Short Story

An Image Of A Reflection – Short Story

His heart pounds relentlessly in his chest as he pushes himself forward, taking each new step with a grander stride until he is jumping, leaping forward with boundless energy. He looks over his shoulder with a panicked glance as the nothingness of nowhere swallows everything behind him. He turns his attention back to what is before him, catching sight of the gigantic form that stands some feet away. He tries in vain to bring himself to a sudden stop but finds it a pointless exercise, and goes crashing into its wet smelly flesh.

He sits up in bed with a jolt, sweat pouring off him. He looks around the empty room in a panic, only to be dragged back to reality by something gripping his arm. He jumps and casts his eyes down to his left, meeting her confused glance with his petrified.

“H-Honey, are you okay?” she asks as she forces herself up into a sitting position and runs a hand through his drenched hair. “My god, you’re soaking wet. What the hells going on Marty?” She asks.

“N-N-Nothing, it was j-j-just a dream. G-Go back to sleep honey,” he says as he kisses her nervously on the forehead and throws his legs over the side of the bed.

“Where are you going? It’s three in the morning.”

“The toilet, and then a change of PJs,” he says as he stands and staggers out into the hallway, the lights flicker violently exploding seconds later in a shower of glass and flames. He can make out Abby’s still form a few feet away, and standing over her as he knew it would be is a massive hulking shape, looking towards him with deep black pools for eyes.

“Stop running and finish my story,” It hisses.

“FINISH IT YOURSELF !” Marty screams as it suddenly moves forward, appearing and disappearing like a poorly animated cartoon until it’s standing just a few centimetres from him. Marty feels the urine run down his leg. It’s warmth spreads quickly across his groin, followed by a coldness that threatens to freeze him in place.

The beast leans forward and its hot putrid breath wafts into his face causing his eyes to sting, then it speaks. “WE ARE the Roundhead, and YOU cannot run from YOURSELF!”

One reply on “An Image Of A Reflection – Short Story”

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