Short Stories

Twist

I can't hear anything
Not a whisper, not a sound
It's dry silence, that's a bit too loud

I lay here on the sand of the filthy beach
I breathed in the air which stunk of kerosene and smoke
Closed my eyes, alone in my own world

I listened as everything started to shake
I heard the leaves on the trees
A fire burning beside me

I opened my eyes
And heard the creaking stair, which I had mysteriously been sitting on
As I got up, and walked down,
I could see a dark basement, as dusty as an old rack

One breath in, and two sneezes were out
I shivered as the draft of sudden wind got colder
Goosebumps filled my skin,

I then walked over to an old mirror
I stared at it, looking at the person who looked back
Bored, I stretched hand out
But to my fascination, it looked back at me, hands by its side

I wasn't afraid, which was awfully not normal
I looked down on my hands, seeing blood as red as the blood moon
I took a glimpse up at the mirror
And I saw my trembling figure staring back at me

My clothes were unknowingly drenched in blood
And it looked like I was a homeless ghost. In my head, I pulled out a golden bullet. I scoffed and threw it to the side.

A golden bullet.

My supposedly “reflection” was stunned to an unmoving state, looking at their self

But they weren't as messy as I. They were in the latest designer clothes. Fresh, clean hair....and I could strangely smell the lavender perfume they had used.

I looked into my eyes on the other side of the mirrors, seeing fear, and washed up embarrassment, guilt and severe displeasure.
I smirked at the reflection, feeling my heart turn to stone as I looked at “myself”.

“You'll never get past what you did to those people. You murdered them in cold blood, no sweat, and psychotic tears. And now you're trembling infront of your future?”

My reflection dropped to their knees, putting their hands on its head.

“You loved money so much that you're gonna die with it in your head. Literally.”

I told him, referring to the golden bullet I pulled out earlier.

I turned my back, to go back to my lonely, dark abyss. However, I turned back and gave him a look of humor.

“Don't go into a haunted house of the people you murdered thinking they won't turn on you.

Cause they gave you exactly what you deserved.

A psycho's mind.”