Double Vision

29

029. rene .

mar. 31, 2024.

3:01 a.m.

Mirrors. So many mirrors. 

I think I might be suffering a worse fate than death. Lavinia would've been doing me a favor had she killed me the moment I stepped into that bathroom. 

She brought me into the realm of the dead, and, as she called it, her boundary. Which is literally a huge ballet room with mirrors for walls and nothing in it but a music box that only plays one song. She said it's the 1905 Regina Classical Overture, but it's ingrained in my mind as the Five Nights at Freddy's song.

She said she was born in 1905. The idea of me being stuck with a 118 year old ghost that looks like a child is more terrifying than me being stuck with a 118 year old ghost that looks like an adult.

But she told me she's not a ghost, she's an apparition. But I don't know the difference, so it doesn't really matter.

I don't even want to know how she died. She said she died in the bathroom we met in, and just thinking about the possibilities makes me sick to my stomach.

I've learned a good chunk of information in the days I've been here, although I haven't enjoyed any of the time I've spent here. There's seven known apparitions, and they're all ranked, with seven being the most powerful and one being the weakest. She's number two, so I think I got lucky.

I watched Lavinia dance around the room, while I sat curled up against the wall. My phone died within an hour of being here, and there's obviously no charging ports in the spirit realm.

I want to go home.

Lavinia, with her haunting grace, moves effortlessly through the space, the music box echoing in the empty room. Sometimes she gazes at me with those ageless eyes, filled with a mixture of curiosity and perhaps a hint of pity.

I try to muster the courage to speak to her, to plead for my release, but the words stick in my throat like cold fingers of dread. What power does she hold over me? Something about her being a child is so much more intimidating.

Maybe there is a way out. Or maybe I'm just destined to stay here forever, watching Lavinia dance endlessly until I grow old and die. But I'm starting to doubt that as a possibility, because I haven't eaten or drank anything, yet I haven't even begun to feel hungry.

"Number Two," I called out, my voice sounding much louder than I meant it to, echoing throughout the vast emptiness of the room. "Please, I beg of you, release me from this place. I don't belong here. I'll do anything."

For a moment, Lavinia paused in her dance, her gaze fixing on me with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, she glided towards me, her form shimmering in the dim light cast by the mirrors.

"You'd do anything?" she murmured, her voice a haunting echo in the silence.

I nodded, feeling a sense of desperation wash over me. "Yes, anything. Just please, let me go."

Lavinia tilted her head, studying me with those dead eyes. "Well," she finally said, her voice carrying a weight of centuries past. "It comes at a price. I don't think it's a very fair price, but I'm supposed to make the deal with everyone who sees me."

My heart sank, but I knew I had no choice but to listen. "What price?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"You'll be bound to me, and you'll have to kill at least 40 people per day."

The words hung heavy in the air, chilling me to the bone. Kill 40 people per day? The mere thought of it sent waves of nausea crashing over me. How could I even contemplate such a horrific task?

I recoiled, shaking my head vehemently. "No... I can't... I won't..."

Lavinia's expression remained eerily calm, her gaze unwavering. "Then you'll stay here." she stated matter-of-factly.

Desperation clawed at my chest, but the idea of becoming a murderer was unthinkable. Yet, the prospect of endless confinement in this spectral prison was equally unbearable.

My mind raced, searching for an alternative, any loophole that might offer a glimmer of hope. But as I glanced around the mirrored walls, reflecting endless images of Lavinia and myself, I realized that I was truly at her mercy.

"Surely my team will come get me out of here." I whispered, my voice barely audible even to myself.

Lavinia's expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of sympathy crossing her face. "Then you've made your choice," she said softly, her tone tinged with sorrow. "You'll stay here, with me."

With a heavy heart, I sank to the floor, feeling the weight of my decision bearing down upon me. In the mirrored expanse of the ballet room, I saw my reflection staring back at me, haunted and hollow.

And as Lavinia resumed her endless dance, the strains of the music box filling the empty space, I realized that I was truly alone, trapped in a nightmare of my own making.

Wait.

With the Aneri case, there are always 40 aneurysms reported per day. Does that mean Aneri made a deal with an apparition?

I need out of here. I need to tell them.

I wish I could contact them.