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Beyond the Threshold

Haunted by a Memory, Hunted by a Demon

By Timberly PricePublished about a year ago 12 min read
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Beyond the Threshold
Photo by michal dziekonski on Unsplash

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. My trembling hand reached out to touch the smudged glass, tracing the outline of the greyish figure with white, luminescent eyes staring back at me. As I peered at it in confusion, the creature mimicked my movements, further intensifying my unease.

My gaze drifted to the pill bottle resting at the back of the porcelain sink. I quickly scooped it up, hoping to find an explanation for the unsettling reflection staring back at me. I held my breath as I inspected the label, verifying that I had not accidentally ingested the wrong medicine. It was my usual prescription for pain relief, so it couldn’t have been the cause.

Turning back to the mirror, my heart skipped a beat as I caught sight of the creature once more. However, this time, it was holding something different. Instead of a pill bottle, it clutched a beating heart, pulsating with life. My fingers went slack, and the bottle slipped from my grasp, clattering loudly in the sink below.

The creature, unresponsive to my actions, stared menacingly at me, holding the heart to its wide, thin mouth. I let out an audible gasp, my mind racing with terror and confusion. Was this a hallucination brought on by the medication?

Suddenly, a knock at the door made me jump, snapping me back to reality. I whipped my head away from the mirror, facing the closed bathroom door. My aunt’s voice called out to me, asking if I was alright.

“I’m fine, Aunt Lois,” I replied, my voice shaky. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“We have to leave soon, so hurry up,” she said before her footsteps faded away.

Turning back to the mirror, I braced myself for another encounter with the creature. But to my relief, my tired reflection was all that greeted me. I let out a deep sigh, shaking my head at the strange incident, attributing it to my lack of sleep.

After finishing up in the bathroom, I met my aunt in the living room before we headed to my doctor’s appointment.

***

Sitting sideways on the exam room bed, I anxiously awaited my physician’s return with the latest results. Although I had been feeling better physically. Mentally, it had been a different story. I hoped to eventually be able to get off my pain medication.

As we waited, my aunt noticed my unusual silence and asked me, “What’s wrong, Kyra? You’ve been quieter than usual.”

I replied, “It’s nothing. Just a rough couple of nights.”

“I know these five months have been tough for you, with your mother’s passing, bed rest, and moving in with me,” she said comfortingly, placing her hand on my lap. “We’ll get through this, okay? Remember, none of this was your fault.”

“I know,” I responded, “I’m just taking it one day at a time.”

The doctor entered the room, interrupting our conversation, and proceeded to flip through my chart held in a manila folder. Flashing me a warm smile, Dr. Polanco greeted me, “Nice to see you, Ms. Reed. How have you been since our last check-up?”

I shrugged nonchalantly, replying, “Better. Not experiencing as much pain as last time.”

“Excellent news,” he responded, settling onto a stool next to his computer. “Based on the new X-rays we’ve taken, everything seems to be healing nicely. Your lumbar section is looking great.”

“So, does this mean I can stop taking my medication?”

“If you’re feeling alright and have no pain, we can take you off the medication,” he confirmed.

“I’d like that,” I said, a sense of relief washing over me.

As he entered some details into the computer, Dr. Polanco asked, “Is there anything else that you’d like to discuss? Any other issues you’ve been experiencing? No headaches or vomiting?”

“Nope, nothing out of the ordinary,” I replied, deciding to keep the incident with the creature to myself. It seemed like something I should discuss with my therapist instead.

Dr. Polanco smiled and said, “I’d say we can limit our visits then. Instead of every couple of weeks, we can push it to every couple of months. How’s that sound to you, ladies?”

“That sounds like great news,” my aunt exclaimed, her face lighting up. She turned to me and asked, “How does that sound to you, Kyra?”

I nodded and answered honestly, “That sounds perfect.”

“Great. We’ll chat about a few more things and then you can enjoy the rest of your day.”

After the appointment, my aunt treated me to a day at the mall and a delicious dinner at our favorite restaurant.

***

I groaned and thrashed in bed, tangled in sweaty sheets that clung to my legs. My eyes snapped open, and I checked the time, as I did every night when the nightmare woke me up - 3:15 AM. I wiped a clammy hand across my forehead and thought about the accident that had haunted me for the last five months.

