had just…forgotten about me? I pounded on the inside of that awful white tunnel and screamed until I was hoarse, yet still, no one came for me.
At one point, I felt moment of hope when cold, clammy hands tugged indelicately at my ankles, but eventually my would be rescuer seemed to have given up, because not long afterwards I was alone again.
I thought of Marie-Anne sitting in the waiting room and didn’t know how everyone could’ve forgotten about me – surely, she would’ve been worried when several hours had passed, and I still hadn’t returned?
I eventually managed to calm down enough to release the belt, and attempted to slowly inch my way out, feet first. I tried to keep my eyes shut and my breathing steady – tried not to focus on how my face was so close to the inside of the tunnel that I could feel my own breath echoed back onto it. I told myself the space, with its stale air and walls that nearly touched my shoulders on either side was not closing in around me. I tried to ignore the friction burns forming where my bare flesh drug against the interior.
Finally, I made it out to find that I was alone in the unlit room. For a moment, I wondered if the encounter with whomever had visited me in the darkness was just a fabrication of my still-drugged mind. The dried, dark residue around my ankles in the shape of long, slender fingers seemed to indicate otherwise.
The eerie silence, other than the thrum of the machine, was quickly shattered by awful, pained screaming that floated from down the dark hall. It was filled with misery, hopelessness – made even worse as it seamlessly transitioned into laughter.
That sick laughter never stopped – mirthless, crazed, it continued for the duration of my clumsy trek back towards the elevator.
At one point, I thought I saw small eyes gleaming at me from behind the glass panel in one of the darkened rooms, but I assured myself it was the last of the drugs in my system messing with my head.
Just the meds.
The light of the elevator was a welcome reprieve from the dark hallway – at least until I noticed the crimson streaks painted along the buttons and walls.
Once free from it, I shambled back towards the waiting room until I saw something that made me stop cold.
The handprints told a story, sloppily written in still drying blood on what was once an off-white floor.
Pull. Pull. Drag.
Based on the uneven and messy tracks, it seemed as if someone had been hauling themselves down the hallway using just their hands, the rest of them dragging along the dingy linoleum, leaving streaky crimson in their wake. The area was littered with what looked like long, black hairs that seemed to move on their own in response to my approach. At that point, I really, really hoped that I was just hallucinating.
The trail of blood and pulp looked to originate from the waiting room, and then continued past the point where the hallway forked out of sight. Based on the sheer volume of blood they’d lost, I wasn’t sure how they’d even managed to make it that far without passing out from shock.
The smell of it was overwhelming, inescapable because I’d accidentally stepped into the trail and could feel the still warm liquid as it seeped into my hospital-issued socks. I still couldn’t blink both my eyes in unison – but that very real-feeling sensation coupled with absolute lack of people and symphony of beeps emerging from the rooms on either side of the narrow hall around me was making it more difficult to convince myself that I was simply drugged out of my mind.
After a moment I realized that I could still faintly make out the wet dragging sound of whomever was crawling through the darkness.
Still woozy, and unsure if I could do anything for them, I just called out into the distance that I was going to get help. The sound of raw meat on linoleum paused for a few moments before resuming, growing louder. As if they’d changed direction and were heading back towards me.
At that realization, I suddenly felt dread gnawing at me, and I knew that I didn’t want them to reach me – I knew that something terrible would happen if they did.
I tried to pick up my pace – motivated by the increasingly loud, sickening, sound of pursuit behind me – as I continued my trek back towards the waiting room. The pattern left in blood from my still-saturated socks confirmed that I was weaving a bit as I walked. If I were there alone, I would’ve hauled ass out the emergency exit door as soon as I heard that scream – caught a glimpse of whatever that was lurking in the darkness in the floor below, but I could see Marie-Anne’s lime green hatchback in the parking lot through a window in the hall.
She was still inside, and I had to find her.
For a moment, a sick thought crossed my mind, maybe I already had found her – but no, I assured myself – my wife was not the thing crawling down the empty hallway behind me. She was fine. She’d still be sitting right where I’d seen her last.
Some of the doors to the occupied rooms were just slightly ajar, and the sounds coming from within, well… I almost preferred the laughter from the floor below in comparison.
I finally came across the nurses’ station – the one I had remembered being the last thing between myself and the doors to the waiting room – but what I saw there quickly killed any sense of relief that had been forming.
There were feet sticking out from just behind the counter that moved and twitched irregularly – the legs seemed to dance to an otherworldly melody that only their owner could hear.
Despite my better judgement, I stepped over the mess of gore to take a closer look.
I immediately regretted it.
I saw my nurse – the one who had taken me for the scan. I was so out of it before that I’d forgotten her name, but not her kind expression that had matched the faces on her trippy neon scrubs.
That smile, it was long gone.
There was still a jagged bit of ribs left above the hip bone but everything beyond that – the rest of her – was just… missing.
I stared, uncomprehending at first – it took a moment before I realized that the macabre dance was the result of something moving around just inside the gaping wound in what remained of her torso.
Many of the now familiar delicate hair-like threads spilled out of her body, moving in unison as the small tendrils looked to be in the process of slowly re-forming her missing ribs and spine.
It was like watching an otherworldly 3D printer for flesh and bone.
I had to tightly clamp a hand over my mouth – I was worried that if I started screaming, I wouldn’t be able to stop – and took a last long, sad look at her blood-soaked scrubs and flailing remains.
I sped up, and continued onward clumsily.
Despite what I’d told myself, I almost couldn’t believe it when I found my wife still sitting on a sticky, saturated chair in the waiting room. Her sweater was slashed in places and stained – an entire arm of it was missing. Spatters and small droplets freckled her cheeks as she stared, her eyes unfocused, at the book she was now holding upside down. She looked entirely uninjured and, yes, there was a fleeting moment during which I wondered where the blood around her had come from, but frankly I was too relieved to question it.
The entire room was in disarray, chairs toppled over, cushions ripped, but she didn’t seem even remotely fazed by the carnage around her.
I tried not to stare at the single sneaker that peeked out from under her chair, or the foot that was still inside.
She studied me for a moment before she seemed to recognize me – as if she had to flip through a series of mental flashcards first, but at the time I figured it was due whatever horrible things she had recently bore witness to.
As I led her towards the exit, I heard tapping behind the plastic panel at the check in desk. I made the mistake of looking and saw the young hospital employee from before, gripping the desk in a desperate attempt to stay upright. Those thin, black tendril-like threads emerged from empty sockets and the cavernous gap where his lower jaw had once been, weaving together and seamlessly blending into his skin before my eyes – repairing what likely should have been lethal injuries.
We were so close to escaping, when I heard a door open behind us. I ducked behind some chairs and tried to pull Marie-Anne down with me, but she stood firm. Shoes and the tattered, stained hems of brightly colored smiley face scrubs came into view – it seemed as if my nurse had simply got up and strolled away, unperturbed by the minor inconvenience of the entire top half of her body missing. My wife stared, but didn’t react at all to whatever it was that she was witnessing, and to my immense relief, the nurse made no attempt to approach her.
Eventually, what remained of the poor woman walked out the front doors, and disappeared into the darkness beyond the lights of the parking lot.
We did finally make it to our car, but we’re still here.
I can’t drive and Marie-Anne has just been sitting in the driver’s seat, staring at me. She’s been so quiet except for an occasional loud and irregular breath; I can’t remember the last time I saw her blink but I am starting to notice what appear to be those delicate black threads spill from under her eyes.
I called 911, but keep getting the dispatchers in the next county over. They keep routing me back to my own, but no one is answering.
I miss those fleeting moments when I thought that waking up trapped in the machine after a full-body MRI was going to be the worst part of my day.
I just want to go home.
I’m confused, I’m exhausted, and I have worst itch forming behind my eyes.

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.

Sumerian(Anu) - [Huwana(Sphinx) is unable to move forward, nor is he able to move back", but they crept up on him from behind and the way to the secret abode of the Anu-Naki was no longer blocked
Morphometric study of nonhuman handprint in Wadi Sura "results show that the rock art small hands differ significantly in size, proportions and morphology from human hands. Potential biases between the different samples were quantified, but their average range cannot explain the observed differences. Evidence suggest that the hand stencils belong to an animal, most probably a reptile" -near Egypt, in the Cave of the Swimmers. I find it ironic Dogon tradition describe how the Nummo landed, dug a hole & filled it with water.
The Dead Sea Scrolls- War Scroll :"For the In[structor, the Rule of] the War. The first attack of the Sons of Light shall be undertaken against the forces of the Sons of Darkness, the army of Belial." ( Egypt- Horus v Set)
The instructor mentioned is our The Magnificent Queen, Ninmah affectionately known as Mammi and is the origin of the word mother. She taught Circumcision, and the Omega symbol was the tool she'd cut umbilical cords with.
Enki/Ninti gave us the power of speech, with Foxp2 , a conservative gene which doesnt change much over time. show that the human form of the FOXP2 gene increases synaptic plasticity and dendrite connectivity in the basal ganglia. These results partly explain the enhanced capability of cortico-basal ganglia circuits in the human brain that regulate critical aspects of language, cognition, and motor control." Foxp2 Language Evolution (Homo sapiens-Man the wise)
Previously i recommended this book, the author was present for some rituals while she was researching & was allowed to capture some fascinating accounts to bring to the West. One involves Healing by frequency from a craft, and more. Chap 26 is called "our elders were friends with the Sky People", and other accounts describe a massive ufo that came down & a group of Indigenous elders got on board for a "meeting lasting a few hours" .
DR Ardy Clarke Sky People Mesoamerica -"direct descendants of the Sky People, whose blood remains pure live underground. Some say they serve as ambassadors to the Sky People who live in the heavens. They come back to meet with the ambassadors and to learn about the condition of the Earth and its people.”
The Star Travelers came from the sky. We were mutual friends in the cosmos. They helped us and we helped them. The wise men say that in the old days, some of them married our women and took them away to the stars, but the women chose to go with them. They were not taken against their will. The Star People never stayed on Earth. They visited. We called them ancestors because they are older than us. They were not our relatives. They were the ancestors. Their civilization was older. They had more knowledge. Therefore we respected them for that knowledge
This is my first time posting here, but ive lurked on this sub for a while & theres alot of really entertaining & informative posts. So i wanted to share some of my people's traditions, since theres alot of misinformation on the Dogon & our actual accounts have been sensationalized & misrepresented. I began giving Dogon tradition here Dogon, Hopi, Naga-Maya , I'm sure most see why being a Jaliyaa was relevant. The Sumerians Uruk List of Kings & Sages up until today have been relatives. The lineages of the Children of Enki are Hopi, Dogon, Ainu, Ohum, Shakti, San Agustin, Buddhas(Tibet), Naga-Maya-Itza. (R1b-V88 is Dogon/Yoruba. But ALL of us are Anu/Ainu/Aunu people ) & come from those Sages( Apkallu). Im a descendant of 7 Uttuabzu, “who ascended to heaven".. uttu” = “count, number” “abzu” = “cosmic underground water.” So Utuabzu “kept count of the numbers".I'm the Dogons Jaliyaa, Recordkeeper of the People, it's the same with Inca the "Ka-pac' 'Keeper of the Serpent wisdom'. When Sundiata founded Imperial Mali, one of the first things he was to do was continue the Kings/Sages custom, you can see here. Every Jaliyaa and every Sage has always been Mende. Ive provided genetic,artifacts, linguistics, etc for every corner of the globe and in pt 1 the Ghost hominid who bred with Dogon and 2 population (SW US, China).
