Two-Faced

Chapter 6

         The next few days dragged on mercilessly. Everywhere Asriel went, a deep, unrelenting sense of dread clung to her shoulders, whispering stories of death and tragedy in her ears. The feeling of her every move being watched haunted her, but she was never able to find a solid cause of the fear. Her anxiety peaked, and slowly faded as the realization that she could do nothing to stop this set in. That was one burden lifted, at least. The footsteps upstairs didn't even bother her anymore; they were regular occurrences by this point. Her mom still hasn't noticed though, which she thought was weird. She's been home when whatever-it-is decided to stomp down the hallway of the silent house, but there's been no reaction of any kind. Oh well. She was sure she'd find proof eventually.

         Searching in all of the drawers and cabinets downstairs, Asriel yelled up to her mom. "Have you seen Dad's old camera? I can't find it anywhere!"

         A moment's hesitation, then her reply came. "I think I put it in the spare room. In the closet, with everything else we have left of his. Just... please be careful with it, okay? You can't get them anymore, especially not for cheap like you used to."

         "I know, I'll be careful. I just want to take a few pictures."

         "Alright honey, I trust you. Put it back once you're done, alright?" Asriel's mom called out over her daughter's thundering footsteps.

         "I will. Thank you!" Asriel peeked her head in her mother's room, giving her a warm smile before running off to find the camera.

         As soon as she walked into the room, something made her relax. The unease that resided in the back of her mind dulled to almost nothing in the presence of the remaining reminders of her father's vibrant, unique life. Framed photos of the three of them together lined the walls and littered the dressers and nightstand, the film adopting a variety of brown-tinted hues in the morning light. Running her fingers along the glass, her eyes began to well up with tears.

         Pressing her forehead to the cool glass, she whispered through her quiet sobs. "I miss you."

         Straightening up, she wiped the tears from her eyes and made her way over to the closet. Sure enough, the cracked leather case was waiting for her on the shelf. She took it off carefully, revealing the silver device held within. The metal was cool to the touch, but it gave off a warm glow.

         Holding the camera up to her face, she snapped a picture of the doorway to assure that it still works. After a little bit of a wait, to her relief, a click escaped the device. Whether or not the picture was focused didn't matter; she had enough film to sacrifice one picture. And, according to the article she'd saved, she'd have to prepare for more failures than that.

         Clutching the camera to her chest, she pressed the door back into its worn, wooden frame. As it clicked shut, a cold washed over her, pulsed through her, if only for a second. Tensing up, she whirled around, the camera ready in her hand. She was greeted by an empty hallway, nothing out of place. The only movement came from the mirror at the end of the hall, playing her actions back to her like a surveillance monitor. Placing the fabric strap around her neck, she let the camera settle on her chest. Stepping forward towards the mirror, she didn't notice anything at first. Just her worried reflection staring back at her. Then she saw it. A blurred figure, just beyond her right shoulder. It appeared a ways back, then disappeared just as quickly. Rubbing her eyes, she stared back into the mirror. Nothing. She shook her head and walked away, down to the kitchen.

         "Oh my lord, I'm going crazy!" she muttered to herself, holding her hands against her head. Leaving the camera on the table, she made her way over to the sink. "I... what am I supposed to do?"

         Holding a glass under the tap, she listened to the water flowing with her eyes shut tight. Utter confusion and distress clawed its way out of her, forcing her to lose hold on the glass. It fell to the bottom of the sink, cracking up one side without shattering. She picked it up carefully. Great. Just great. Placing it on the counter beside the sink, she started to run upstairs to ask what to do with it. She was stopped by the shock of a dull thud against her back, followed by shattering glass at her feet.

         "What the heck?!" she shouted, twisting around aggressively. "Why do you keep doing stuff like this?! What did I ever do to you!?"

         "Asriel, what's wrong, what happened?" her mom asked, her footsteps rushing down the stairs two at a time. "I heard you yelling, is everything alright-"

         Her eyes widened at the sight of her daughter. Asriel was confused, and her gaze shifted to where her mom was looking. She hadn't even noticed the glass cutting into her feet, but sure enough, bloody footprints covered the off-white tile floor. The pain set in soon after, like each nerve caught up with the situation one at a time and finally decided to do their job. Wincing at the sudden pain, she tried to walk towards a chair to get the weight off her feet. Moving made it worse.

         "Asriel, what happened to you?!" her mom demanded, a worried expression plastered on her face.

         "I don't know! It was that stupid ghost! It hasn't left me alone since we got here!" she shouted, sounding angrier than she meant to. Turning red, she averted her eyes, staring at the now-crimson floor. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

         "Azzy, Azzy, calm down. It's alright. Here, let me help you sit down so I can clean you up." she guided her over to the chair, letting her lean on her shoulder as they walked.

         "Thanks, Mom."

         "You're welcome, honey. Just hold still for me. I'll be right back," she explained calmly, going to find the first-aid kit they kept in the bathroom closet.

         Returning with the kit a few minutes later, she silently cleaned the wound and bound both feet with mesh bandages. Once she finished, she looked up at Asriel with a sympathetic smile. "You need to be more careful, alright?"

         "I will. I promise," she assured her, standing up with a little wince. "Here, let me help. It's my mess, after all."

         "No, no, I'll take care of this. You need to stay off those feet of yours as much as possible, alright? Can you do that for me?" she insisted, turning away from the mess to make sure her stubborn daughter understood. Nodding, Asriel returned to the chair, her mom returning to her cleaning.

         Even distracted by the throbbing pain in her feet, she didn't fail to notice the blurred shadow sitting on the countertop, laughing at her from across the room.