In my recurring dream, my mother’s smiling face would fill my vision as we drove to a family reunion, only for everything to dissolve into screams and darkness. I wiped the tears from my eyes and sat up, exhausted.

I headed to the bathroom, where I had seen a grayish figure yesterday morning. I shook my head, still trying to convince myself that it was just my imagination. But as I looked in the mirror, I saw the creature looming behind me, and I spun around with a gasp. It was gone, and the door was still closed, so how could it have escaped so quickly?

Suddenly, Aunt Lois burst in, wielding a wooden spoon like a weapon. Her eyes widened when she saw me, and she lowered the spoon slowly. “What on earth, Kyra? I heard you scream, and I thought you were being attacked.”

I tried to downplay the situation. “I thought I saw a rat.”

“All that commotion for a rat?” Aunt Lois sighed. “I don’t like them either, but it’s almost four in the morning. You can’t scare an old woman like that.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t press the issue. “It just startled me.”

Aunt Lois looked around the bathroom warily. “Why don’t we get some rest and deal with the rat in the morning?”

I nodded, grateful to have a reason to leave the bathroom. “That sounds like a plan.”

I didn’t even revert my eyes back to the mirror as I scurried out of the bathroom behind my aunt. I headed back to bed, hoping that my nightmares were done for the rest of the night.

***

The following morning, I entered the dining room and spotted my Aunt Lois sipping her coffee at the table. I grabbed a box of cereal and poured it into a bowl, hoping to have a quick breakfast before I started my day. My aunt broke the silence, “Are you sure you want to go back to college in the fall?”

I took a moment to consider her question and then responded, “Yes, I’m sure. I think it’s the best thing for me right now.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said, nodding. “But just remember, if you ever need to come back home, you’re always welcome here.”

“Thanks, Aunt Lois. I appreciate it,” I replied, grateful for her unwavering support.

As I finished my cereal, she placed her wrinkled hand on top of mine. “I just want to make sure you’re mentally prepared for this,” she said. “Losing someone can be tough, but you’re stronger than you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, squeezing her hand.

Aunt Lois smiled at me before standing up from the table. “What are your plans for today?”

“I was thinking of taking a walk in the park across the street. Get some fresh air and exercise.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” she said. “Just be careful not to overdo it.”

“I will,” I promised.

“And what about you?” I asked as she started to head to the sink to rinse her cup.

“I have some spring cleaning to do around the house. But I’ll manage.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?”

“No, no,” she waved her hand dismissively. “You go enjoy your walk. I’ll take care of things here.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said, finishing the last of my cereal. “I’ll see you later.”

As I walked out of the house, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for my aunt’s constant support and understanding. It made the prospect of going back to college seem a little less daunting.

***

After enjoying a refreshing walk in the park, I returned home to find my aunt waiting for me in the living room. Her expression was a mix of disappointment and anger, and I couldn’t help but wonder what had caused the sudden change in mood. As I approached her, I noticed the Ouija board I had bought a couple of weeks ago on the coffee table.

“Why did you bring this into my house?” she demanded, pointing at the board.

Surprised by her reaction, I asked, “How did you find it?”

“That’s not the point,” she replied sternly. “Do you know how dangerous this is?”

“I just wanted to try to contact my mother,” I said, my voice cracking with emotion. “I wanted to apologize to her.”

“You can’t use an Ouija board to do that,” my aunt scolded me. “Do you realize what you’ve put us both at risk for?”

“I didn’t know,” I replied, tears streaming down my face. “I just wanted to talk to her.”

My aunt picked up the board and examined it closely. “Have you used it?”

“I have,” I admitted. “But it didn’t work.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asked with concern in her voice.

“I don’t know,” I replied, feeling confused and scared. “But I’ve been seeing strange things since I used it.”

“What kind of things?” my aunt asked, her tone serious.

“There’s this strange creature, gray and tall. It only appears in the bathroom mirror,” I explained, shivering at the memory.

“We need to destroy this board right away,” she said, heading for the sliding glass door that led to the backyard. “It’s too dangerous to keep around.”

