Bridge of Whispers

“The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own,” Danny said to himself as he walked back to his car. It was only for a moment, but a moment was enough. The cracked tile and bloody towels were a juxtaposition of the bathroom in which he found himself. He had jumped back in appalled surprise when he glanced up to see a man, a horrific doppelganger, looking back at him. He was dressed in bloody and torn overalls, saliva gleaming in the corners of his mouth. Danny took it all in with a gasp. But before he could compose himself, the reflection had changed back to the sparkling clean tile and neatly folded towels of the employee bathroom. He could not stop thinking about what he had seen. The image of his doppelganger, grotesque and gleeful, kept bursting to the forefront of his mind.

Danny was halfway back to his car when the feeling one gets when they are being watched overcame him. He tried to ignore the feeling but every so often he would stop and look around. He could hear noises but could not account for where they were coming from. A distant scream cut short by fits of laughter, a horde of thunderous footsteps echoing through the trees, and then silence. Danny stopped and stood completely still, suddenly immobilized with fear.

He was standing at the end of a bridge, looking across. It was dark and foggy, and the other side was totally obscured from his eyes. The bridge in question was old, made of metal, and built in the early 1900s. Spanning the river and the series of waterfalls below the dam that created the falls, the bridge sat in the middle of the crown jewel park of the city, Riverfront. Open only to pedestrian traffic, the bridge itself needed much renovation. The railings on the sides were too low and were long ago sectioned off by a barrier to prevent any unlucky soul from accidentally falling into the river below. This did nothing to prevent the occasional suicide. Small pieces of the paved surface were breaking apart and, in some areas, one could look down as they walked and catch glimpses of the river flowing below. Danny did not want to cross the bridge; it was not because he thought the bridge would collapse or anything like that, in fact, the bridge was perfectly safe. But he knew in the depths of his soul that he did not want to cross this bridge. If he were asked, Danny would not be able to give an answer as to why this was so, he had done it dozens of times before, but now it seemed like he was on the precipice of something great and unknown. Maybe even dangerous. He thought of the mirror and shivered, what if whatever was in the mirror was waiting for him on the other side of the bridge?

The roar of water coming from the falls came to his ears as a whisper. The water was calling to him, telling him to come over the barrier, to jump and to embrace his new home in the icy, frothing cauldron below. The wind caressed the trees, and a new whisper came to his ears. The trees were telling him to turn around now before it was too late. Before he was lost to the unknown. Whether he believed the trees were whispering to him or not, he wanted to listen. But that would be foolish. He would have to turn around and walk for ten minutes back through the park to the corner of Falls Blvd and Monroe. But the bright and heavily trafficked Monroe Street bridge sounded much preferable to what was in front of him. Once he was across it was only a block up and two blocks over to the parking lot where his car was parked. All in all, not too long of a trip. Or he could just cross this fucking bridge. Once that was done it was a quick trip across the next bridge, this one made of concrete, and he would arrive at the same parking lot in five minutes. Just five minutes and he could be on his way home to enjoy a joint, a good movie, and a pint of ice cream.

Danny thought about it and had decided that this whole thing was indeed just a bunch of bullshit, utter malarkey, what could really be on the other side? Seriously. Nothing. That is what. It was almost Halloween and he had been celebrating the holiday in his favorite way, by getting high and watching scary movies. That fact, coupled with the holiday activity of scaring the shit out of each other at work, would of course put most people a little on edge. He was sure that was it, what else could it be?

“But that way lays ruin,” Danny said to himself. He shook his head in frustration. "Bullshit", he said under his breath, as if he had not meant for himself to hear. And then he shivered. After another minute, Danny thought he was going to do it and with sudden courage and resolve he took a step forward. But he did not take a step forward. He meant to take a step forward, he wanted to take a step forward more than anything, but he did not. He knew that with just one step, the next would come easier, and that was the key. But Danny did not move. "Dammit", he grunted with repressed rage. At this point, Danny guessed that he had been standing in the exact same spot for ten, maybe fifteen minutes, and he had not taken one step forward or back. Was that a victory or just stupidity?

Indecision gripped him, an irrational fear fought to burst out, to be heard. But above all, he felt embarrassed. Even though there was no one else around to witness this crazy guy standing in the same spot for last fifteen minutes. Now that he thought about it, it was odd not to see anyone else around. Danny had not met a single person since entering the park. Odd. It was only 11pm and on a Friday and he was downtown. There should be plenty of revelers enjoying the cool night air with a walk in the park. Danny listened hard, and yes; he could hear people in the distance. Their voices sounded joyous to his ears and with a wild hope he waited for them to appear from around the corner and come towards him. Together, they would cross the bridge and he would see that yes, it was all in his head, just his imagination running wild and playing tricks on him. But their voices soon faded, and all was quiet, except for the sound of the water rushing below.

Danny was now starting to seriously regret not going back and taking the long way around. He should have been back in his car by now with all of this behind him. Instead, the dark endless tunnel of fog still awaited him. Whatever was on the other side, waiting in the dark, it wanted him. He could feel the unknown shadows trying to grasp his arms and pull him forward. Like the deepest depths of the ocean calling to a sailor dying of thirst.

“Come here, it will all be better soon, just come to us.”

Danny took out a pack of cigarettes, slipped one out and lit it. He took a long drag and inhaled deeply, letting out his breath slowly, trying to prolong the moment of decision. He smoked, and as he smoked, he thought about what to do, and why this was happening to him. Danny had never put much stock in things he could not see or that could not be explained logically and scientifically. This put Danny at a crossroads. If he were to bow to this unseen and unexplainable terror that has gripped him, he may very well start to question the world around him, and more. The very things that he knew to be unequivocally true, he would start to doubt, and doubt was just the beginning. This thought, perhaps more than the thought of crossing the bridge, almost spurred Danny into action. But just then, Danny felt an acute pain coming from his fingers. He looked down and saw that the glowing tip of the cigarette had burnt down to meet his fingers. The cigarette helped him feel a little calmer so he decided he could do with another. However, after four cigarettes and as many attempts at running away in the opposite direction, his situation had not improved. He was now out of cigarettes and the terror started to return.

He told himself to turn around and run, run as fast as he could and to not look back at that fucking bridge. Go the long the way around and damn the time, damn this bridge and damn standing here like a child who is lost and scared. He would go home and laugh about this, and later he would tell his friends and they would laugh as well. They would make jokes and he would be happy, let someone else cross the bridge, it was no concern of his. The bridge and the terror it filled him with, would be left behind.

This bridge was like a malignant deity haunting his soul. He was about to turn and run when he heard the whispers again. Not from the roiling water of the falls, nor from the wind or the trees, but whispers coming from the other side of the bridge, and they were inviting him over. The whispers were telling him to walk across, everything would be okay, it is so simple, how could he not see it? He should not take the long way around. Because, if he did, he would miss out on what was on the other side of the bridge. It was waiting for him and whatever it was, it would be wonderful. And with the certainty that he was doing exactly what he was meant to do, Danny took a step forward and crossed the bridge.