In Pt 1 I gave a brief overview of the Involvement of Enki/Ninti & some of the history of the Children of Enki including the war described in ancient texts. Jesus' group the Essenes say the 'company of the Divine Join the congregation of Mortals. Enki had fallen in love with his creation, becoming the freedom fighter for us against the Elohim(Council of rulers) earning that "trickstetraitor" moniker.
The most advanced civilizations were matrileneal, Pharoah was the woman her consort was king. Our customs have always been handed down by them, the BirdMan depictions are all called "mediators" , at E. Island the God makemake gave orders through Tangata Manu(Birdman Cult). The Pyramid was the Great House, woman's house. Isis, Astarte, Ninmah were 'Mistress of the pyramid, Woman who makes towers, etc. In more than 30 cultures. The Snakes are our instructors, demiurges who shaped our bodies, but not our soul, which is not theirs, because it is uncreated. We are born from light, just like them. But our terrestrial vehicle, this triple body of flesh and spirit, we owe it to them. I wanted to make the Gateway Experience threads first to show the knowledge itself, Egyptian “gods” were the very same as the Sumerian Anunnaki, and the ancient Egyptian esoteric texts were none other than complex scientific knowledge of the Anunnaki. THAT was the origin of the Renaissance: ancient and difficult to understand system of scientific knowledge.
Some of the female Pharoah were not human beings. How many are described as having been extremely attractive? How many wore jewelry showing serpents, or female Dieties who are Serpents or "SnakeFaced"?
The Nummo (Phoenician- Numo) craft the Kora-NARs design was the basis for sacred geometry, the shape, design, and proportions of the Ark express all of the principles and science humanity would need. The 7 lineages mission was to cultivate the land and grow the celestial grains so that everyone could live in abundance. They were also supposed to reproduce and spread throughout the world bringing the spiritual technologies contained within the Kora-Na with them. The eight ancestors and their offspring were charged with conducting important ceremonies such as the Sigui ceremony, which was the Henti in Egypt.
"Emissaries of the Serpent culture", we have always been sent abroad.. how many ancient scripts cannot be deciphered today?Ainu Language is said to be an Enigma, or isolated, (Easter Island, Olmec. Egypt -nobody can read RongoRongo, MandeKan, or MeduNtr, the Basque language is one of the clearest offshoots) .. Dogon dialect the Andes this is a Jaliyaa (Brazil Tablet).
Nergal' is "the Healer" in the Sumerian lore. In ancient Sumer, the Anunnaki (Anun-NAKI ) are also called Heavenly Serpent, Sun Serpent, or Serpent and the Rainbow, were the Serpents kings. Sumerian text say Enkis 10 hybrids were made rulers...like Noah, the Kings/Patriarchs were part-Saurian(Lu.Lu-One who's been mixed).. Diodorus Siculus Wrote about Danaan brotherhood of initiates and magicians called Telchines who could shape-shift into any form..
The serpent cults were the first worldwide priesthood, its always been Service to others not service to self.
Healing Temples "They were a hereditary priesthood who at first only admitted family into the medical Brotherhood". Those depicted as Birdmen were seen as protectors of the people & carried water from the abzu that would ward off evil spirits. Their figurines would be placed outside of homes to protect from archons, that feed off negative , dark energies.
Previous posts ive made on this topic Here How Archonic entities feed off human beings
The "Testament of Amram", describes the experience of Amram in which "an angel and a demon" were wrestling over his soul:
"[I saw Watchers] in my vision, the dream-vision. Two [men] were fighting over me. I asked them, ’who are you, that you are thus empowered over me?’ They answered me, ’We [have been em]powered and rule over all Mankind.’ They said to me, ’Which of us do yo[u] choose to rule [you]?’ I raised my eyes and looked"
[One] of them was terrifying in his appearance, [like a s]erpent, [his] cl[oak] many colored yet very dark. ... [And I looked again], and ... in his appearance, his visage like a viper

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.

Narration Key
[...] - Pause for Listener’s response, about 5 or 6 seconds
[.] - Pause for Listener’s response, about 2 or 3 seconds
*insert sound effect* - Sound effects and narration cues (coughs, sighs, etc.)
“Insert text” - Character dialogue
(Insert text) - Descriptive actions or context, not to be narrated, sound effects are optional
Usage: I don’t mind if this script is used, monetized, or edited, as long as I’m given credit where credit is due.
As per usual, all of my scripts are free to be gender-bent!
Note: Oh boy, prepare yourself because we got some feelings and a new character coming in!
Tags: [MMAA4A] [AMAA4A] [Researcher x Space Pirate Listener] [Not so Much Stranded in Space] [On the Run] [Plot Based] [Allies to ?] [Sci-fi] [Snarky Speaker] [Betrayal] [Poor, Poor Ace] [Confession] [Lore?] [On the bright side, you no longer have to deal with the TB!]
Original Title: Of Plights and Piracy
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Context: After a few weeks of drifting in space, your one-month deadline has arrived. You try to break the bad news to Ace, but you’ve stalled for too long. Will you try to save him, or will you prove to yourself that you are what everyone says you’ll always be?
Setting: Research Spacecraft PTRD-173.
Script:
(Ace and Jackie’s Re-Bot are working with the TB, and the Re-Bot is in the containment cell.)
Ace: “No, no, no! Jackie, you’re doing it all wrong!”
Jackie: “The Re-Bot is still calibrating its new extended reach, I am trying to be as accurate as possible with your vague instructions.”
Ace: “Are you saying I’m bad at giving instructions?”
Jackie: “... Yes.”
Ace: “Oh, well, that would have been nice to know ten minutes ago.”
Jackie: “I did not realize it would be this difficult to follow your instructions with the remaining calibration margin. I will make sure it does not happen again.”
Ace: “Yeah, you better.”
(Ace sets something on top of the counter.)
Ace: “Well, if that’s the case, go on ahead and come out. I don’t want you in there for too long.”
Jackie: “I would prefer it if the Re-Bot was not almost crushed out of commission again after recently being restored.”
Ace: “Heh, yeah. I didn’t think it was going to try to nurse you like a baby; that was pretty funny.”
Jackie: “Sometimes my processors suggest that you want something bad to happen to me.”
Ace: *Slightly sarcastic tone* “What? Noo, you’re like- one of the best AIs I’ve worked with! I would never want something bad to happen to you or your Robot.”
Jackie: “Re-Bot.”
Ace: “Yeah, that’s what I said.”
(The listener walks into the lab.)
[.]
Ace: “Oh, hey you~! You done with your pirate stuff?”
[.]
Ace: “Yeah, that. You done installing the totally not illegal maps of the Uncharted?”
[.]
Jackie: “The mapping documents of zones 3 through 6 have been scanned and installed into my navigation system’s directory. I should have full analysis within the hour.”
Ace: “Cool, cool. It will be nice to know where exactly we’re going now.”
[.]
Ace: “Well, forgive my feeble mind for not being able to understand a bunch of numbers and codes. You’re a pirate, you’ve been around here a lot more than I have.”
[.]
Ace: “True, I suppose… Maybe you could teach me sometime.”
[.]
Ace: “Yeah… I think I’d like that.”
[...]
Ace: “The TB? It’s going okay. Jackie’s little tin can is great for environmental studies. With the way the TB acts when the frequency emitter is on, I think that it sees it as a baby or something.”
[.]
Ace: “I know, right? I didn’t think that thing could be so docile with something… It’s kinda freaky.”
[.]
Ace: “Well, I’m used to it trying to kill us, so… And it almost did.”
[.]
Ace: “Yeah, well, I’m just glad that it didn’t hurt you any more than it already did. I thought for sure you were a goner.”
[.]
Ace: “Oh, I know you can handle yourself, but that doesn’t mean you get to do dangerous shit like that. I hope it’s not a hobby or something, ‘cause I don’t think my biological heart could take another scare like that.”
[.]
Ace: “Hopefully you’ll stick to your word.”
[.]
Jackie: “Excuse me, Captain?”
Ace: “Yeah?”
Jackie: “I have received a message from an unknown sender. It’s encrypted with a version of CyberByte.”
Ace: “Encrypted? Is it Phoenix Tech?”
[.]
Jackie: “It is not. Phoenix Technologies does not use CyberByte, but rather their own encryption programs. They consider CyberByte to be too invasive.”
[.]
Ace: “Odd… Is it one of yours?”
[.]
Ace: “Alright… I’ll leave you to it, then.”
(The listener walks to the control room.)
[...]
Jackie: “Shall I upload the message?”
[.]
Jackie: “Upon further inspection, it appears to be an audio message. I have managed to get past all of the encryptions, shall I relay the message for you?”
[.]
Jackie: “Relaying message.”
[.]
Khyllis: “Your time is up, Skinwalker. Be here in 30 minutes so we can… fulfill our arrangement… You know where to go.”
Jackie: “End of message.”
[.]
Jackie: “Co-Captain? May I ask you who that was?”
[.]
Jackie: “I see. He is a business partner of yours… What did he mean by ‘arrangement’? Did he recently buy something from you?”
[.]
Jackie: “I’m not quite sure what that means. Could you elaborate?”
[.]
Jackie: “Shall I inform the Captain of this transaction?”
[.]
Jackie: “As you wish. I shall let you inform him, then.”
[.]
(The listener walks back to the lab.)
[...]
Ace: “Welcome back!”
[.]
Ace: “So, what was the message about?”
[.]
Ace: “Business… It’s not some illegal bullshit, is it? Because I may like you, but I’m not getting caught committing a felony.”
[.]
Ace: “A transaction… uh-huh, whatever you say.”
[.]
Ace: “I have a bad feeling you’re about to say that we have to hyper-jump.”
[.]
Ace: “Yeah… That’s what I thought.”
[.]
Ace: “Eeehh, go on and get it over with. It better not be longer than an hour.”
[.]
Ace: “A couple of minutes? I think I can live with that.”
[.]
Ace: “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”
(Ace and the listener walk back to the Control Room.)
[...]
Jackie: “Warning: The hyperdrive coordinates you entered are outside of the Intergalactic Peace and Affairs Administration’s domain. Traveling at high speeds through an Uncharted area could result in travel malfunctions. Do you wish to proceed?”
[.]
Jackie: “Proceeding to hyper-jump.”
[Small time skip.]
[.]
Ace: *Gag* “Ugh, I’ll never get used to that. It feels like my insides are being vibrated at ungodly speeds.”
[.]
Ace: “No, I’m okay. Where are we?”
