Authors: C.S. Burkhart
Tags: #horror stories, #horror novels, #thriller novels, #horror books, #thriller books, #psychological book, #psychological horror books, #psychological horror story, #psychological story
I jolted awake, shivering. Although the sun shone in
through the windows, it felt like I was in a snow storm. I sat up
and walked down the hallway to get to the thermostat and saw that
it read 75 degrees.
I pushed the
“
Up
”
button
rapidly, but it wouldn
’
t
go past 75 degrees. The heater wouldn
’
t
kick on even though I cranked it up. I pressed harder on the
“
Up
”
button but it
stayed at 75. Frustrated, I started tapping the
thermostat.
Tap tap.
Pause.
There it was. A couple of taps will get anything to
work. It was only 9:17 A.M. I still had another five hours to go. I
was still hungry so I figured I would go and get some breakfast and
maybe do some grocery shopping at the Wonder Mart. That ought to
kill some time. I went back to my room to find my keys. I had
started keeping lanyards on them so I could find them easier. I
have a bad habit of just dropping them in various places around the
house. Coupled with my forgetfulness as of late, made for a very
irksome experience when I was in a hurry.
I stepped past the doorway and my
head started spinning. I had to catch my balance on the wall. The
room swirled, sending the forest green blankets on my bed into a
vortex of navy blue from my walls. The red
“
Standby
”
light from the
television added a nice contrast of cool and warm colors. I had the
house painted with cooler colors, apparently it's good for anxiety
and relaxation which I desperately needed. I shut my eyes tight and
waited. It would pass. There was still a chill in the room even
though the heater was on.
Timidly, I unclenched my eyes. Everything was still.
It wasn't the first time something like that had happened. It was
becoming more and more frequent lately. I figured it must be
because of the lack of sleep. I've noticed a steady decline in my
weight and I'm not a heavy set person by any means. I stand about
five-foot ten, maybe five eleven if I'm not slouching, and the most
I've ever weighed my whole life was maybe one fifty. I think I'm
down to one twenty-five now.
Miracle diet. Just don't sleep for months and shed
all that unwanted fat. I bet I could publish a no-sleep diet and
make a nice chunk of money. I walked slowly to the bathroom sink.
The chilly water was invigorating as I splashed it on my face. I
looked into the mirror, barely recognizing myself. Dark bags framed
my once bright icy-blue eyes. They were much duller now. My
reflection sapped my own energy from me as I looked into the Mirror
Me's eyes. Stubble covered my sunken in cheeks, cheek bones that
were already very pronounced, now seemed to jut out like ledges
under my eyes. What a mess.
I opened my eyes, the room was dark and I could
barely see anything. I put my legs over the edge of the bed,
planted my feet on the ground and stood. With my arms outstretched
in front of me, I felt my way to the bathroom door and missed. The
door was open and I never left my door open. I barely caught myself
on the counter and avoided a face plant. The light switch, where
was it? My arm searched along the wall until I felt the smooth
plastic from the wall plate and I flicked the switch on.
Click.
The light was blinding. I squinted to shut it out
and when my eyes finally adjusted, my retinas were stained. Colored
spots danced all over the walls. I caught a glimpse of myself in
the mirror and noticed something was... Off. I brushed the hair
away from my eyes and peered into the mirror, not quite sure about
what wasn't right.
My right eye. My right eye was brown. A deep brown.
Not my normal blue.
“
What the hell
…”
I stepped closer to the mirror to get a better look.
I rubbed my eyes, maybe I still had sleep gunk in them and it was
blurring my vision. Or maybe my retinas were still stained?
Nope. The spots had disappeared and I could see just
fine. I inched even closer to the mirror and held my eye open,
staring slack jawed with disbelief.
Clink
.
What was that? The noise made me
jump. Drops of blood began falling into the sink and I tasted
copper. I grabbed my mouth and saw my front incisor tooth caught
between the opening of the drain. Without thinking, my shaking hand
reached for the tooth and pinched it between my thumb and index
finger. I didn
’
t want to see it, but my
elbow bent, pulling the tooth to my face, daring me to examine it.
