Scary Stories

Chapter 10 - The Printer

I think we've all put our faces in copiers as kids. It was a fun thing to do, especially when we didn't have modern luxuries like iPads or YouTube.

So yesterday afternoon, when my kid was bored as heck, I decided to give it a try with him.

Yeah, it was a waste of ink. But honestly, it was worth it, if it pried my kid away from Minecraft speed runs and hot wheels unboxing videos. I switched it to black-and-white ink only, and started the fun.

We copied his hands a few times. He laughed with glee. "Do your face now," I told him. He scrunched his lips up, like an exaggerated duck face, and stuck his face against the glass. I lowered the lid on his head (which was very light.)

"Close your eyes! The light's bright!" I told him, as the band of white light began sliding across the glass, scanning his face.

Then came the ch-ch-ch of the page printing.

But when he grabbed the page, my heart sank.

In the picture... his eyes were open. He wasn't doing the duck face, either.

"Did you open your eyes?" I asked him.

He shook his head.

I stared down at the picture. His face pressed up against the glass, his cheeks and forehead pushed flat. In the high contrast, his medium-brown eyes looked pure black.

"Again! Again!" Matthew chanted, lifting the lid and sticking his head in.

I hesitated. Then I lowered the lid and pressed copy.

Ch-ch-ch.

The paper came out, inch by inch.

I saw Matthew's ear.

Then his cheek.

His eye—wide open.

And then his mouth.

His mouth stretched out into a gaping O. As if he were screaming.

I grabbed Matthew and pulled him back. The lid clattered shut. "But it's not done!" he protested.

Ch-ch-ch—*the rest of the page came out, although I could see the exact moment I'd pulled Matthew away. There was a line three-quarters of the way across his face, cutting off half his right eye and cheek, turning into a mess of warped gray lines.

"Does this scare you?" I asked.

"No."

"I think we should play with something else for a while," I said.

But I want to do this!"

I was finally able to pull him away from it and give him something else to do. But even after he was in bed that night, something disturbed me. While the copies were being made, I could see his face under the lid. The second time, I'd stared at his face the entire time, to make sure he didn't open his eyes.

He didn't.

So why did the picture show his eyes open?

I told my husband about the whole thing after Matthew was asleep. "Hey, I remember doing that when I was a kid," Peter laughed. "I remember doing my butt, too. I got in a lot of trouble for that."

"But... I swear he didn't open his eyes."

"He probably did for just a second."

But if he'd only opened his eyes for a second... The scanner moved linearly, printing as it copied. If he'd opened his eyes just for a second, I'd expect to see one eye open and one eye closed, or even just half an eye open. When I'd pulled his head away, the rest of his head didn't copy.

I explained this all to him, but he was unperturbed. "Let me try it," he said.

"... What?"

"Might just be a glitch or something."

Peter walked over to the printer and turned it on. Lifted the lid and stuck his face in. The scanner-light hummed to life, sliding across the glass. *Ch-ch-ch—*the page began to print.

And then it happened.

I noticed the page first. My husband's eye on the page, wide with fear. The corner of his mouth twisting down.

And then he was pulled into the printer.

I don't know how else to describe it. It was like something... something under the glass, next to the blinding strip of light... grabbed him by the head and yanked him through. I heard glass shatter.

It happened so fast, by the time I lunged for him, only his feet were poking out.

Then the lid clattered shut, and he was gone.

"Peter?" I screamed. "Peter!"

Ch-ch-ch.

The rest of the page printed out.

Peter's face—his final image—printed on the page. The left side of this face, perfectly clear—eye wide, mouth open. Abject terror.

The other side of his face...

A twisted mess of warped lines, fading into black