Jackie: “It appears that we are in Zone 5 of the Uncharted. Planet Dezzrha, currently in the beginning of stage 5 of the IPAA’s Expansive Immigration Process. Dezzrha’s climate mainly consists of hot and humid regions with a lot of vegetation. Because of this, ships typically dock on one of the five Hubs located inside dryer areas.”
[.]
Jackie: “Do you wish to dock on Hub-503?”
[.]
Jackie: “Preparing for docking process. Docking process should be complete in no more than three minutes.”
[...]
Ace: “Hey… are you okay?”
[.]
Ace: “Well, you’ve been acting weird these past few days.”
[.]
Ace: “I don’t know, you’ve barely been eating, I don’t even know if you sleep half the time. I was trying to ignore it, but it's hard not to.”
[.]
Ace: *Nervous tone* “Was it that thing that happened like last week? If I made you uncomfortable, I promise, we can just forget that it ever happened and-”
[.]
Ace: “No? Then what is it?”
[.]
Ace: “Whatever it is, you know you can tell me, right?”
[.]
Ace: “Hey, what happened? I thought we were making good progress!”
[.]
Ace: “Don’t turn this around on me! I’m not the one acting strange, here!”
[.]
Ace: “No, I’m not gonna leave it alone!”
[.]
Ace: *Agitated tone* “Please. You and I both know something’s wrong, but for some reason, you won’t tell me! Is it because you still don’t trust me?”
[.]
Ace: “Well, if that’s not it, then what is?”
[.]
Ace: “God, you can be so insufferable!”
[.]
Ace: “Are you seriously asking me why I care right now?”
Jackie: “Docking process complete. Hub interface fully accessible.”
[.]
Ace: “You're such a fucking idiot!”
[.]
Ace: “Hah! Isn’t it obvious? I care because-!”
[.]
Ace: *Calmer, quieter tone* “I care… because I love you, okay?”
[...]
Ace: “... What do you mean? Do what to you?”
[.]
(The listener pulls out their plasma pistol.)
Ace: *Concerned tone* “... Sweetheart? Why are you pointing that at me?”
[.]
Ace: “What?”
[.]
(The listener puts something into the computer and Jackie glitches.)
Jackie: “Re-reregistration request accepted. Current registered Captain handprint is needed for any further changes regarding the registered role of Captain.”
[.]
Ace: *Heartbroken tone* “You want me to make you Captain? I thought…”
[.]
Ace: “...”
(Ace slowly puts his hand on a scanner.)
Jackie: “Handprint confirmed. Please state the name of the new registered Captain.”
[.]
Jackie: “Registration change confirmed. I look forward to working with you, *glitched sound*”
[.]
Jackie: “Captain, my sensors detect three entities requesting entrance. Shall I grant them access?”
[.]
Jackie: “Granting access. I shall inform them that you will meet them in the docking area.”
Khyllis: “No need. I’m already here.”
[.]
Ace: “What?... What is this?”
Khyllis: “Still held on to him, I see… I assume you found something good in the month I gave you, Skinwalker?”
[.]
Ace: “A month?... Is that why you wanted me to research for you?”
[.]
Ace: *Increasingly upset* “You… you were using me? This whole time?”
[.]
Ace: “This whole time… This whole time, you were lying? Did any of this mean anything to you? After what I told you?”
[.]
Khyllis: “He talks too much.”
[.]
Khyllis: “You! Shut him up. His voice is irritating.”
Ace: “What? No!”
Lackey: “Sir.”
Ace: “Hey- Let go of me!”
(The lackey steps closer to Ace and injects him with something.)
Lackey: “Shut it, human.”
[.]
Ace: “I was right… You really are just a backstabbing pirate.”
(Ace falls limp and the lackey catches him.)
Khyllis: “Go put him in a cell. He might be useful.”
[.]
Lackey: “Yes, Captain Khyllis.”
(The lackey walks away.)
[.]
Khyllis: “Oh, don’t worry. Depending on what you found, I might just keep him alive.”
[.]
Khyllis: “Now, let’s get to business, shall we?”
[.]
Khyllis: “This… ‘TB’, I assume it's still in decent condition?”
[.]
Khyllis: “Good, good. I expect nothing less from the great Skinwalker.”
[.]
Khyllis: “And you. Tell the others to begin retrieving the animal. It’s not to be damaged, you hear? I want it in peak condition for when it’s bought.”
Lackey 2: “Of course, Captain.”
(Lackey 2 walks away.)
[.]
Khyllis: “So, did you get any information?”
[.]
(The listener hands Khyllis a flash drive.)
Khyllis: “I knew you wouldn't disappoint me. You hardly ever do.”
(Suddenly the systems restart.)
[.]
Khyllis: “I wouldn’t worry about that. Consider it… a precaution. I know how you are when you get attached.”
[.]
Jackie: “Warning: Core system corruption detected.”
Ryzer: “You’ll be a lot more than just corrupted when I’m done with you.”
Jackie: “I’m sorry,” *Glitches* “but I cannot allow you to corrupt my files.”
Ryzer: “And yet you will… Despite all of your feeble, futile efforts.”
[.]
Khyllis: “You’re familiar with Ryzer, yes? He’s gotten a few new… upgrades since the last time you met.”
[.]
Jackie: “Warning: 57% of all known files have been corrupted. Initiating emergency core backup.”
Ryzer: “No, no… you won't hide from me. I’ll get every single code and file you own… You’ll be nothing but a blip in the matrix.”
[.]
Jackie: “Captain?” *Glitching sounds*
[.]
Jackie: “Warning:- Warning:”
(Jackie glitches out before eventually going silent.)
[...]
Ryzer: “Hm. That took longer than I anticipated. It must have been a new kind of code… Interesting. I’ll have to look over the feedback.”
[.]
Khyllis: “Good, now go make sure those knuckleheads don’t screw anything up.”
Ryzer: *Halfhearted groan* “Whatever.”
[...]
Khyllis: “I’m not quite sure what you mean.”
[.]
Khyllis: *Chuckle* “Come now, Skinwalker. You know I’m a man of caution; I don’t like taking chances I’m uncertain of.”
[.]
Khyllis: “What? Don’t tell me you liked that human.”
[.]
Khyllis: “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You know better than anyone that you shouldn’t get attached. All it will do is get you hurt in the end.”
[.]
Khyllis: “You did this to yourself. Don’t take it out on me.”
[.]
Khyllis: “Stop. You’re acting like a child, and I am growing impatient with your attitude. You knew better than to get attached to things you knew wouldn’t last. Do not blame me for your childish incompetence.”
[.]
Khyllis: “You're speaking out of line.”
(Khyllis takes the listener and pins them to the control panel.)
Khyllis: “I took you from the darkest depths of hell and gave you a second chance.”
[.]
Khyllis: “Without me, you'd be rotting in a cell being poked and prodded by some so-called scientists or dead in the middle of nowhere. I took you under my wing. I taught you how to survive. And I will not tolerate disrespect.”
[.]
Khyllis: “One call and you’re right back to where you started, abandoned and alone. So if I were you, I would remember my place, Skinwalker.”
[.]
Khyllis: “Good.”
(Khyllis releases the listener.)
Khyllis: “I’m glad we’re back on the same page. You know I hate having to punish you.”
[.]
Khyllis: “You’re my most prized possession. My greatest accomplishment.”
[.]
Khyllis: “I made you. Don’t forget that.”
[...]
Ryzer: “The animal’s been transported successfully. No issues are worth reporting.”
Khyllis: “Good. Tell my men to take it to the holding cells. I’ll meet them there.”
[.]
Khyllis: “Well, I should be getting back. I’ll let you know if something comes up.”
[.]
(Khyllis turns and begins walking away.)
Khyllis: “As always, it was lovely talking to you again, Skinwalker. You'll receive your pay within the hour.”
[.]
Khyllis: “Oh, and you can keep the ship. Consider it a bonus for the extra information.”
[...]
[End.]
I definitely imagine Ryzer sounding like Ultron, they just give off that vibe. Slightly sadistic and totally over everything. And Khyllis seems to have a short fuse, uh oh! We got to see how he really is with Skinwalker, I kinda feel bad for them tbh
Anyway, I'm writing part 10, and I'm trying so hard not to make it 20 pages lmaoaoao

When I was a kid my father would take me hunting. It was always one of my favorite things to do with him. We would grab our rifles, load up the truck, and drive out to some property our family owned to hunt for the day.
Once we got to the property, we would hop on our four wheeler and drive a couple miles deeper into the woods. My dad always took his pistol with him whenever we would go hunting, just in case we ran into some kind of predator.
Even if we didn’t see anything, just sitting in the quiet woods with my father was enough for me. But when we did kill a deer, or whatever we were hunting, it brought so much excitement to the both of us. We would get the shakes and I could feel how proud he was of me every time. I can almost remember every hunt we went on together. It really created a bond between us.
Quite a few years have passed now and I’ve grown up to have a family of my own, but I still think about those hunting trips.
Then one day I got the news that I prayed would never come. Another hunter had found my dad dead. He had gone out to our old hunting grounds by himself, which I had begged him not to do just in case something like this happened, but he was stubborn in his old age. As he was leaving he had a lost his way in the dark and drove the four wheeler off a cliff…
My mother had passed a few years prior and I am an only child, so I had to go identify the body. When I saw my father he was almost unrecognizable, the detectives said that he had been there for a while and most likely some wild animals had got to him first. It was worse than I could have possibly imagined. He was so disfigured and dismembered that it was like a pack of bears had tore him apart.
The only reason that I knew for sure it was my father was because of a tattoo he had on what was left of his arm. It was the words “My buddy” with my handprint beside it from when I was a baby.
The detectives also said that when they found him he had his pistol in his hand with an empty magazine. Apparently he had been alive after he drove off the cliff and probably used the pistol to try and signal for help. Hearing this destroyed me… I should have been there, I should have went with him and maybe this wouldn’t have happened.
My dad was cremated and we had a small funeral. Saying goodbye to my dad was one of the hardest things that I’ve ever gone through. After the funeral was over and we were home, I decided that I would go hunting with my dad one more time.
The next morning I got up before the sun rose. I kissed my wife and son goodbye and told them I would be back later that night and that I loved them. Then I grabbed a small ziplock bag, went to my father’s urn, and poured some of his ashes into the bag. I finished packing up the truck and went on my way back to where my father and I had been hunting since I was a kid. The same place where my father would take his last breath.
When I got there, all of these old memories came flooding back. I was going to have one last hunting trip with my dad. My heart was heavy but I hopped on the four wheeler and continued on my journey into the woods
When I got to our old tree stand I stopped and looked around. Not much had changed. It was like I had stepped back in time to when I had been here as a kid. I took a breath and started climbing up the tree stand.
When I reached the top I was surprised to see that my dad’s hunting pack was still there. He was always careful not to leave anything behind after a hunt. So this was pretty unusual. I thought to myself “must have been getting forgetful in his old age too”.
