The Reflections In The Mirror.

My breathing was heavy, and sweat dripped down my body. I gasped, still holding the blood-covered knife in my hands. Sobbing, I fell to my knees. I started gasping for breath.

"It wasn't me, it wasn't me, it wasn't me!" I screamed.

I filled the sink with hot soapy water, and ignoring my blooded hands, I tried to scrub the blood off the knife.

"Fuck, what did I do!" I screamed, still gasping for breath between sobs.

I had no idea what to do with the body in front of me. Hollow sockets stared up at me, and its mouth was open wide, as blood pooled out of it covering the entire living room floor.

I couldn't breathe, or stand up; I reached for the couch next to me, but I fell landing in the blood bath next to me.

"Somebody help me, please!" I cried, but nobody came.

The lights went out into the room, and the mirror on the wall in front of me glowed. The appearance of a woman with hollow sockets where her eyes should have been screamed at me through a blackened mouth. Her teeth were blood-stained.

"You will pay!" she cried.

Black widow spiders started crawling down the wall, and the body started to rise. I crawled using my back for support, as I attempted to reach the open door from where I could see a dimly lit light. The door slammed shut, and everything went black.

The spiders were hissing around me, horribly. I felt crawling all over my body and my face.

I lay very still. I was afraid they were going to kill me.

The living room light suddenly turned itself back on, yet I could still see the body that was now walking towards me.

I screamed loudly, and it disappeared into a wall.

I could feel the walls closing in around me, squeezing every last breath out of my body, then the light suddenly turned off, and everything was quiet again.

The spiders seemed to have disappeared, and I turned the light back on. Shell-shocked and frightened, I trembled as I looked at my hands. There was no blood and no knife. I bolted for the door, but as I did it closed again, and the light turned off.

The horribly disfigured face in the mirror reappeared, and screamed,

"You don't think you are leaving do you? You will pay for what you have done!"

I fell back to the floor where the blood trickled, and I was holding a knife in my hands again. The same body was lying beside me. I was unable to contain myself as lightning shook the room, and the spiders crawled all over me once more.

In 1972, I killed an innocent man while dating him. I committed a string of date murders back then, but I paid the price. The justice system set me free in 2023, although I didn't deserve it. I went on another murder spree, but this time I murdered women. The adrenaline from what I did gave me a big rush back then, and seeing blood on my hands gave me a power that I didn't get from normal life.

I admit that I enjoyed every minute, I lived for the thrill of what I did. blood to me, was like red wine. I licked my fingers as I killed those people; every drop tasted sweet, like poisoned sugar from a bad apple, and it flowed through my veins, filling me with a power that no drug or alcohol could ever give me.

The horrible, distorted face in the mirror suddenly disappeared, but it didn't stop there. Suddenly, a different reflection appeared.

That was a reflection showing me the man I murdered today in the park.

I had pinned him to the grassy field where the black roses grow and I stabbed him 24 times with the very knife that appeared in my hands.

I felt no remorse for what I had done, and I still don't.

My own reflection jumped out of the mirror. My second self had a knife in her hands.

I could not scream or run.

She suddenly jumped on top of me, and with one loud glorious laugh.

She stuck the knife in my chest.

My entire horrible life flashed before my eyes, as everything went black.

Justice had finally been served, my own reflection which was the opposite of myself had finally murdered me.

I was as evil as my shadow; the horrible reflection of my own self, and I finally got what I deserved.

I paid with my own life, for every murder that I had committed.