Mirrored Truth
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Short Gothic story with gore.
"I heard it again tonight. I scribble into the journal that I keep under my pillow, the pages of which were filling up quickly as I recount the happenings that now took place each night. It was the same haunting tap that resonates in my room, ricocheting off of every surface as if trying to hold onto its presence in my room a little longer. The noise was something that, if not for the hollow echo which lingered on for hours afterwards, still faintly ringing in my ears, haunting me as I go about my day, would seem as commonplace as the sound of footsteps in a school during class. Not unexpected, normal even. But this sound was unlike any other that I had heard before in my lifetime. It sounded like the dead knocking on their coffins asking to be released. And the sound never ended, it was always there, no matter how faint, always echoing off in a far place that only my ears could reach. Slowly driving me mad as the days continued."
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