As I sat there the sun began to rise and I could see the woods around me. It was peaceful… I took out my dad’s ashes, poured them out, and watched the breeze carry them away. I tear fell from my eye as I said “I love you, dad” and then sat there in silence. Listening to the world around me. I looked through my dad’s bag and found an old picture of us from when I killed my first deer. It was nice knowing he had kept this in his bag after all these years.
A few hours had gone by now and not much had happened. No deer had walked by and the only other living things I saw were a couple of squirrels and some buzzards circling something in the distance.
To be honest I didn’t really expect to kill anything. I really just wanted to sit and feel close to my dad.
A few more hours went by and I heard it. The sound of a deer walking close to me. It’s almost impossible to mistake if you know what you’re listening for. I waiting for it to come into the clearing and sure enough here in came.
It was a rather large buck and once again I started to get the shakes. My heart was pounding and I readied my rifle. As it walked into my sights I took a deep breath, made a quick noise to grab its attention and make it stop in its tracks, and then I fired.
The shot ripped through the air and went straight into the deers side. It wasn’t a clean shot though and the deer, though obviously injured, ran off into the woods. Guess I’ve gotten rusty. It was going to take some time for this deer to go down, so looks like I’m going to be doing some tracking.
After a few minutes I grabbed my things and my dad’s pack and loaded them onto the four wheeler. It was going to be getting dark soon so I better make this quick. I grabbed my pistol, a flashlight, and my knife and started tracking.
I quickly found the blood trail and started following it deeper into the woods. As I was walking I began hearing sounds. It sounded like some animal running through the trees around me, but not close enough to where I could see it. Then I heard what sounded like something trying to imitate other animals by grunting and letting out distorted screeches.
This was weird but I mean it’s the woods. There’s all kinds of animals in here.
I kept following the trail until it abruptly stopped. I combed the area and, nothing. No sign of the deer. It was much darker now so as much as I hated to leave without it, I needed to head back.
I started my trek back to the four wheeler when I heard the noises again, but this time they were much closer than before. Something wasn’t right. I could feel it. That somber reminiscent feeling I had earlier had been replaced with confusion and fear. I picked up my pace so I could get back as fast as possible.
It was completely dark now, the only light I had to guide me was the moon and my flashlight. All of a sudden I heard a loud “thud” directly behind me. I quickly turned around to see the deer I had shot, lying on the ground a meet 20 feet in front of me.
Where did this thing come from??? I hadn’t passed it before. It was like it had just fell from the sky.
I inched my way closer until I was right on top of it. Something was wrong, very wrong. It had been mutilated. Its insides were ripped out and it was covered in slashes and what looked like bite marks.
In my panic and confusion I didn’t hear the sound coming from nearby, until I was standing over the deer.
It sounded like chewing. I looked all around to find where it was coming from but I didn’t see anything. Then I felt something hit the back of my neck. Something warm and red. It was blood.
I heard a loud “crack” and then it hit me, the sound wasn’t coming from around me, it was coming from above me.
I slowly looked up into the trees above and what I saw looked like a scene straight out of a movie. There was blood and guts strewn out through the branches and then my light fell on where the sound was coming from.
I saw what looked like a very large, pale white, humanoid creature. It had long nails like daggers and a large mouth filled with shark like teeth. It was eating the deer’s heart.
Then its gaze met mine and I could see that its eyes were solid black. It gave me an evil smile, like it was about to do something sinister, something it had done many times before.
it began to turn its body towards me, blood dripping from its face and hands. It moved into position, like a cat getting ready to pounce, and after a moment of silence it let out a blood curdling scream.
And I knew, the hunt was on.
I broke into a sprint, running as fast as I could to get back to my four wheeler. But this thing was fast, too fast for me to beat in a footrace.
It was jumping from tree to tree, screaming and what sounded like laughing the whole time.
I could feel it getting closer and closer with each bound it took. I could hear the branches bending and snapping as it glided through them with ease.
In my haste I had lost where I was, I kept running and running as fast as I could hoping to catch a glimpse of something familiar. But then I reached a cliff and I skidded to a stop. I looked over and could see something, it was old crime scene tape. This must have been where my dad died.
I thought to myself “This is it for me.”There was nowhere else I could go. I turned around to face this thing head on. I couldn’t run anymore. At this point I had only one other option, if I’m going to survive this and have any chance of seeing my family again I had to face this thing head on.
It leapt out of the trees and landed roughly 15 yards in front of me. I slowly reached down to my hip and retrieved my pistol.
This was it, I was going to die.
It let out a low growl and positioned itself onto all fours. In an instant it was darting towards me in full stride. I had to think fast. It leapt at me with its arms wide open, ready to take me down.
I quickly dived to the right, just barely missing its grasp. And I fired a shot. bang
The thing let out a pained scream and tumbled past me, falling over the cliff.
I couldn’t believe it. I was alive. Not one was I alive but I had actually managed to take this thing down.
I looked over the cliff to see the thing writhing in pain at the bottom. I took this opportunity to run back to where I could remember coming from.
Eventually I did find where I had been and I retraced my steps back to the tree stand and four wheeler.
The pained screams of the thing had faded out so I quickly hopped on the four wheeler, started it up, and began making my way back out of the woods.
As I was flying down the trail back to my truck, I spotted something in my headlights. But it wasn’t the thing that had been trying to kill me before. It was a man. I could tell he was naked, very dirty, and clearly injured.
As I got closer the man looked familiar. It couldn’t be… it’s impossible… I just spread his ashes!
It was my dad… I slammed on the brakes, nearly causing the four wheeler to flip in the process. I ran over to my dad and looked at him. He was bleeding from his side and in a lot of pain.
“How… how are you alive?”
He looked at me and said, “please help me” and then staggered to the ground. I quickly dove to help him back up.
When he reached his arm out to me for support, I noticed something was missing…
His tattoo. It wasn’t there. My blood ran cold and I took a few steps back. This wasn’t my father…
I pulled out my knife, continued walking back and said “you’re not my father”.
He looked at me with that evil grin I had seen earlier in the trees and then he began to convulse. I watched as his skin began to rip and tear away. The sounds of bones breaking and flesh falling to the ground was almost too much for my stomach to handle.
This thing tore off what looked like my father’s skin to reveal the same thing I had seen before.
It lunged at me so I stuck out my knife and I felt the blade pierce the creatures chest. It fell on top of me and I felt a searing pain shoot into my shoulder. The creature laid on me motionless but not before I had been bitten.
I rolled it off of me and quickly ran back to the four wheeler and continued flying down the path.
When I reached my truck a wave of relief rushed over me. It was over. I could go home, get some help, and report the incident to the authorities.
I didn’t bother loading everything back into the truck. I just wanted to get out of there as fast as humanly possible. I got in and floored it out of there.
On my way home the burning in my shoulder kept getting worse. The pain was almost unbearable. My vision started to go blurry and I kept falling in and out of consciousness. But I had to stay awake, I had to fight this and make it back home.
I finally pulled into the house and ran to go inside. My wife met me at the door. She had been worried sick, and for good reason. She saw that I was obviously shaken up and hurt. She began frantically asking “what happened” and “are you okay?! What’s wrong???” I told her I’m okay but to call the police.
My wife did as I had asked and called 911. My son was crying over all the commotion and my wife took him to his room to try and keep him calm.
I reassured her that everything was going to be fine and then I went to take a shower and clean my wound before the police showed up.
As I got into the shower the pain hadn’t subsided and I was still in and out of consciousness.
As I was washing myself off I noticed that my hair was falling out in big clumps and the skin around where I had been bitten was beginning to peel off. On top of that my teeth and nails began to fall out as if something was pushing them out from underneath. The whole experience was excruciating.
I screamed for my wife and she ran into the bathroom and flung open the shower curtain. When I looked at her all I saw was red. Then she let out a blood curdling scream and I lost consciousness.
Next thing I know I wake up in prison strapped to a bed and I’m facing 7 counts of murder. 2 officers, 3 paramedics… and my wife and son….
I don’t know how I got here or what happened after I blacked out. I feel different… I feel angry. I feel volatile. I feel stronger. My senses feel enhanced. Bust most of all, I feel… Hungry.
I don’t know what happened to me, but there is one thing that I know for sure.
The hunt is on.

When I was a kid my father would take me hunting. It was always one of my favorite things to do with him. We would grab our rifles, load up the truck, and drive out to some property our family owned to hunt for the day.
Once we got to the property, we would hop on our four wheeler and drive a couple miles deeper into the woods. My dad always took his pistol with him whenever we would go hunting, just in case we ran into some kind of predator.
Even if we didn’t see anything, just sitting in the quiet woods with my father was enough for me. But when we did kill a deer, or whatever we were hunting, it brought so much excitement to the both of us. We would get the shakes and I could feel how proud he was of me every time. I can almost remember every hunt we went on together. It really created a bond between us.
Quite a few years have passed now and I’ve grown up to have a family of my own, but I still think about those hunting trips.
Then one day I got the news that I prayed would never come. Another hunter had found my dad dead. He had gone out to our old hunting grounds by himself, which I had begged him not to do just in case something like this happened, but he was stubborn in his old age. As he was leaving he had a lost his way in the dark and drove the four wheeler off a cliff…
My mother had passed a few years prior and I am an only child, so I had to go identify the body. When I saw my father he was almost unrecognizable, the detectives said that he had been there for a while and most likely some wild animals had got to him first. It was worse than I could have possibly imagined. He was so disfigured and dismembered that it was like a pack of bears had tore him apart.
The only reason that I knew for sure it was my father was because of a tattoo he had on what was left of his arm. It was the words “My buddy” with my handprint beside it from when I was a baby.
The detectives also said that when they found him he had his pistol in his hand with an empty magazine. Apparently he had been alive after he drove off the cliff and probably used the pistol to try and signal for help. Hearing this destroyed me… I should have been there, I should have went with him and maybe this wouldn’t have happened.
My dad was cremated and we had a small funeral. Saying goodbye to my dad was one of the hardest things that I’ve ever gone through. After the funeral was over and we were home, I decided that I would go hunting with my dad one more time.
The next morning I got up before the sun rose. I kissed my wife and son goodbye and told them I would be back later that night and that I loved them. Then I grabbed a small ziplock bag, went to my father’s urn, and poured some of his ashes into the bag. I finished packing up the truck and went on my way back to where my father and I had been hunting since I was a kid. The same place where my father would take his last breath.
When I got there, all of these old memories came flooding back. I was going to have one last hunting trip with my dad. My heart was heavy but I hopped on the four wheeler and continued on my journey into the woods
When I got to our old tree stand I stopped and looked around. Not much had changed. It was like I had stepped back in time to when I had been here as a kid. I took a breath and started climbing up the tree stand.
When I reached the top I was surprised to see that my dad’s hunting pack was still there. He was always careful not to leave anything behind after a hunt. So this was pretty unusual. I thought to myself “must have been getting forgetful in his old age too”.