My
tooth
. Root
and all, with chunks of meat still clinging on, traces of plaque
flecked over the enamel. I looked back to the mirror, opening my
mouth to look at the vacant space my tooth once occupied.
B
lood ooz
ed lazily from the socket, mixing with saliva, spreading the
metallic taste over more tastebuds. Disgusted, I spat the blood
into the sink. As the blood was leaving my mouth, I could feel a
solid, smooth, stone-like object pass through my lips.
Another tooth, a molar this time.
Panicked, I let out a scream and looked around for
something, anything to help me. Unfortunately, I caught a glimpse
of my reflection and noticed that my left eye had changed colors to
match the right eye's chocolate brown.
Pressure was building in my sinuses and I watched my
long, thin nose transform, curving and hooking down and bulging
outwards. I grabbed desperately trying and stop the mutation,
smearing blood from my mouth all over my face in the process.
My head felt like it would burst
through the front of my face. Bones cracked and popped, stretching
and snapping grotesquely into new, distorted positions. My
cheekbones grew outwards, my forehead broadened, my skull split and
I could see the individual outlines of skull plates, pushing the
limits of my skin
’
s elasticity. I grabbed
my head, trying futilely to push my features back into place.
Another tooth clinked onto the tile floor, I wasn't sure which one.
I went to grab my mouth and instead filled it with hair. My hand
held clumps of hair from my head, plastered to the blood in my
palm. I reeled away from the mirror, knocking my head on the
wall.
It took me a second before I realized my reflection
hadn't moved with me. It stood exactly as I was a moment before.
Pressing its bloody face towards the mirror, hands raised upwards,
chunks of hair spilling out from in between the fingers.
For a moment I forgot my deforming face and instead
focused on this hellish new discovery. I waved my hand slowly in
front of my face to see if my reflection would mimic me like it
should, but it did nothing. It just stood there, face frozen in
horror and disbelief at the hair gripped in its hands.
This couldn't be real
…
Dumbfounded, I managed to uproot
my feet from the tile and inch towards the mirror. My reflection
stood frozen, allowing me full view of its
features
—
well, my
features
—
horribly disfigured, corrupted
beyond any semblance of recognition. Not one feature was in the
right place, I had become a mockery of a Cubism
painting.
I moved closer and closer until I was finally face
to face with myself. My reflection, finally quitting its statuesque
charade, smiled a hideous toothless smile and winked.
The next thing I remembered was
thrashing awake in my bed, the sheets stuck to my body with cold
sweat. I immediately grabbed my face and felt it, checking for any
deformities or irregularities but all was normal. I darted out of
my bed and into the bathroom, flicked on the switch, splashed water
from the faucet on my face and slapped my cheeks. It hurt. I
prayed
that meant I was
awake. I opened my mouth and gingerly prodded each tooth, expecting
my finger to sink into empty sockets from where teeth once grew.
But no, my finger hit a tooth each time. I was about to lift my
head from the sink but I had to divert my eyes away from the
mirror. I was too afraid to look at myself lest my reflection not
shadow me. Blocking my peripherals with my hand, I flicked the
switch off and fell back into bed. And laid wide awake the entire
night.
An involuntary shiver coursed through my body as I
left the bathroom. I was reminded of the experience anytime I saw
my reflection. I didn't look in a mirror, at least not directly,
for weeks after that night.
But now I couldn't remember why I
was in my room in the first place. I swear, lack of sleep is like
having amnesia. What time is it? I glanced at the clock, 9:26 A.M.
It
’
s early still... I wasn't wearing a
shirt... Only pants, so... Why was I in here? I remembered the room
spinning and catching myself on the wall. Then to the bathroom and
splashing water on my face... It was like watching myself from a
third person point of view. But every time I played the memory back
in my head, I always started at the
door clutching my head. I went to leave my room and tripped
over my
shoes. That
’
s right, I needed to put them on. I pulled out a pair of
socks from the middle drawer of the dresser and a navy blue shirt
from the second drawer from the top. I sat down on my bed and
slipped them on, pulled the shoes on and tied the laces. Double
knot. My stomach growled at me something fierce. I doubled over
from the pain.
