My Short Story: MirrorMirror
My Short Story: MirrorMirror
MIRRORMIRROR
Andrew stepped off the bus into the howling wind, swinging his bag over his
shoulder as he watched the bus turn around the corner, disappearing from
sight. Lighting a cigarette he took a deep drag, exhaling it slowly while
staring up at the full moon as it slid behind a dark storm cloud. He
shivered, took another drag of his cigarette, tossed it onto the ground,
putting it out with his foot. Digging his hands into his pockets he drew
his jacket around him in an effort to keep warmer, then crossed the road to
the dirt track that would lead home.
Every night of the week Andrew would commence this same journey home after
working through to midnight. It was a fifteen minute walk home from the bus
stop, and every night his imagination would play tricks on his mind.
Tonight was no different. He hated the late shift.
Head down, he trudged along, deep in thought, trying to keep his mind
occupied with thoughts on work or anything besides his current surroundings.
Then it started, the feeling of being followed. He tried to ignore it, but
it only got stronger, impressing it upon the edge of his mind, eating away
at his efforts to keep it at bay until it exploded into his mind with such
force that he spun around, searching the foreboding darkness, he could feel
the night closing in on him, trying to crush him.
His eyes darted about, searching, probing the dark night trying to see
whatever it was he could feel. His heart pounded explosively in his ears,
he started to feel a little foolish. Realising he was holding his breath,
slowly he exhaled, then drew in a deep shaky breath, the cold air burning
his lungs. He reached inside his jacket for another smoke, then thought
better of it. Turning around he continued his journey home. He tried
whistling, then stopped for it sounded eerie in the darkness that surrounded
him.
He deliberately turned his thoughts inwards, attempting once again to block
out his surroundings, he thought of Lyn, who was waiting for him in their
bed, he started to quicken his pace, eager to lie down by her side, to feel
her warm body against his, to feel her heart beating steadily in her chest.
He would feel safe when he was home.
His thoughts were disrupted by footsteps, he could hear footsteps behind
him, just out of time with his. Quickening his pace even more, not daring
to look behind him scared of what he might see, or what he might not see,
the footsteps quickened with him, still just out of time with his. He could
imagine the figure looming up behind him, reaching out for him, its big
claws grabbing his shoulders and ripping his head off. Finally he could not
take it any more. He turned around, walking backwards, knowing what he
would see, nothing. He stopped, listening for the footsteps. They had
stopped if they had ever been there at all. Standing there for a while he
listened, waiting for the other to make the first move. Then finally,
“Who’s there?” he asked. Good one he thought, Who’s going to answer, and as
if I really want them to. No-one answered besides the howling wind.
Cautiously he turned around and started to walk home again realising he was
half way there. He considered running but realised he was being
melodramatic. Drawing his coat tighter about him he quickened his pace once
more, his eyes darting from side to side of the track, searching the trees,
paranoia setting in.
Then suddenly the wind died. He stopped walking, glancing frantically
about. Not even a slight breeze rustled the leaves of the trees. He
listened, realising that something was wrong, dead wrong. Then he noticed
that he could not hear anything, not a single night noise came forth. He
knew he was not deaf because he had heard them only seconds before, besides
he could still hear his heavy breathing. Starting to panic, his imagination
running wild, he backed away from the edge of the track, turning around to
see if anyone was behind him. There was no-one, only a large bush.
He stared into the bush half expecting it to come alive, leap out and grab
him. He forced himself to calm down then nervously took a step forward,
stopped, then decided against checking behind it and headed of home again.
He had only gone a few feet when he heard a rustling behind him. Jerking
around he stared at the bush he had just been looking at. It was shaking
violently, then a shadow darted out across the track and into the bush on
the other side. He stood there dumbstruck, mouth wide open in horror as he
tried to comprehend what he had seen. All this time he thought it was just
his imagination. Then the bush beside him started to shake violently,
breaking his paralysis. He ran, glancing back to see a shadowy figure
standing in the middle of the track, he could feel its red eyes on him
trying to bore through his, into his mind, could feel the hatred emitting
from those eyes. He snapped his head back around and ran as fast as he
could. He could clearly hear the footsteps behind him again now, although
it sounded like more than just one set. He knew that if he could make it
home he would be safe. If only he could make it.