As I sat there the sun began to rise and I could see the woods around me. It was peaceful… I took out my dad’s ashes, poured them out, and watched the breeze carry them away. I tear fell from my eye as I said “I love you, dad” and then sat there in silence. Listening to the world around me. I looked through my dad’s bag and found an old picture of us from when I killed my first deer. It was nice knowing he had kept this in his bag after all these years.
A few hours had gone by now and not much had happened. No deer had walked by and the only other living things I saw were a couple of squirrels and some buzzards circling something in the distance.
To be honest I didn’t really expect to kill anything. I really just wanted to sit and feel close to my dad.
A few more hours went by and I heard it. The sound of a deer walking close to me. It’s almost impossible to mistake if you know what you’re listening for. I waiting for it to come into the clearing and sure enough here in came.
It was a rather large buck and once again I started to get the shakes. My heart was pounding and I readied my rifle. As it walked into my sights I took a deep breath, made a quick noise to grab its attention and make it stop in its tracks, and then I fired.
The shot ripped through the air and went straight into the deers side. It wasn’t a clean shot though and the deer, though obviously injured, ran off into the woods. Guess I’ve gotten rusty. It was going to take some time for this deer to go down, so looks like I’m going to be doing some tracking.
After a few minutes I grabbed my things and my dad’s pack and loaded them onto the four wheeler. It was going to be getting dark soon so I better make this quick. I grabbed my pistol, a flashlight, and my knife and started tracking.
I quickly found the blood trail and started following it deeper into the woods. As I was walking I began hearing sounds. It sounded like some animal running through the trees around me, but not close enough to where I could see it. Then I heard what sounded like something trying to imitate other animals by grunting and letting out distorted screeches.
This was weird but I mean it’s the woods. There’s all kinds of animals in here.
I kept following the trail until it abruptly stopped. I combed the area and, nothing. No sign of the deer. It was much darker now so as much as I hated to leave without it, I needed to head back.
I started my trek back to the four wheeler when I heard the noises again, but this time they were much closer than before. Something wasn’t right. I could feel it. That somber reminiscent feeling I had earlier had been replaced with confusion and fear. I picked up my pace so I could get back as fast as possible.
It was completely dark now, the only light I had to guide me was the moon and my flashlight. All of a sudden I heard a loud “thud” directly behind me. I quickly turned around to see the deer I had shot, lying on the ground a meet 20 feet in front of me.
Where did this thing come from??? I hadn’t passed it before. It was like it had just fell from the sky.
I inched my way closer until I was right on top of it. Something was wrong, very wrong. It had been mutilated. Its insides were ripped out and it was covered in slashes and what looked like bite marks.
In my panic and confusion I didn’t hear the sound coming from nearby, until I was standing over the deer.
It sounded like chewing. I looked all around to find where it was coming from but I didn’t see anything. Then I felt something hit the back of my neck. Something warm and red. It was blood.
I heard a loud “crack” and then it hit me, the sound wasn’t coming from around me, it was coming from above me.
I slowly looked up into the trees above and what I saw looked like a scene straight out of a movie. There was blood and guts strewn out through the branches and then my light fell on where the sound was coming from.
I saw what looked like a very large, pale white, humanoid creature. It had long nails like daggers and a large mouth filled with shark like teeth. It was eating the deer’s heart.
Then its gaze met mine and I could see that its eyes were solid black. It gave me an evil smile, like it was about to do something sinister, something it had done many times before.
it began to turn its body towards me, blood dripping from its face and hands. It moved into position, like a cat getting ready to pounce, and after a moment of silence it let out a blood curdling scream.
And I knew, the hunt was on.
I broke into a sprint, running as fast as I could to get back to my four wheeler. But this thing was fast, too fast for me to beat in a footrace.
It was jumping from tree to tree, screaming and what sounded like laughing the whole time.
I could feel it getting closer and closer with each bound it took. I could hear the branches bending and snapping as it glided through them with ease.
In my haste I had lost where I was, I kept running and running as fast as I could hoping to catch a glimpse of something familiar. But then I reached a cliff and I skidded to a stop. I looked over and could see something, it was old crime scene tape. This must have been where my dad died.
I thought to myself “This is it for me.”There was nowhere else I could go. I turned around to face this thing head on. I couldn’t run anymore. At this point I had only one other option, if I’m going to survive this and have any chance of seeing my family again I had to face this thing head on.
It leapt out of the trees and landed roughly 15 yards in front of me. I slowly reached down to my hip and retrieved my pistol.
This was it, I was going to die.
It let out a low growl and positioned itself onto all fours. In an instant it was darting towards me in full stride. I had to think fast. It leapt at me with its arms wide open, ready to take me down.
I quickly dived to the right, just barely missing its grasp. And I fired a shot. bang
The thing let out a pained scream and tumbled past me, falling over the cliff.
I couldn’t believe it. I was alive. Not one was I alive but I had actually managed to take this thing down.
I looked over the cliff to see the thing writhing in pain at the bottom. I took this opportunity to run back to where I could remember coming from.
Eventually I did find where I had been and I retraced my steps back to the tree stand and four wheeler.
The pained screams of the thing had faded out so I quickly hopped on the four wheeler, started it up, and began making my way back out of the woods.
As I was flying down the trail back to my truck, I spotted something in my headlights. But it wasn’t the thing that had been trying to kill me before. It was a man. I could tell he was naked, very dirty, and clearly injured.
As I got closer the man looked familiar. It couldn’t be… it’s impossible… I just spread his ashes!
It was my dad… I slammed on the brakes, nearly causing the four wheeler to flip in the process. I ran over to my dad and looked at him. He was bleeding from his side and in a lot of pain.
“How… how are you alive?”
He looked at me and said, “please help me” and then staggered to the ground. I quickly dove to help him back up.
When he reached his arm out to me for support, I noticed something was missing…
His tattoo. It wasn’t there. My blood ran cold and I took a few steps back. This wasn’t my father…
I pulled out my knife, continued walking back and said “you’re not my father”.
He looked at me with that evil grin I had seen earlier in the trees and then he began to convulse. I watched as his skin began to rip and tear away. The sounds of bones breaking and flesh falling to the ground was almost too much for my stomach to handle.
This thing tore off what looked like my father’s skin to reveal the same thing I had seen before.
It lunged at me so I stuck out my knife and I felt the blade pierce the creatures chest. It fell on top of me and I felt a searing pain shoot into my shoulder. The creature laid on me motionless but not before I had been bitten.
I rolled it off of me and quickly ran back to the four wheeler and continued flying down the path.
When I reached my truck a wave of relief rushed over me. It was over. I could go home, get some help, and report the incident to the authorities.
I didn’t bother loading everything back into the truck. I just wanted to get out of there as fast as humanly possible. I got in and floored it out of there.
On my way home the burning in my shoulder kept getting worse. The pain was almost unbearable. My vision started to go blurry and I kept falling in and out of consciousness. But I had to stay awake, I had to fight this and make it back home.
I finally pulled into the house and ran to go inside. My wife met me at the door. She had been worried sick, and for good reason. She saw that I was obviously shaken up and hurt. She began frantically asking “what happened” and “are you okay?! What’s wrong???” I told her I’m okay but to call the police.
My wife did as I had asked and called 911. My son was crying over all the commotion and my wife took him to his room to try and keep him calm.
I reassured her that everything was going to be fine and then I went to take a shower and clean my wound before the police showed up.
As I got into the shower the pain hadn’t subsided and I was still in and out of consciousness.
As I was washing myself off I noticed that my hair was falling out in big clumps and the skin around where I had been bitten was beginning to peel off. On top of that my teeth and nails began to fall out as if something was pushing them out from underneath. The whole experience was excruciating.
I screamed for my wife and she ran into the bathroom and flung open the shower curtain. When I looked at her all I saw was red. Then she let out a blood curdling scream and I lost consciousness.
Next thing I know I wake up in prison strapped to a bed and I’m facing 7 counts of murder. 2 officers, 3 paramedics… and my wife and son….
I don’t know how I got here or what happened after I blacked out. I feel different… I feel angry. I feel volatile. I feel stronger. My senses feel enhanced. Bust most of all, I feel… Hungry.
I don’t know what happened to me, but there is one thing that I know for sure.
The hunt is on.

When I was a kid my father would take me hunting. It was always one of my favorite things to do with him. We would grab our rifles, load up the truck, and drive out to some property our family owned to hunt for the day.
Once we got to the property, we would hop on our four wheeler and drive a couple miles deeper into the woods. My dad always took his pistol with him whenever we would go hunting, just in case we ran into some kind of predator.
Even if we didn’t see anything, just sitting in the quiet woods with my father was enough for me. But when we did kill a deer, or whatever we were hunting, it brought so much excitement to the both of us. We would get the shakes and I could feel how proud he was of me every time. I can almost remember every hunt we went on together. It really created a bond between us.
Quite a few years have passed now and I’ve grown up to have a family of my own, but I still think about those hunting trips.
Then one day I got the news that I prayed would never come. Another hunter had found my dad dead. He had gone out to our old hunting grounds by himself, which I had begged him not to do just in case something like this happened, but he was stubborn in his old age. As he was leaving he had a lost his way in the dark and drove the four wheeler off a cliff…
My mother had passed a few years prior and I am an only child, so I had to go identify the body. When I saw my father he was almost unrecognizable, the detectives said that he had been there for a while and most likely some wild animals had got to him first. It was worse than I could have possibly imagined. He was so disfigured and dismembered that it was like a pack of bears had tore him apart.
The only reason that I knew for sure it was my father was because of a tattoo he had on what was left of his arm. It was the words “My buddy” with my handprint beside it from when I was a baby.
The detectives also said that when they found him he had his pistol in his hand with an empty magazine. Apparently he had been alive after he drove off the cliff and probably used the pistol to try and signal for help. Hearing this destroyed me… I should have been there, I should have went with him and maybe this wouldn’t have happened.
My dad was cremated and we had a small funeral. Saying goodbye to my dad was one of the hardest things that I’ve ever gone through. After the funeral was over and we were home, I decided that I would go hunting with my dad one more time.
The next morning I got up before the sun rose. I kissed my wife and son goodbye and told them I would be back later that night and that I loved them. Then I grabbed a small ziplock bag, went to my father’s urn, and poured some of his ashes into the bag. I finished packing up the truck and went on my way back to where my father and I had been hunting since I was a kid. The same place where my father would take his last breath.
When I got there, all of these old memories came flooding back. I was going to have one last hunting trip with my dad. My heart was heavy but I hopped on the four wheeler and continued on my journey into the woods
When I got to our old tree stand I stopped and looked around. Not much had changed. It was like I had stepped back in time to when I had been here as a kid. I took a breath and started climbing up the tree stand.
When I reached the top I was surprised to see that my dad’s hunting pack was still there. He was always careful not to leave anything behind after a hunt. So this was pretty unusual. I thought to myself “must have been getting forgetful in his old age too”.
As I sat there the sun began to rise and I could see the woods around me. It was peaceful… I took out my dad’s ashes, poured them out, and watched the breeze carry them away. I tear fell from my eye as I said “I love you, dad” and then sat there in silence. Listening to the world around me. I looked through my dad’s bag and found an old picture of us from when I killed my first deer. It was nice knowing he had kept this in his bag after all these years.
