I know

The first time Benji heard the whisper, he was standing over his brother’s grave. Tears blurred his vision, not quite falling but threatening to leak at any moment.

It was a selcouth sound. It wasn't wind or a voice really... but something in between. A breath that curled around his ear like smoke, causing goosebumps to erupt over his arms.

“I know.”

He spun to see behind him. His heart was pounding in his chest. The cemetery was empty. There were just rows of weathered stones and trees that seemed to claw at the sky.

Benji had buried Joel three days ago. His twin had been the only person he had left in the world. They were orphans who were used to being alone. But this? This was different. When Benji had Joel, they were alone together. Now, Benji was just alone.

A drunk driver had stolen his best and only friend. It called for a closed casket. But something felt off. Miraculously, Joel's face had been untouched. Not a single scratch to be found. Still, the mortician insisted on sealing the lid. Benji hadn’t questioned it then. That whisper had him questioning it now.

That night, Benji dreamed of dirt. The thick, wet soil was pressing against his chest, filling his mouth and lungs. It smelled like death. He woke gasping. He lifted his hands to his face and turned them over in disbelief. His fingernails were packed with mud.

The whisper came again the next day. He heard it in the shower. He heard it in the hum of the dryer. He heard it in the silence between song breaks on his CDs.

Over and over again, Benji heard it.

“I know.”

He tried to ignore it. But the phrase burrowed into his thoughts like maggots in roadkill. What did it mean? What did Joel know?

Benji was losing his mind. The phrase playing over and over in his head like a broken record was literally driving him mad. He returned to the cemetery that night with a shovel in hand. The moon was hidden behind a thick curtain of clouds. There was barely enough light to see by. Benji dug, flinging shovels of wet soil over his shoulder. He dug until his arms burned, until the shovel struck wood.

The coffin was pristine. No scratches. No signs of struggle. Benji pried it open. Joel's body was gone. In its place lay a mirror.

Benji stared into it and saw himself. He was pale and gaunt with eyes sunken into his head like twin graves. Behind him stood Joel, with a too wide smile stretching across his face. Benji screamed and dropped the mirror. It didn’t shatter. It bled. He ran, but the cemetery had changed. The paths were twisted, and the trees seemed to be closing in around him. Every tomb stone had his name etched onto it. He tripped and fell, face-first into a freshly dug grave. The soil was warm.

Hands erupted from the earth, grasping his limbs. Their rotting, eyeless faces were grinning as they pulled him down.

“I know,” they whispered.

Benji clawed at the edge, but the dirt swallowed him whole.

He woke in his bed with a start, drenched in sweat. Morning light filtered through the blinds. Relief flooded him... until he saw the mud on his sheets. He glanced over and saw the mirror on his dresser. Benji leapt up, dirt fell from his legs and crumbled into the carpet. He slipped on his shoes and ran towards the front door. He tried to leave town, but every road looped back. Every sign pointed to the cemetery. Every TV played static that whispered the same phrase.

Benji stopped sleeping. He stopped eating. His reflection grew stranger. Sometimes it moved when he didn’t. He tried smashing the mirror. It screamed. By the next morning, he found a new one on his dresser. Benji understood, finally.

The dead know only one thing.

They know you.

They know your guilt. Your secrets. Your fears. They know the shape of your soul, the cracks in your mind. They know how to wear your skin, how to whisper your name until you forget it was ever yours.

Benji doesn’t leave his house anymore. He talks to the mirror. Sometimes, it talks back. He's not alone anymore.

Not really.

This is my entry for L.C. Schäfer's unofficial challenge which you can read about here:

Scary things are one million percent my vibe, so I will be reading all of the entries! Good luck to all who enter and thank you L.C. for this prompt!