The footsteps seemed to be getting closer, faster. Andrew could hear
something else now along with the footsteps, it was a low growling, similad clearly hear the footsteps behind him again now, although
it sounded like more than just one set. He knew that if he could make it
home he would be safe. If only he could make it.
The footsteps seemed to be getting closer, faster. Andrew could hear
something else now along with the footsteps, it was a low growling, similar
to that made by a dog. It was growing louder, more frantic. He knew that
it was gaining on him. He demanded extra speed, speed he never knew he had,
his lungs were burning, crying out for oxygen as his legs furiously pounded
the ground. He could still here the footsteps behind him, the low guttural
growl growing louder and louder. He tossed his bag behind hoping to slow it
down, not daring to look to see if it had.
Then he could see it, home. Frantically he groped his jacket for his keys
as he darted up the path towards his house. He was breathing with
difficulty now, but he pushed on, noticing that his bag must have slowed it
down for he could not hear it behind him anymore.
He slowed down, glancing down the path behind him. There was nothing there.
Coming to a stop, muscles tense, ready to start running for his life again.
He stood there, staring down the path, half expecting it to come racing up
towards him. His breathing had slowed down to an almost normal pace, and he
was just beginning to think he had imagined it all along when a figure
appeared at the bottom of the path. He held his breath and stared at it.
It was vaguely man shaped with broad shoulders but with long, oversized
strong arms, its head looked like that of a wolf. It was holding his bag,
sniffing it, then turning, it looked directly at Andrew, tossing the bag
aside and launched itself up the path. Andrew stood for a second taking the
monstrosity in as it bore down upon him moving faster than he had thought
possible of anything.
Standing there, he heard the growl as it came closer. That was all he
needed. Turning, he fled up the path reaching the front door of his house
in seconds. He fumbled with the lock then darted inside. Locking the door,
he leaned against it and slid down to the floor, listening for the beast
outside.
After a few minutes he began to think it must have left. He started to get
up when he heard it, it was growling softly just beyond the door he was
leaning against. He froze, fear pulsing through every part of his body.
Unable to move, he prayed it would go away. Then the growling stopped and
was replaced by another noise. It took a while before he realised it was
sniffing, smelling him out. Andrew knew that if it was anything like a dog
it would be able to smell his fear a mile away.
Sitting there he waited, holding his breath not daring to move a muscle.
Then he heard the footsteps moving away from the door.
What if it’s a trick? he thought. He decided to stay where he was until
daylight. Knowing he would not be able to sleep anyway. Then he thought of
Lyn.
Slowly crawling along the ground, listening for any sound coming from
outside, he made his way to the bedroom. He reached up for the light, then
froze before he turned it on.
It’ll be able to see me if I turn it on. he thought
Leaving the light off he crawled over to the bed, reaching over to feel for
Lyn’s warm body. It was not there.
Panicking he searched the entire bed, unable to comprehend why it was empty,
and cold, it was if she had not been there all night. He stood up and
walked out of the bedroom frantically searching the whole house for her,
not daring to call out in case he alerted the beast outside. He could not
find her anywhere. Collapsing at the front door he stared into the darkness
of the house, wondering where she could be, what had happened to her. He
could not think of any reason why she would not be there, she was always
there when he got home from work. He brought his knees up to his chin and
wrapped his arms around his legs, rocking back and forward. He could feel
himself falling asleep, shaking his head he tried to fight it, then finally
gave up, falling into a restless sleep.
He woke with a start. Glancing around in a panic trying to remember what he
was doing at the front door, looking at his watch he saw that it was 7 in
the morning. Standing up he started to walk through to the bedroom. Then it
came to him.
“Lyn!” he cried out running to the bedroom. The room was empty just as he
had found it last night.
“Lyn!” he screamed running through to the kitchen.
There was no answer. He ran outside checking to see if her car was there.
It was.