A few hours had gone by now and not much had happened. No deer had walked by and the only other living things I saw were a couple of squirrels and some buzzards circling something in the distance.
To be honest I didn’t really expect to kill anything. I really just wanted to sit and feel close to my dad.
A few more hours went by and I heard it. The sound of a deer walking close to me. It’s almost impossible to mistake if you know what you’re listening for. I waiting for it to come into the clearing and sure enough here in came.
It was a rather large buck and once again I started to get the shakes. My heart was pounding and I readied my rifle. As it walked into my sights I took a deep breath, made a quick noise to grab its attention and make it stop in its tracks, and then I fired.
The shot ripped through the air and went straight into the deers side. It wasn’t a clean shot though and the deer, though obviously injured, ran off into the woods. Guess I’ve gotten rusty. It was going to take some time for this deer to go down, so looks like I’m going to be doing some tracking.
After a few minutes I grabbed my things and my dad’s pack and loaded them onto the four wheeler. It was going to be getting dark soon so I better make this quick. I grabbed my pistol, a flashlight, and my knife and started tracking.
I quickly found the blood trail and started following it deeper into the woods. As I was walking I began hearing sounds. It sounded like some animal running through the trees around me, but not close enough to where I could see it. Then I heard what sounded like something trying to imitate other animals by grunting and letting out distorted screeches.
This was weird but I mean it’s the woods. There’s all kinds of animals in here.
I kept following the trail until it abruptly stopped. I combed the area and, nothing. No sign of the deer. It was much darker now so as much as I hated to leave without it, I needed to head back.
I started my trek back to the four wheeler when I heard the noises again, but this time they were much closer than before. Something wasn’t right. I could feel it. That somber reminiscent feeling I had earlier had been replaced with confusion and fear. I picked up my pace so I could get back as fast as possible.
It was completely dark now, the only light I had to guide me was the moon and my flashlight. All of a sudden I heard a loud “thud” directly behind me. I quickly turned around to see the deer I had shot, lying on the ground a meet 20 feet in front of me.
Where did this thing come from??? I hadn’t passed it before. It was like it had just fell from the sky.
I inched my way closer until I was right on top of it. Something was wrong, very wrong. It had been mutilated. Its insides were ripped out and it was covered in slashes and what looked like bite marks.
In my panic and confusion I didn’t hear the sound coming from nearby, until I was standing over the deer.
It sounded like chewing. I looked all around to find where it was coming from but I didn’t see anything. Then I felt something hit the back of my neck. Something warm and red. It was blood.
I heard a loud “crack” and then it hit me, the sound wasn’t coming from around me, it was coming from above me.
I slowly looked up into the trees above and what I saw looked like a scene straight out of a movie. There was blood and guts strewn out through the branches and then my light fell on where the sound was coming from.
I saw what looked like a very large, pale white, humanoid creature. It had long nails like daggers and a large mouth filled with shark like teeth. It was eating the deer’s heart.
Then its gaze met mine and I could see that its eyes were solid black. It gave me an evil smile, like it was about to do something sinister, something it had done many times before.
it began to turn its body towards me, blood dripping from its face and hands. It moved into position, like a cat getting ready to pounce, and after a moment of silence it let out a blood curdling scream.
And I knew, the hunt was on.
I broke into a sprint, running as fast as I could to get back to my four wheeler. But this thing was fast, too fast for me to beat in a footrace.
It was jumping from tree to tree, screaming and what sounded like laughing the whole time.
I could feel it getting closer and closer with each bound it took. I could hear the branches bending and snapping as it glided through them with ease.
In my haste I had lost where I was, I kept running and running as fast as I could hoping to catch a glimpse of something familiar. But then I reached a cliff and I skidded to a stop. I looked over and could see something, it was old crime scene tape. This must have been where my dad died.
I thought to myself “This is it for me.”There was nowhere else I could go. I turned around to face this thing head on. I couldn’t run anymore. At this point I had only one other option, if I’m going to survive this and have any chance of seeing my family again I had to face this thing head on.
It leapt out of the trees and landed roughly 15 yards in front of me. I slowly reached down to my hip and retrieved my pistol.
This was it, I was going to die.
It let out a low growl and positioned itself onto all fours. In an instant it was darting towards me in full stride. I had to think fast. It leapt at me with its arms wide open, ready to take me down.
I quickly dived to the right, just barely missing its grasp. And I fired a shot. bang
The thing let out a pained scream and tumbled past me, falling over the cliff.
I couldn’t believe it. I was alive. Not one was I alive but I had actually managed to take this thing down.
I looked over the cliff to see the thing writhing in pain at the bottom. I took this opportunity to run back to where I could remember coming from.
Eventually I did find where I had been and I retraced my steps back to the tree stand and four wheeler.
The pained screams of the thing had faded out so I quickly hopped on the four wheeler, started it up, and began making my way back out of the woods.
As I was flying down the trail back to my truck, I spotted something in my headlights. But it wasn’t the thing that had been trying to kill me before. It was a man. I could tell he was naked, very dirty, and clearly injured.
As I got closer the man looked familiar. It couldn’t be… it’s impossible… I just spread his ashes!
It was my dad… I slammed on the brakes, nearly causing the four wheeler to flip in the process. I ran over to my dad and looked at him. He was bleeding from his side and in a lot of pain.
“How… how are you alive?”
He looked at me and said, “please help me” and then staggered to the ground. I quickly dove to help him back up.
When he reached his arm out to me for support, I noticed something was missing…
His tattoo. It wasn’t there. My blood ran cold and I took a few steps back. This wasn’t my father…
I pulled out my knife, continued walking back and said “you’re not my father”.
He looked at me with that evil grin I had seen earlier in the trees and then he began to convulse. I watched as his skin began to rip and tear away. The sounds of bones breaking and flesh falling to the ground was almost too much for my stomach to handle.
This thing tore off what looked like my father’s skin to reveal the same thing I had seen before.
It lunged at me so I stuck out my knife and I felt the blade pierce the creatures chest. It fell on top of me and I felt a searing pain shoot into my shoulder. The creature laid on me motionless but not before I had been bitten.
I rolled it off of me and quickly ran back to the four wheeler and continued flying down the path.
When I reached my truck a wave of relief rushed over me. It was over. I could go home, get some help, and report the incident to the authorities.
I didn’t bother loading everything back into the truck. I just wanted to get out of there as fast as humanly possible. I got in and floored it out of there.
On my way home the burning in my shoulder kept getting worse. The pain was almost unbearable. My vision started to go blurry and I kept falling in and out of consciousness. But I had to stay awake, I had to fight this and make it back home.
I finally pulled into the house and ran to go inside. My wife met me at the door. She had been worried sick, and for good reason. She saw that I was obviously shaken up and hurt. She began frantically asking “what happened” and “are you okay?! What’s wrong???” I told her I’m okay but to call the police.
My wife did as I had asked and called 911. My son was crying over all the commotion and my wife took him to his room to try and keep him calm.
I reassured her that everything was going to be fine and then I went to take a shower and clean my wound before the police showed up.
As I got into the shower the pain hadn’t subsided and I was still in and out of consciousness.
As I was washing myself off I noticed that my hair was falling out in big clumps and the skin around where I had been bitten was beginning to peel off. On top of that my teeth and nails began to fall out as if something was pushing them out from underneath. The whole experience was excruciating.
I screamed for my wife and she ran into the bathroom and flung open the shower curtain. When I looked at her all I saw was red. Then she let out a blood curdling scream and I lost consciousness.
Next thing I know I wake up in prison strapped to a bed and I’m facing 7 counts of murder. 2 officers, 3 paramedics… and my wife and son….
I don’t know how I got here or what happened after I blacked out. I feel different… I feel angry. I feel volatile. I feel stronger. My senses feel enhanced. Bust most of all, I feel… Hungry.
I don’t know what happened to me, but there is one thing that I know for sure.
The hunt is on.

Until I attended a drawing workshop at Disneyland, I always considered drawing to be a childish thing. I know there’s some irony there, but Disney does bring out the kid in us all.
We were walking off lunch when we passed the sign:
Learn to draw Donald Duck with a real Disney animator!
It made sense to let our stomachs settle before riding Big Thunder Mountain. It was also around 86 F, so an air-conditioned studio was quite appealing.
Turns out I love to draw! When we got home, l invested in some materials and started drawing things around the apartment. As I improved, it evolved into landscapes.
Drawing became my biggest passion, though something I hadn’t attempted was the human body. I asked some friends if they would pose, but they were too shy. So I looked online for life drawing classes, but the nearest I could find was some 3 hour drive away.
After talking about it with a friend, she had an idea.
“How much is that class, Isaac?”
“$50 an hour.”
“So why don't you advertise for a model for like $40 an hour? I think that’s reasonable.”
It was something I hadn’t considered. “I’d also have complete control over poses. You’re a genius!”
“That’s if anyone is interested,” she said. “How many people do you think are willing to come to a stranger’s apartment to be drawn?”
A lot, it turns out. I put an ad on Craigslist seeking a life model. I had over 30 responses! After filtering the trolls and creeps, I arranged to meet Selina, a 35 year old experienced life model, in a local bar. She was happy to pose for me.
She came to my apartment the following week. I attached a large white sheet to a wall in my living room as a makeshift backdrop.
“You’re probably used to a more professional studio setup,” I said.
“Not at all,” she said. “It does exactly what it says on the tin.”
As she started to undress, I didn’t know where to look. It was quite a surreal moment in more ways than one.
“Are you okay, Isaac?” she asked.
“I’ll be honest,” I said. “This is the first time I’ve seen a naked woman in person.”
She chuckled. “Say no more. Would you like me to take the lead?”
“I would appreciate it, thanks.”
She held various poses while I sketched her with charcoal. By the end of the hour, it didn’t feel strange at all. Ever the professional, she put me at ease.
Selina came by once a week for the couple of months that followed. She was very encouraging and complimented my work. In that time, I invested in a proper backdrop, having enjoyed the experience and intending on continuing for as long as my passion for drawing remained.
One week, she dropped some bad news.
“This will be the last time I can visit,” she said. “I’m moving away, kind of a last-minute thing.”
“Oh no,” I said. “Is it a positive move? Is everything okay?”
“Yes, it’s definitely for a good reason.”
“Well, I’m happy for you. I’ll miss this, though.”
“Me too,” she said. “But you’ll find someone else.”
I nodded. “You’ll always be my first time.”
She laughed. “If you’re interested, I have someone in mind. Can I give him your number?”
“If you recommend him, then sure!”
“He's also very easy on the eyes,” she winked. As much as I’d miss Selina, I liked the idea of having a different body type to draw.
I used the bathroom as she got dressed after our session. When I returned, she was holding a tissue to her hand. I could see blood.
“What happened?” I asked.
“My darn pocket mirror shattered in my bag,” she grimaced.
