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Fiction » Thriller » Reflection font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: Hana Rui
Fiction Rated: T - English - General - Reviews: 4 - Published: 01-26-06 - Updated: 01-26-06 - id:2098829

Summary: The creature has been staring back at him for who knows how long. It is just about time he does something about it.


Title: Reflection

Author: Hana Rui


He thought he saw fear in those eyes, and for a while was almost afraid he would fall prey for it. But he did not. Dare not. Never. A creature such as the one standing right in front of him did not deserve any bit of the sympathy it seemed to be silently beseeching for. The sympathy he could choose or choose not to give.

The sympathy he could but would not will himself to feel.

Not for this creature.

No, not in a million years.

Kill it.

The order had come abruptly, seeping into his head like a wayward breath of air that had just escaped from the bowels of hell. It was eager, demanding. As though too desperate to commission his help in getting one of its minions back. The escaped essence of doom that had somehow gotten into the parameters of his reality.

Hell’s prodigal son.

Kill it.

Merely looking at the creature was enough to send his nerves in such chaotic frenzy that they could almost burst. His heart was drumming up on his chest so hard, he could almost think it was trying to knock its way out and scamper away. Away from this creature...

Even though the damn thing had not done as much as look back at him with those dull, lifeless eyes, its face too rotten and too deprived of skin to ever generate any distinct emotion. He could almost swear it smelled awful too. The putrid, miasmic odor of decaying flesh wafted to his nose, strongly ascertaining the reality of the whole deal.

He wasn’t just merely dreaming.

His perception was insisting things could never get any more real than this.

Kill...

His hand was now moving of its own accord. As though some other unseen force had it tied with invisible strings down to the minutest cells, giving whoever it was at the other end complete access to his every movement. He felt like an overgrown puppet, virtually lifeless. Aware but unable to move according to his own will. Trusting his salvation, his life, his everything to the void that was now his god.

Kill...

He could hardly contain the revulsion he felt for what he was seeing. His poor eyes had been subjected to such an ugly sight for so long, he could almost feel them struggling to tear out from their sockets and liberate themselves from such atrocity. He could no longer bear having to look at that thing, whatever the hell it was.

It just had to go.

And it had to go, now.

Kill...

He struck out his fist with such brutal force that deftly turned the glass into a dozen crystalline shards, letting him see more such creatures staring back at him from the other side, begging for salvation before the splinters made their descend down to the floor where they were to break into a dozen shards more.

It did not end with that, of course. There was still the urge to step on those things, stomp on them over and over until the shards were turned to dust. And he acted on that, too, with such reckless abandon that he almost resembled a man suffering from recurrence of a previously alleviated mental aberration.

He was.

There was now blood oozing out from his knuckle and two bare feet, fragments of the broken abomination sparkling proudly from the various cuts he had vested upon himself. They hurt. Hurt a lot. But at least, the despicable image was gone. And he wouldn’t have to see it for a long time.

It was finally back in hell where it rightfully belonged.

He smiled despite the burning pain. Ah, yes. Victory was priceless.

end



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