Franticly he ran around the house, hoping against hope that he would find
her.
He stopped dead in the back yard when he noticed it was quiet, too quiet.
Why are no birds singing? he asked himself, where are the bloody birds?
Dismissing it, he ran inside through the back door, picked up the phone and
dialled for the police before he realised that the phone was dead.
Staring at the phone, unable to comprehend what was happening, he let it
drop to the floor.
Standing there, he stared at the phone swinging on its cord as if expecting
it to say something. His gaze wandered to the bench where he saw Lyn’s car
keys. He stared at them for a while before thinking that he should drive to
the police station.
Picking up the keys he walked out to the car and tried to start it. Nothing.
Not even the starter motor trying to turn over. He tried again, still
nothing. In frustration he hit the horn. No sound came from it. He sat
there staring at it, hitting it again and again, as if hitting it was going
to force it to work. Finally giving up in frustration he stepped out of the
car, leaving the keys in the ignition and walked up the driveway, deciding
to go to his neighbour's house, hoping they knew what was going on.
As he walked up he got the feeling something was wrong. He stopped in the
driveway and looked around him. It was still dead quiet. There was
something else though.
He stood there staring at the trees and bush around him, not quite grasping
what was missing. Frowning he continued slowly up the driveway, when it
occurred to him what it was. Colour. The colour in the trees and sky were
very dull and lifeless. It was like looking at the world and being
partially colour blind, you could see the colours but they had a tinge of
grey about them. He stood there staring at the leaves on the trees, green,
but not as green as they should be. Shaking his head in disbelief he
continued up the driveway, worried that maybe he was going colour blind as
well as deaf.
“Don’t be stupid Andrew! Do you think you could hear your own voice if you
were deaf?” Instead of reassuring himself the sound of his own voice scared
him, eerie in the silence that surrounded him.
He quickened his pace. Reaching his neighbour's driveway he saw that their
car was sitting in the driveway. He prayed they were home. Walking up to
the front door he pressed the door bell. No sound came from it. He knocked
on the door, hearing the knocking echo throughout the house and area
surrounding him. He tried the handle, it turned, pushing the door all the
way open he peered inside.
“Hello, anybody home?” He grimaced at the sound of his own voice.
Stepping inside, he walked through the loungeroom into the dining room. He
looked around, noting that it looked as if they had all just cleaned the
place spotlessly and gone on a long holiday. He recalled that’s how his
house looked as well.
“Hello, is any arsehole here?” He screamed, expecting no answer, just
getting sick of the silence that pressed in on him.
He wandered throughout the house until he found the bathroom so he could
use the toilet. “They won’t know anyway.” He had started to talk his
thoughts aloud, as he could not bear the silence any longer.
He walked over to the sink and washed his hands, looking up he looked into
the mirror and saw his next door neighbour staring back at him.
Crying out, he spun around, and saw no-one.
“You’re losing it Andrew.”
He slowly turned around finding his neighbour looking back at him. She
stood there brushing her hair in front of the mirror. He stood there for a
few minutes staring at her in amazement, wondering how she got over there,
how he could see her but she obviously could not see him. The door opened
inside the mirror and her husband walked in and asked her to hurry up.
She said just a minute and he walked out. Andrew stared at her, and
wondered if she would be able to hear him. He stood there staring at her,
unable to say anything. Then she got up, walking to the bathroom door.
“Hey!” he yelled at the mirror.
She continued to walk to the door. As if she had not heard a thing, which
was probably the case.
“Hey, Sarah. It’s me Andrew. Sarah!” He screamed at the top of his lungs,
bashing on the mirror.
She stopped at the door, glanced back at the mirror, shook her head and
walked out.
“Sarah! No!” He bashed his hands on the mirror, then lent his head against
the mirror in despair.
Maybe, maybe Lyn’s home. Maybe she’ll be able to hear me. Then.... then
what Andrew? He stopped in his tracks. What will I do when she does hear
me? I’ll think of that later.
He raced out of his neighbour's house towards his house. It was getting
late. He knew he did not have much time left before the beast came after
him again.