“Ouch, you poor thing! I’ll grab a towel.”
“No need,” she said. “It’s only a scratch, really.”
Fortunately, I had some bandages in my drawer of random stuff.
“Bit more than a scratch,” I said as I helped her clean it. There was a deep wound on her palm. “I think you should go to the ER.”
“You’re sweet, Isaac, but a little dramatic.”
We hugged goodbye. It felt strange that it was potentially the last time I’d see her and wished it hadn’t ended that way.
A week or so later, I had a text message from an unknown number. He introduced himself as Alex and said he was interested in modelling. We arranged to meet in a bar one evening. I only had a physical description to go on, but he stuck out from the crowd. He was the only one wearing shades. His hair was just long enough to tuck behind his ears, and so lustrous he could do shampoo commercials! I put him at around 30.
“Alex? I’m Isaac.” I shook his hand. “What are you drinking?”
“I’m not much of a drinker, to be honest,” he said.
“Soda, juice?”
He shook his head. “Nothing for me, thanks.”
“Fair enough, man,” I said, getting a Corona for myself. Then we went and sat in a booth. “So, you know Selina from life modelling?”
“No,” he said. “We work together occasionally.”
“Ah, but not modelling?”
He shook his head. “I’ve never done it before.”
“Oh, I assumed that’s why Selina set this up.”
“I mentioned it was something I’d be interested in myself. You gotta try new things in life, right? Otherwise it’s dull.”
“I agree,” I said. “Though I hasten to add, I'm not promising excitement. You’ll just be required to pose for around 15 minutes. Then change position, rinse, and repeat for an hour or so.”
“And you just draw me?” he asked.
“Exactly!”
“Naked?”
“Not if you’re uncomfortable with that, but ideally wearing as little as possible. Saying that out loud sounds weird. I’m not a creep. The whole point is that I want to experience drawing the human body and all its intricacies.”
“I have no problem being naked,” he said. “I’m not embarrassed of my body.”
I could tell he had a great physique, but there was one thing that could be a deal breaker.
“Weird question, but can I see your eyes?”
The eyes are the window to the soul. His shades hid that all-important feature.
“Sure,” he said, leaning over the table and lifting his shades. They were at first an intense black, though his pupils constricted to reveal shimmering blue-green irises. I was mesmerized.
“Any good?” he asked, lowering the shades and interrupting an extended silence.
I cleared my throat. “Y-yeah, yes, absolutely.”
I felt my face heat up, then I joined him as he let out a laugh. “When do you want me?”
A few nights later, Alex stood at my apartment door. He was still wearing the shades. A little pretentious, perhaps, but he looked good.
“Nice place,” he said, looking around.
“It’s not much, but it’s home. Great view, though!” I was on the fifth floor overlooking a park. I got lucky, as the other side of the building overlooks a parking garage.
Alex approached my A3 drawing pad, which was perched on an easel. The last drawing of Selina was on the front page. She was turned to the side, looking over her shoulder with an intense expression, long hair cascading down to her buttocks, an arm covering her breasts.
“Isaac, this is incredible! She looks like a goddess.”
“Thank you,” I said proudly. “She really inspired me.”
“I can tell. It looks just like her. I can’t wait to see what you do with me!” With that, he started removing his clothes. I was glad that I didn’t have to awkwardly mention that he needed to strip off.
“So, are the shades your signature?” I asked, preparing a fresh page.
“You mean are you always this much of a douche?” he teased.
“Not at all,” I laughed. “They suit you.”
“Thanks. It’s actually due to light sensitivity. It can get a bit uncomfortable under bright lights.”
“I can dim them,” I said. “Maybe light a few candles instead.”
“It’s fine. I can deal with it for an hour or so.”
“I’m gonna do that anyway,” I said. “Candlelight illuminates the body in a completely different way. I’m intrigued about that perspective.”
I dimmed the lights and lit some candles around the room. Alex removed his shades and stood in a pair of white CK briefs. His body was like an Italian sculpture. Even with mood lighting, his sparkling eyes popped. Attractive is an understatement.
“On or off?” he asked, his thumbs hooked into the waistband.
“Leave them on for now,” I said, placing a chair in front of the backdrop. “Just sit and relax. Try a few different positions until you feel comfortable.”
He stretched a bit, then propped one arm up on the back of the chair, resting the other on his thigh. “How’s this?”
“Do you think you can hold that pose for the next 15 minutes?”
“Sure,” he said.
“Then it’s perfect to start. Look in my direction but not directly at me. Focus on something over my shoulder.”
I began to draw with charcoal. Having only experienced drawing Selina at that point, chest hair was a new challenge, too. Alex remained completely still. He didn’t shift or indicate that he was uncomfortable at all.
“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” I asked.
“Pretty sure,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
“I guess you just look so natural. I admire your confidence.”
“You’re not confident?” he asked.
“Not take my clothes off and pose for a complete stranger, confident,” I laughed. “I doubt Michelangelo would have been inspired by this.”
“You look fine from over here,” he smiled, turning his head slightly.
I felt myself blush and chuckled. “Hey, don't move.”
“Sorry, very unprofessional,” he said, returning to his previous position.
When I was happy with what I had, I asked him to pose standing, but this time from behind.
“How’s this?” he asked. When I turned back, he was holding a pose, though he’d removed his briefs.
“Cheeky,” I laughed.
He grinned. “I felt like I wasn’t getting the complete life model experience.”
“Honestly, this is great if you’re comfortable.”
The light and shadows framed the contours of his shoulders, back and butt perfectly.
“I think one more pose from the front,” I said when I was finished. “Is that okay?”
“Absolutely,” he said, turning around. He was well and truly blessed in all departments, it seemed. I got a bit flustered.
“You decide on a pose,” I said. “I’ll work with whatever feels right for you.”
He put one hand on his chest and the other over his head. I started to draw the outline of his body. Every time I caught his eyes, they were focused intensely on me. I found myself getting lost in them. They were so mysterious and alluring.
“What do you see?” he asked.
“Huh?” I said, snapping out of a daze.
“Tell me what you see.”
I was confused. “I see… an attractive man.”
“What else?”
“Who is well hung. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Do you see a savior?”
“What?”
His eyes were fixed on mine, unflinching. “Do you see a savior?”
I laughed uncomfortably. “I think we can call it a day, Narcissus.”
“Look at me,” he commanded. I felt compelled to do so. His hands were no longer on his body. His arms were outstretched to the side, palms up, as if he was summoning something. His blue-green eyes swirled like an ocean, both beautiful and frightening. I couldn’t look away.
“I don’t feel so good,” I said.
“Look closer,” he smiled. There was something else. Something dangerous.
“Please, Alex,” I said, my heart racing. “I want you to go now.”
“You see me,” he said. In a flash, his eyes were black, and his teeth were jagged. His skin was deathly pale, rivers of deep blue veins visible beneath. My heart was banging like a drum in my ears, but there was also the distant sound of screams. My head began to spin.
“Alex…”
“I am your savior,” he yelled, demonic. My legs gave way, and I collapsed. When I focused, Alex was no longer standing in front of me. He was fully clothed crouched on the floor, rummaging through sheets of paper. There were drawings scattered everywhere. The candles were almost stubs as if they’d been burning for hours.
“W… what was that?” I said, breathing heavily.
He held up a sheet of paper, admiring it. “You have definitely found your calling. This is brilliant work.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, looking at some of the drawings around me. They depicted ugly things. People hanging from their ankles bleeding out over troughs. Humanoids tearing the skin from children. Mountains of bones lining the streets under a dark sky. I pushed them away from me. “I didn’t draw these!”
“But you did, Isaac,” he said, approaching me with the drawing. “You should be proud of them all, but this one is very special.”
It depicted a man and woman standing before a worshiping crowd. The man was him, and I recognized the woman instantly.
“Selina.”
“My queen,” he smiled. He flipped the drawing to reveal a dark smear on the back, resembling a crude handprint. “This is her mark.”
“Oh my god,” is all I could say as I had a flashback to her bleeding hand.
“I need your mark too, Isaac,” he said, grabbing my wrist. I went into panic mode as I tried to pull away, but he was strong. The thumbnail of his other hand grew into a point. He pushed it into my palm and made a deep incision, making me scream in pain. Then he pressed my hand onto the back of the drawing.
“So it shall be,” he said, pulling my hand to his mouth. I squirmed as I felt his tongue penetrate the wound. When he let me go, I recoiled, my whole body trembling.
“You can keep the 40 bucks,” he smiled with bloody teeth, rolling up the drawing. “We'll call this payment.”
Alex walked to the window and pushed it open, looking over his shoulder.
“At the end of days, you will be spared.”
He put on his shades and leapt. When I eventually braved looking out of the window, there was no sign of him.
I can’t explain it, but I counted 23 drawings that I have no recollection of. All of them depicted scenes of torture and devastation.
Recently, a family of four from my neighborhood were found dead in their home. Details weren't released to the public, but I have a friend in local law enforcement who said it was the most disturbing thing our town had experienced. The parents had been drained of blood, and the children had some skin removed.
They also mentioned that a charcoal drawing was found at the scene, depicting the family's gruesome end.
I had such a drawing. I couldn’t find it.
The original 23 drawings, which I shoved into the closet, had dropped to 19. I took them to the beach late one night, doused them in lighter fluid, and burned them on the stones. I hoped that whatever they prophesied would be voided.
When I got home, the drawings were stacked neatly on my coffee table with a note.
Nice try, but what's done is done. Don't make me go back on my word. A
I have no idea how widespread it will be, but it's coming. If you are personally affected by this, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

Until I attended a drawing workshop at Disneyland, I always considered drawing to be a childish thing. I know there’s some irony there, but Disney does bring out the kid in us all.
We were walking off lunch when we passed the sign:
Learn to draw Donald Duck with a real Disney animator!
It made sense to let our stomachs settle before riding Big Thunder Mountain. It was also around 86 F, so an air-conditioned studio was quite appealing.
Turns out I love to draw! When we got home, l invested in some materials and started drawing things around the apartment. As I improved, it evolved into landscapes.
Drawing became my biggest passion, though something I hadn’t attempted was the human body. I asked some friends if they would pose, but they were too shy. So I looked online for life drawing classes, but the nearest I could find was some 3 hour drive away.
After talking about it with a friend, she had an idea.
“How much is that class, Isaac?”
“$50 an hour.”
“So why don't you advertise for a model for like $40 an hour? I think that’s reasonable.”
It was something I hadn’t considered. “I’d also have complete control over poses. You’re a genius!”
“That’s if anyone is interested,” she said. “How many people do you think are willing to come to a stranger’s apartment to be drawn?”
A lot, it turns out. I put an ad on Craigslist seeking a life model. I had over 30 responses! After filtering the trolls and creeps, I arranged to meet Selina, a 35 year old experienced life model, in a local bar. She was happy to pose for me.
She came to my apartment the following week. I attached a large white sheet to a wall in my living room as a makeshift backdrop.
“You’re probably used to a more professional studio setup,” I said.
