Coffee With A Little Death

Chapter Nine: I've gotta case of the coffee shivers

Day three and Four:

Part four:

It abruptly halted at my armrest; seemingly disinterested towards the lady in black, who vanished from screen moments ago.

It lingered leisurely; sniffing the air; following the scent as it descended with the apparently intoxicating aroma, hovering over my limp arm. The it; had simultaneously let itself show.
The whisking shadows had faded as the physique now muscular; bulging; standing prominently taller than most; though short, the head baring some fanatical waves; a strong jaw held up the epitome of cheek bones; the nose perfected in shape; but the eyes, placed side by side, with exact measurement; fierce but pleasing.
The textbook male figure had transfixed itself upon me.
I don't believe this to be accurate as I watched in fearful fascination.

As I continued to gap, my head tilted along with the males; placing a singular kiss upon my cheek, and in doing so, shed the image that was being portrayed.

His body lifting; bare feet molding to hooves; skin splitting... traveling up his calves; thighs; buttocks; broad back; neck; melting the bronze tan to inflamed flesh; he stretched; shooting his hands and arms upward; the river of red had made a snake slithering reach to the tips of the fingers and in doing so, he released a laughter of bass tone proportions.

The head swiveled, reveling in his terrifying transformation; mustard slits of eye beamed to me; here now... in this bedroom! His mouth pulling into a full grin; teeth varied; sharper than others.

I grimaced as I faced the inevitable conclusion, I was staring at the him! Presumably... the one and only ruler of the underworld!

His canines parted. "You don't belong here... but you will." It coarsely bustled.

I looked to the white hooded figure; she had disappeared; only I was wrong as the thin limbs drummed one by one onto my right shoulder. She had moved along the room and had stood behind me; waiting.
I convulsed. My eyes quickly filled up; I never cried; not for my grandmother; not for anything terrible that ever transpired; a tear spilled now.

I trembled under her grip; as the inflamed figure in the glass had vanished; the glass had returned to its natural ability. I looked upon myself; shaking; scared; then a tiny fraction of light appeared from left of me by the mirror's reflection – the window.
I gritted my teeth; readying for the resolve to fully take command.

I took off in a heaped flash; rolling into all the stacked crap blocking my way; jumping onto toys... boxes; something broke by the sound it; I did. Not. Care.

Finally clearing a small area, I leaped; sending myself through the closed glass windowpane. The heat escaping along with me as the air spit in the contrasting temperatures.

Landing onto cold tile; shards of glass and all sliding across it; slamming into a nearby wall. I took heaving breaths as I gathered what thoughts trampled me.

I wasn't outside!

I was in a relatively decent sized bathroom. I had broken through the mirror atop the multiple sink counter. My skeeting across the floor had only been erupted by a stall partition. There was only brick wall facing me as disbelief slapped my cheeks.

A fearing cry whimpered up my throat but stalled as I swallowed it back down.
Was this absolutely reality right now... or had lost the last of my brain cells fluid?
How could anyone think that this could be true?
Would anyone believe the syllables cooing from my own mouth, for that matter?

I pushed myself onto my knees, ingesting the whole scene.

Instantaneously, the whistles and corresponding pounding of wheels scrapping along miles of rails paraded nearby.

Am I still near the train station?

Certainly, sounds suspiciously like winding and thundering sounds of a train track. What the hell was going on? I wanted nothing more – now – than to know why all these out-of-worldly odd occurrences are happening... especially to me! Why was I being targeted for absurdity; that's it – I've gone off my own rails; off the cliff and slid right into an eternal version and formation of bonkers!

Uugghhfff...

I grumbled, pushing the entirety of my body on my left knee up.
A gnarly cookie cutter shaped triangle stuck out of my thigh. The thought nor pain even crossed my mind after the fact of flying across with all the debris; adrenaline may have played a key factor in keeping myself focus from acknowledging the deep bastard of glass.

More irritated than painful inducing, I fished it out like I had glass stuck in me, every hour on the hour. Still... No! Pain!

Of course, with even further investigation, the lack of discomfort took a backseat, as the part of mirror had nothing on it... clean as with Windex; no smearing from my fingers; NO BLOOD!

My chest sucked what air could be inhaled. Choking as most of it swooped down and into the pipe. Hacking and cackling as I dragged the heavy door open. Yet, the scenery my eyes caught sped up the controlling of the random spurts of coughing hiccups.

Had I traveled back in time? I screamed inward. Every person; albeit, a few newer ones here and there scattered about the room; but much of the people were the same faces; dresses; suits that I had first laid eyes on the first day I got here.

Unless these people have doppelgängers on speed dial, ready to pull the ultimate prank, these were the identical forms I've seen all before.

One suit stood out prominently among the crowd; the slick charcoaled fit three-piece suit flattered him right down to the round top shoes. His side Part complimented him incredibly well as he smirked and waved with only the fingers of his right hand – he was either mocking me, or hardly surprised to see me.
I pursed my lips in protest as I hid the pleasantry of seeing him here – again.

He casually and strutting to his own beat, made his way to me. Still just outside the bathroom door; looking as frightful as I could picture myself to be; hell, how would I even know – I came crashing through the only reflected surface to show indication of my appearance.
Whatever guise I'm wearing would have to do – at this point, he'll take what I can give.

"You look like you could use a coffee." He appealed. At least he was sincere with his proposal as to contrary appearance he carried in assured pride. He was correct on that note; a coffee of epic proportions.