Spectrophobia

11: Broken Glass

(Gore content)

He backed away from the shiny reflection.

"What the hell are you..?!"

He mumbled, fear striking his heart like a stone-cold dagger.

It said nothing, it only grinned.

"You.. you killed my brother, you fucking bastard!"

It's mouth began to open. It was laughing. That gruesome screaming laughter. Ray thrusted his hands over his ears, panting as adrenaline coursed through his system - yelling at him to run.

"Leave me alone!" - he screamed at the reflection in the window; begging at it.

At his words, the window shattered. Shards of glass exploding across the entire room - tiny daggers digging itself into any surface it could find. Ray tripped over his feet; avoiding the glass; landing hard on his back. He shrieked upon impact.

As suddenly as it had happened; it became quiet. The sound of Ray's breathing, the sound of the sharp, bitter wind blowing through the hole in the wall.

He sat up, looking around. There was no sign of the reflection. It must have fled when it shattered the window.

He got up and moved towards the door the doctor had walked into before the reflection arrived. His movement was sluggish, drained with life from the startling event. He carefully walked over the broken glass and opened the door.

Too late.

The doctor was there. At least, what remained of her.

Her body was torn in half. Her insides spilled out - displayed horrifically around her, like some child's doll accessory. It looked like her skull had been trodden on. Caved in completely and smashed to broken puzzle pieces. Rattling in her head like shells of bullets. The blood still continued to spill around her.

Raymond gagged. He ran out of the room before promptly throwing up all over the glass coated floor.

He was terrified, of this damned entity that followed him everywhere. He wasn't even sure how it could have possibly followed him. But one thing he had learned so far: nothing is fucking impossible. Panting heavily, his eyes locked onto the door.

Surely the policemen heard the glass breaking? Or even that devilish laughter. They must have; loud enough to leave people's eardrums to completely bleed out.

No-one came. Perhaps they were more further away than he thought.

Footsteps. There were footsteps.

Ray spun around - attempting to lock onto the location of the sound. He bent down and picked up a shard of glass. Long and pointed - glimmering in the light like a crystal. He held it over his shoulder as a weapon. It felt good in his hand.

The footsteps were coming from the closed door we was staring at.

Slow, steady, patient. Like a panther stalking it's oblivious prey, ready to sink its teeth into its flesh. Not this time, this time the prey was ready for it.

The steps stopped outside the door.

Ray held his breath, moving towards the door himself. Though he tried not to, the shard trembled in his hand.

"Hey! You're not allowed outside! Step back inside Mr Newman."

Ray froze. They really thought it was him out there. 

Fuck, they were gonna die.

Ray pulled at the door handle. It didn't budge. It was stuck - glued to its frame. He banged on the door, now screaming at the men.

"It's not me! It's not me! He's gonna kill you, he's gonna kill you!"

They heard him. They definitely did.

"What the-" - came the perplexed voice of one of the officers.

"Run, run! He's gonna kill you!"

His efforts at warning the men were fruitless - along with his banging attempts to scream for help.

'Run'

Came the voice of the other Raymond. The sick twin.

A loud wet snap ricocheted across the open hallway that lay on the other side of the door. Accompanied with a loud splatter - a thump and a scream.

"Jesus fucking Christ!"

The entity roared. Deep and resonating; human yet inhuman. 

Ray pleaded, screamed, begged; trapped on the other side of the door. He dug the shard into the door, hoping to somehow break it open. He could hear the tortured cries of the policemen as they piled into the hallway - only to be met with a demonic copy of Ray slitting their throats open.

Panicking, Ray turned from the screaming door, looking around the room for any way to escape.

The window.

Not caring for the glass on the floor; the least of his concerns; he ran to the hole in the wall and peered through. The wind whipped his hair sideways, almost blinding him.

He found he was not exactly too high enough that a fall could cause him significant damage.

He lifted his leg over the the window sill and planted a firm grip along the outside end of the window. He manoeuvred his other leg - following the action of his first leg. He pulled himself out of the room and out into the bitter air.

He edged himself down and dropped to the floor. Landing hard, but not too damaging.

He ran across the end of the building; hopping over some flower beds; and peered at the other side. He could see a range of police cars parked outside. Many men were yelling orders and concerns at one another. Some even braving enough to charge into the chaos.

Ray had no choice but to run. Perhaps now they would believe him.

He had to return home - to house number 33. He figured the reflection may follow him there and leave the bastards alone. He had caused enough damage already.

He turned himself around - only to be met with the face of a man.

Startled, he stumbled back. He realised who it was. It was Blondie, the man who held sympathy over him and treated him like the person he was. His face was etched with a grave stern face. A face he had not seen on the man before.

Blondie gripped his shoulder and placed a finger to his lips. Confused - Ray nodded at the promise to keep quiet. He was goddamned glad to.

"I think I know what's happening. I need you to come with me."

Ray hesitated. He wasn't sure if this was true or if the man was trying to gain his trust - before he would then stab him in the back by handing him over to the authorities. Hell, he was the authority.

"You need to trust me with this; I won't tell a soul. I will explain everything if you come with me. I know someone who can help you. Someone who's done this before."

Ray frowned then sighed. He hadn't really much of a choice. He was desperate for help. Anything to get rid of this predicament and that fucking mirror.

"Okay, fine. Let's just go before someone else gets killed."