“Not at all,” she said. “It does exactly what it says on the tin.”
As she started to undress, I didn’t know where to look. It was quite a surreal moment in more ways than one.
“Are you okay, Isaac?” she asked.
“I’ll be honest,” I said. “This is the first time I’ve seen a naked woman in person.”
She chuckled. “Say no more. Would you like me to take the lead?”
“I would appreciate it, thanks.”
She held various poses while I sketched her with charcoal. By the end of the hour, it didn’t feel strange at all. Ever the professional, she put me at ease.
Selina came by once a week for the couple of months that followed. She was very encouraging and complimented my work. In that time, I invested in a proper backdrop, having enjoyed the experience and intending on continuing for as long as my passion for drawing remained.
One week, she dropped some bad news.
“This will be the last time I can visit,” she said. “I’m moving away, kind of a last-minute thing.”
“Oh no,” I said. “Is it a positive move? Is everything okay?”
“Yes, it’s definitely for a good reason.”
“Well, I’m happy for you. I’ll miss this, though.”
“Me too,” she said. “But you’ll find someone else.”
I nodded. “You’ll always be my first time.”
She laughed. “If you’re interested, I have someone in mind. Can I give him your number?”
“If you recommend him, then sure!”
“He's also very easy on the eyes,” she winked. As much as I’d miss Selina, I liked the idea of having a different body type to draw.
I used the bathroom as she got dressed after our session. When I returned, she was holding a tissue to her hand. I could see blood.
“What happened?” I asked.
“My darn pocket mirror shattered in my bag,” she grimaced.
“Ouch, you poor thing! I’ll grab a towel.”
“No need,” she said. “It’s only a scratch, really.”
Fortunately, I had some bandages in my drawer of random stuff.
“Bit more than a scratch,” I said as I helped her clean it. There was a deep wound on her palm. “I think you should go to the ER.”
“You’re sweet, Isaac, but a little dramatic.”
We hugged goodbye. It felt strange that it was potentially the last time I’d see her and wished it hadn’t ended that way.
A week or so later, I had a text message from an unknown number. He introduced himself as Alex and said he was interested in modelling. We arranged to meet in a bar one evening. I only had a physical description to go on, but he stuck out from the crowd. He was the only one wearing shades. His hair was just long enough to tuck behind his ears, and so lustrous he could do shampoo commercials! I put him at around 30.
“Alex? I’m Isaac.” I shook his hand. “What are you drinking?”
“I’m not much of a drinker, to be honest,” he said.
“Soda, juice?”
He shook his head. “Nothing for me, thanks.”
“Fair enough, man,” I said, getting a Corona for myself. Then we went and sat in a booth. “So, you know Selina from life modelling?”
“No,” he said. “We work together occasionally.”
“Ah, but not modelling?”
He shook his head. “I’ve never done it before.”
“Oh, I assumed that’s why Selina set this up.”
“I mentioned it was something I’d be interested in myself. You gotta try new things in life, right? Otherwise it’s dull.”
“I agree,” I said. “Though I hasten to add, I'm not promising excitement. You’ll just be required to pose for around 15 minutes. Then change position, rinse, and repeat for an hour or so.”
“And you just draw me?” he asked.
“Exactly!”
“Naked?”
“Not if you’re uncomfortable with that, but ideally wearing as little as possible. Saying that out loud sounds weird. I’m not a creep. The whole point is that I want to experience drawing the human body and all its intricacies.”
“I have no problem being naked,” he said. “I’m not embarrassed of my body.”
I could tell he had a great physique, but there was one thing that could be a deal breaker.
“Weird question, but can I see your eyes?”
The eyes are the window to the soul. His shades hid that all-important feature.
“Sure,” he said, leaning over the table and lifting his shades. They were at first an intense black, though his pupils constricted to reveal shimmering blue-green irises. I was mesmerized.
“Any good?” he asked, lowering the shades and interrupting an extended silence.
I cleared my throat. “Y-yeah, yes, absolutely.”
I felt my face heat up, then I joined him as he let out a laugh. “When do you want me?”
A few nights later, Alex stood at my apartment door. He was still wearing the shades. A little pretentious, perhaps, but he looked good.
“Nice place,” he said, looking around.
“It’s not much, but it’s home. Great view, though!” I was on the fifth floor overlooking a park. I got lucky, as the other side of the building overlooks a parking garage.
Alex approached my A3 drawing pad, which was perched on an easel. The last drawing of Selina was on the front page. She was turned to the side, looking over her shoulder with an intense expression, long hair cascading down to her buttocks, an arm covering her breasts.
“Isaac, this is incredible! She looks like a goddess.”
“Thank you,” I said proudly. “She really inspired me.”
“I can tell. It looks just like her. I can’t wait to see what you do with me!” With that, he started removing his clothes. I was glad that I didn’t have to awkwardly mention that he needed to strip off.
“So, are the shades your signature?” I asked, preparing a fresh page.
“You mean are you always this much of a douche?” he teased.
“Not at all,” I laughed. “They suit you.”
“Thanks. It’s actually due to light sensitivity. It can get a bit uncomfortable under bright lights.”
“I can dim them,” I said. “Maybe light a few candles instead.”
“It’s fine. I can deal with it for an hour or so.”
“I’m gonna do that anyway,” I said. “Candlelight illuminates the body in a completely different way. I’m intrigued about that perspective.”
I dimmed the lights and lit some candles around the room. Alex removed his shades and stood in a pair of white CK briefs. His body was like an Italian sculpture. Even with mood lighting, his sparkling eyes popped. Attractive is an understatement.
“On or off?” he asked, his thumbs hooked into the waistband.
“Leave them on for now,” I said, placing a chair in front of the backdrop. “Just sit and relax. Try a few different positions until you feel comfortable.”
He stretched a bit, then propped one arm up on the back of the chair, resting the other on his thigh. “How’s this?”
“Do you think you can hold that pose for the next 15 minutes?”
“Sure,” he said.
“Then it’s perfect to start. Look in my direction but not directly at me. Focus on something over my shoulder.”
I began to draw with charcoal. Having only experienced drawing Selina at that point, chest hair was a new challenge, too. Alex remained completely still. He didn’t shift or indicate that he was uncomfortable at all.
“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” I asked.
“Pretty sure,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
“I guess you just look so natural. I admire your confidence.”
“You’re not confident?” he asked.
“Not take my clothes off and pose for a complete stranger, confident,” I laughed. “I doubt Michelangelo would have been inspired by this.”
“You look fine from over here,” he smiled, turning his head slightly.
I felt myself blush and chuckled. “Hey, don't move.”
“Sorry, very unprofessional,” he said, returning to his previous position.
When I was happy with what I had, I asked him to pose standing, but this time from behind.
“How’s this?” he asked. When I turned back, he was holding a pose, though he’d removed his briefs.
“Cheeky,” I laughed.
He grinned. “I felt like I wasn’t getting the complete life model experience.”
“Honestly, this is great if you’re comfortable.”
The light and shadows framed the contours of his shoulders, back and butt perfectly.
“I think one more pose from the front,” I said when I was finished. “Is that okay?”
“Absolutely,” he said, turning around. He was well and truly blessed in all departments, it seemed. I got a bit flustered.
“You decide on a pose,” I said. “I’ll work with whatever feels right for you.”
He put one hand on his chest and the other over his head. I started to draw the outline of his body. Every time I caught his eyes, they were focused intensely on me. I found myself getting lost in them. They were so mysterious and alluring.
“What do you see?” he asked.
“Huh?” I said, snapping out of a daze.
“Tell me what you see.”
I was confused. “I see… an attractive man.”
“What else?”
“Who is well hung. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Do you see a savior?”
“What?”
His eyes were fixed on mine, unflinching. “Do you see a savior?”
I laughed uncomfortably. “I think we can call it a day, Narcissus.”
“Look at me,” he commanded. His hands were no longer on his body. His arms were outstretched, palms up, as if he was summoning something. His blue-green eyes swirled like an ocean, both beautiful and frightening. I couldn’t look away.
“I don’t feel so good,” I said.
“Look closer,” he smiled. There was something else. Something dangerous.
“Please, Alex,” I said, my head spinning. “I want you to go now.”
“You see me,” he said. In a flash, his eyes were black, and his teeth were jagged. His skin was deathly pale, rivers of deep blue veins visible beneath. My heart thudded in my ears, but there was also the sound of distant screams.
“Alex…”
“I am your savior!” he yelled, demonic. I collapsed, blacking out momentarily. When I focused, he was no longer standing in front of me. He was fully clothed crouched on the floor, rummaging through sheets of paper. There were drawings scattered everywhere. The candles were almost stubs as if they’d been burning for hours.
“W… what was that?” I said, breathing heavily.
He held up a sheet of paper, admiring it. “You have definitely found your calling. This is brilliant work.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, looking at some of the drawings around me. They depicted ugly things. People hanging from their ankles bleeding out over troughs. Humanoids tearing the skin from children. Mountains of bones lining the streets under a dark sky. I pushed them away from me. “I didn’t draw these!”
“But you did, Isaac,” he said, approaching me with the drawing. “You should be proud of them all, but this one is very special.”
It depicted a man and woman standing before a worshiping crowd. The man was him, and I recognized the woman instantly.
“Selina.”
“My queen,” he smiled. He flipped the drawing to reveal a dark smear on the back, resembling a crude handprint. “This is her mark.”
“Oh my god,” is all I could say as I had a flashback to her bleeding hand.
“I need your mark too, Isaac,” he said, grabbing my wrist. I went into panic mode as I tried to pull away, but he was strong. The thumbnail of his other hand grew into a point. He pushed it into my palm and made a deep incision, making me scream in pain. Then he pressed my hand onto the back of the drawing.
“So it shall be,” he said, pulling my hand to his mouth. I squirmed as I felt his tongue penetrate the wound. When he let me go, I recoiled, my whole body trembling.
“You can keep the 40 bucks,” he smiled with bloody teeth, rolling up the drawing. “We'll call this payment.”
Alex walked to the window and pushed it open, looking over his shoulder.
“At the end of days, you will be spared.”
He put on his shades and leapt. When I eventually braved looking out of the window, there was no sign of him.
I can’t explain it, but I counted 23 drawings that I have no recollection of. All of them depicted scenes of torture and devastation.
Recently, a family of four from my neighborhood were found dead in their home. Details weren't released to the public, but I have a friend in local law enforcement who said it was the most disturbing thing our town had experienced. The parents had been drained of blood, and the children had some skin removed.
They also mentioned that a charcoal drawing was found at the scene, depicting the family's gruesome end.
I had such a drawing. I couldn’t find it.
The original 23 drawings, which I shoved into the closet, had dropped to 19. I took them to the beach late one night, doused them in lighter fluid, and burned them on the stones. I hoped that whatever they prophesied would be voided.
When I got home, the drawings were stacked neatly on my coffee table with a note.
Nice try, but what's done is done. Don't make me go back on my word. A.
I have no idea how widespread it will be, but it's coming. If you are personally affected by this, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.