I followed her outside, my heart racing with fear. “What’s happening?”

“When your mother and I were younger, we tried to contact a friend who had died,” my aunt said as she poured lighter fluid over the board. “But we ended up summoning something much more sinister. We were haunted by terrifying visions and supernatural occurrences.”

“How did you make it stop?” I asked, feeling a sense of dread wash over me.

“We burned the board and moved away from that house,” she said, her eyes clouded with memories. “But I’m afraid it may not have been enough.”

“Do you think I brought back whatever you and Mom encountered years ago?” I asked, feeling sick to my stomach.

“It’s possible,” she said, striking a match and tossing it onto the board. “But we’ll never know for sure.”

The board lit up, but its glow dissipated quickly, leaving no visible damage. My aunt and I looked at each other, both confused by what had just happened. Suddenly, a loud shattering explosion came from inside the house, breaking us from our shocked state.

My aunt turned to me, “We should leave.”

“No, I’m not running. We’re going to end this,” I said, determined to face whatever was causing the disturbance.

“How are you going to do that? It’s too powerful,” my aunt said, her voice wavering.

“It’s only powerful if we give it the power.”

I walked back into the house, ignoring the smoke and flickering lights as I made my way to the bathroom. As I approached, I noticed black vines protruding from the room. They were sticky and seemed to be growing in every direction. I carefully stepped over the broken shards of mirror on the floor and made my way to the sink.

Looking into the shattered mirror, I saw nothing but a black void with heavy smoke billowing out of it. Suddenly, a slender gray hand with long nails reached up and grabbed the bottom edge of the mirror. The creature pulled itself up, its face cocked to one side as it moved unnaturally.

Its long limbs crawled out of the mirror, extending from the sink to the floor. Slowly, it rose to its feet, towering over me as I stood back in fear. My body trembled, but I knew I had to face the creature.

As it stalked closer to me, its bright white eyes held mine, making me feel like I was in some sort of trance. I tried to break free from its gaze, but it was too powerful.

“Don’t hurt her,” my aunt’s voice interrupted the moment. The creature turned its head, and in a flash, vines wrapped around her body, pinning her against the wall. It then turned its attention back to me, its cold, dead hands cradling my face. The creature then transformed into my mother’s likeness, with her hazel eyes and upturned lips.

“Mom,” I whispered in disbelief.

“Don’t be frightened, sweetheart,” she replied as her thumbs swept over my cheeks. “We can be together again. You brought me home.”

“I love you so much. I’m sorry that I put us in that situation. If I had waited two more seconds to cross the intersection, we would have avoided that truck.”

“It’s not your fault. It was an accident,” she comforted me.

Tears streamed down my face, and I reached out blindly, my fingers finding a shard of glass resting on the back of the toilet. I tightened my grip and plunged the shard into her neck, causing her to screech and transform back into the gray creature. As the creature tried to swipe at me with its sharp nails, its skin started to peel off in spider-like webs, revealing a black veiny substance underneath. It backed into the sink, clawing at its neck as the substance consumed it. The mirror behind the creature turned into a vortex, retracting everything back to where it came from. Our home slowly returned to what it once was, and the creature was taken back to where it came from.

I ran over to my aunt who was panting on the floor, and I asked, “Are you, okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” She nodded as she leaned back into the wall. “How about you?”

“I’m not hurt.”

“Do you think it’s over?”

I shrugged as I looked around. “I’m not sure. But it seems like it.”

She pulled me into a hug and said, “I’m sorry you’ll never get the closure you want.”

“It may not be the closure I was looking for, but after this experience, I think I’m content.”

“I’m happy to hear that.”

I stood and helped my aunt off the floor. “I’ll go take the Ouija board and dump it somewhere.”

“I’ll go with you,” she said. “I want to help complete this terrifying ordeal.”

After retrieving the Ouija board from the backyard, we searched for a dumpster to dispose of it. I prayed that whatever entity we had summoned was no longer present in our home. While I desired closure, the ordeal of the past three days had been too painful. Nevertheless, I am relieved that the deed is finally done.

Short StoryHorror
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About the Creator

Timberly Price

Fiction writer and self-published author.

Follow me on Instagram: @timberlyprice_author

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