Keys! I needed keys dammit!
That
’
s why I
’
m in
here!
I jumped back up and looked around for my car keys,
discovering them on my nightstand right in front of my face.
I was hungry, that's why I was in here. To get my
keys and go eat something. I really need to stop forgetting to eat,
it was probably why I was losing weight. It's not that I avoid
eating, I just forget. It usually takes a crippling hunger pain to
remind me that I need some sort of sustenance. I don't know why I
forget, I mean it's a pretty basic element of survival. Maybe
that's the reason.
It was a short drive from my house
off of Memoir Drive to the doughnut shop, only about two blocks
from my street. I spent a lot of my mornings there. Cheap, filling
and tasty. Not much more I could ask for. I'm not picky when it
comes to food. You have your
“
live to
eat
”
people and your
“
eat to live
”
people. I easily fit
into the second category. I found it to be a waste of my time,
especially since I got hungry so often. It takes roughly fifteen to
twenty minutes to drive somewhere and back, order and get your food
before you can start eating. Then another ten to twenty minutes to
eat depending on the meal. So somewhere between twenty-five minutes
to forty minutes for one meal. But let's say you want to eat at
home. So, depending on what there is to make it could take anywhere
from five minutes to heat something up to forty-five minutes for
prep work and actually cooking the meal. Then another ten to twenty
minutes to eat. And then there's the dishes to wash and clean up
afterward. It takes way too much time. That's why I preferred
doughnuts. You point at the one you want and start eating. Same
reason I like Chinese take out; they
’
ve
practically got the food in your hands before you're done
ordering.
I parked in the front of the shop and walked in.
Today I was having a strawberry jelly-filled doughnut. Look at me,
the poster child of healthy habits. I sat in my usual spot in the
back corner, absently chewing on the pastry. Jelly gushed out from
the opposite end that I had just bit into and plopped onto my
pants. Great.
I jolted awake, a glob of jelly
plopped on my pants from the doughnut on my desk. Great. I hadn't
slept very much the day before. I worked the graveyard shift for
Copymate Copy Machines as a security guard. It's a job anyone can
do because I mean really, how many people steal a copy machine? Who
even
buys
a copy machine anymore? But I wasn't complaining. It was easy
money and I could take naps here and there. I had a small office,
well kind of an office. More like a closet in the back of the
store, separated by a thin door from the rest of the
store.
The clock read 12:00 A.M. I had been out for a good
two hours and still had five left to go on my shift. On my
paper-cluttered desk were two computer monitors with security feeds
coming from eight cameras, each camera had its own window, four
windows to a monitor. I lazily glanced at the monitors, not seeing
anything noteworthy, and searched for a napkin to clean myself. I
found one and wiped as much of the jelly off as I could, smearing
the rest, and looked back at the screens.
The first window showed the parking lot from atop a
light post facing the street away from the building. Nothing
unusual going on. The second was a different view of the parking
lot, from a camera on a light post in the opposite corner of the
parking lot. Still nothing.
Oh fuck....
On the third window I saw
movement. It gave a view above the main entrance outside and it
looked like a person had just opened the door. I confirmed this on
the next window which showed the sales floor. Rows and rows of copy
machines created a winding maze, and sure enough, a shadowy figure
lurked across the floor, bobbing and weaving from one machine to
the next. I couldn't make out any features on him. It
looked
like
a him at least. He kept his face hidden as if he knew where the
cameras were. I couldn't even get a better view of him from the
other cameras. As he floated from one machine to the
next
—
steadily shifting to the back of the
store towards my office
—
the machines fired
up with a whir. The clamoring, clanking discord swelled as more and
more machines came to life.