He got to his house, ran into the lounge room and looked into the mirror on
the wall unit. Nothing.
“Bathroom!” he cried. He raced through to the bathroom, slipped over,
bashing his head on the bath tub.
“You idiot Andrew, what are you trying? Kill yourself?”
He reached up to the sink and hauled himself up, standing up he gripped his
head, trying to clear his eyes, and stop the splitting pain. Slowly the
pain subsided. He looked at his hands, blood.
“Shit.” He cursed looking up to the mirror to evaluate the damage.
Lyn was there getting undressed to have a shower.
“Lyn!” he screamed, “Lyn. It’s me Andrew. I’m in the mirror. Lyn!”
“Man that sounds stupid. I’m in the mirror. Why me? Why is this crap
happening to me? Lyn! Can you hear me? Please hear me!” He bashed the
mirror desperately.
Then he heard it. It was slightly muffled but he heard it.
“Andrew?”
“She heard me! Lyn, over here.” He felt like crying.
Then it happened.
“Yes honey?” The door opened and in walked Andrew. Only it was not Andrew.
“No. Lyn, run, it’s a monster. It’s going to kill you. Run Lyn!”
“Can you get my shampoo for me?”
“Sure.” the Andrew/beast replied.
The beast walked over to the mirror staring directly at Andrew. Andrew
took a step back.
“She can’t see you, you know,” came the muffled voice. “Or hear you. Some
of you humans might be able to hear a little something, but most of you
choose to ignore it. She can’t see me for what I really am either. Don’t
worry, I am not going to kill her. Your life is mine now. And there is
nothing you can do about it.”
With that he walked up to the shower and stepped into it. Andrew stared in
horror as the clawed hand ran up Lyn’s body.
“Lyn. No. You bastard!” Andrew struck out at the mirror as hard as he
could smashing through it into the medicine cabinet behind it, cutting his
hand. Blood started flowing freely from the cuts. Taking off his shirt he
wrapped it around his hand to stem the bleeding, and walked out of the
bathroom through to the kitchen. Suddenly very hungry, he opened the fridge.
Empty.
“Great! So I’m going to starve to death while some beast takes over my
life. This is unbelievable crap.”
Andrew knew he was not going to starve to death. The beast from last night
was going to come for him.
He stared outside as the sun began to sink behind the horizon.
“How many are there?” he asked himself. “There couldn’t be that many, could
there? I wonder what they want?”
He shrugged his shoulders walked over and sat in the couch. As he watched
the sun sink completely below the horizon he fell asleep, his mind worn out
from all that had happened during that day.
Andrew awoke with a fright.
“Shit!” He swore under his breath.
It was dark. Something was wrong. He could feel it. He slowly got of the
couch, crawled over to the kitchen. Peering into the darkness he opened
the draw feeling for a knife. He found one.
“Thank God for that.”
Quietly he crept out of the kitchen. It was pitiful defence but it made him
feel safer. He froze when he heard a growl coming from the bedroom down the
hall. He reached for the light, thought about it for a second then decided
he would have a better chance if he could see what he was confronting. He
flicked the switch. Nothing but an audible click.
A triumphant growl came from the bedroom. Footsteps pounded up the hallway.
Andrew froze where he was, unable to react. The moon slid from behind the
clouds illuminating the loungeroom.
The beast entered the room, stopped in its tracks and just stared at him.
Then it launched itself at him, claws reaching for him. Andrew took a step
back swinging at the beast as it landed on him. He felt the knife bite
deep into its neck, heard the satisfying howl of pain as he pulled it down
in an arc slicing through the beast neck.
Then he felt the claws wrap around his chest, squeezing him. He lost his
grip on the knife, in an effort to pry the claws of him but was powerless
to even budge them. He felt the foul smelling breath upon him. He looked
up into the beast eyes as its teeth reached for his neck.
He was about to pass out from the claws squeezing his chest when he felt
the beast’s teeth rip his throat out. His body convulsed violently, and he
died.
A howl erupted from the house in the empty world.
The beast ate.
(C) Copyright 1995
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Email: armstj@training.wa.gov.au
