So I know this is the cover of a popular book (if you know what it's called please let me know) but I just thought this was a cool pic to write about so...
Enjoy!
*SciFi/Psycho/Dystopian*
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Mirrors.
That bastard had sent her into a funhouse of horror type thing in her chase after him.
He was psychotic.
She stood surrounded by reflections of herself, all copying her stance; legs shoulder-width apart, her machete at the ready.
She didn't know where to go. Everywhere she turned there were more mirrors. She was getting frustrated, running past reflections after more reflections.
It felt as though she was running down a never ending hallway. The mirrors sent her into a wormhole of copies.
Finally, she saw a light. Perhaps the exit she could not find.
She ran towards it, trying hard to ignore the thousand duplicates of herself doing the same, all with the same desperate look on their face.
She stopped when a figure blocked her path, a blade of his own in his hand.
She could not see his face due to the light coming from behind him but she could see his smile. The whites of his teeth reminded her of everything he had done to her, to her family, friends.
His laugh surrounded them and the mirrors reflected his self. Wild, crazy, unstable.
"This is where it ends." She started, glowering at him even as her fear started to eat away at her.
With all the reflections of him she felt so very outnumbered.
"Oh sweetheart, it will never end." He responded after he laughed. "Our reflections will just repeat our ending just as the generations after us will. Every lifetime, Jane, every lifetime this will happen, history repeating itself. These mirrors have seen so many deaths, of children just like us."
He paused, walking around her slightly, the light flooded into the space he just left, banishing his shadow into the recesses of the room.
"We're very similar, you and I. We both have a story, you know." He twisted the blade in his hands, his finger resting on the tip of the blade as he turned it. A small bead of blood shone on his fingertip as he inspected it.
"But of course you will never see yourself the way I do. We are birds of a feather, Jane Doe. Now, do me a favour and tell me your name before you die."
His face was still hidden in the darkness as she shook, his wide mouthed grin reminding her so much of the Cheshire cat she used to admire.
Swallowing her fear she turned to face him face on. She could not let him continue his tirade.
"No. I won't." She snarled and launched herself in his direction, his smile only growing wider.
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Again I hope you enjoyed! Vote/comment/whatever.
Tell me what you liked, disliked. If you want any of my stories to continue.
Anywho...
Ciao!
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts Left Behind
Ficción GeneralA compilation of short stories in a variety of different genres. (Sorry this is such a terrible description, there was no way to put it without it sounding really stupid.)
