Smoke and Mirrors

          I live at the edge of town in a quaint little house that is probably bigger than a single person would ever need. I hardly ever leave the house, I never need to. All my work can be done on my laptop from my couch and I can order whatever else I need to from online be it food, clothes, or anything really. So maybe I’m a bit reclusive but who is there to judge me for it? Well, maybe my ferret Merlin… and the little dead girl Cathy.

          Cathy is a sweetheart. She makes me breakfast every morning even though I insist she doesn’t need to. She doesn’t talk to me even though I know she can. She uses gestures to communicate, despite the many writing utensils lying all over the place. When she first showed herself to me I was startled, I’ll admit. After all who would expect to see an adorable little girl with pure coal black eyes and a blood stained black and white summer dress.

          She laughed hard enough to accidentally knock the stacks of books off my coffee table. I’ve never lived the moment down since. Speaking, or well thinking, of the little devil she floats into my room and throws open my curtains, flooding my small room with light. I groan and cover my face with my blanket, blinded by the sudden light.

          “Why?” I croak, attempting to cocoon myself into my blankets. A soft childlike laughter echoes around the room as she successfully tugs the blankets off me, letting the cold air hit my body. Merlin jumps on my side as I try and curl into a ball to preserve heat, chittering at me to get up. With a sigh I pick him up and get out of my warm and comfy bed. As I go to walk down the stairs to the kitchen, where I know a warm breakfast is waiting for me, something in the mirror catches my eye. I look back at the mirror but nothing like the black crack like lines I seen are to be found.

          I squint at it suspiciously before shaking my head, probably just my imagination. I snort quietly to myself, as if anything could ever just be my imagination. I’ll double check the mirror later; I would really hate it if something tried to haunt me…again. Cathy doesn’t haunt, no she is a distinguished guest in my home and a very welcome one at that.

          The house is cold; it’s always cold no matter how high I turn the heater on. I never understood it, my heaters all work fine but I guess that’s just the side effect of having a ghost (at least I think she’s a ghost) staying with me. I sit down at the counter, tugging the oversized sweatshirt I left there last night over my head. A plate of eggs, bacon, and biscuits and gravy is set before me.

          “Thanks sweetie,” I say sleepily with a small yawn. She smiles up at me cutely, her little blonde pigtails brushing her chin and shakes her head as if to say “No problem”. She then disappears to wherever it is she goes after she makes me breakfast.

          I eat in pleasant silence, Merlin snug in my hood snoring softly. For as long as I’ve had him, I’ve never once seen him eat. Maybe my friend was right when she gave him to me. Maybe Merlin is some sort of special creature that only looks like a ferret. I chuckle softly, it wouldn’t matter anyway. Merlin is one of my longest friends and the sole living companion in my household. Cathy doesn’t count as living. After all, how can something, or someone, dead be alive?

          As I lift my fork to take a bite out of the last warm delicious gravy covered biscuit, glass shatters in front of me. A jagged rock is sailing towards my face when Cathy appears in a rage, knocking the rock back at whichever kid or teen threw it. A sickening crunch followed by a howl of pain soon follows. Objects start to lightly shake and a few start to levitate in the little girl’s anger. With a heavy sigh I pluck the single shard of glass out of my biscuit and toss it to the trash as I call out to Cathy.

          “Sweetie, it’s okay now. Thank you for the help.” I tell her, catching her attention. She turns around to face me, still angry but less than before. I give her a soft calming smile and she relaxes. Quickly she looks me over to make sure I have no injuries and gives a nod of satisfaction when she finds none. In a matter of moments the glass shards are all thrown in the trash and a cover is put over the broken window. What a way to start my day.

          With that thought in mind I get up and go to finish getting ready for the day. Only, as I walk back up the stairs after cleaning my dishes I notice the mirror again. This time though, the black webbing of cracks is on full display. The silvery glass seems to shimmer and warp slightly, like something behind the mirror is made of silver smoke.

          “Cathy?” I call over my shoulder to the dead girl downstairs. Maybe this is some sort of after effect of her rage? I don’t know but I do know that the feeling emitting from this thing is…. terrifying. The shimmering silvery smoke like substance starts to ooze from the obsidian colored cracks in the mirror. Then it all happened in an instant and yet…in slow motion.

          Cathy appeared, wide eyed with horror. As she reached out to grab me, arms burst out of the mirror now turned to some demonic portal…I think. The arms are a deathly greyish-black color with skin peeling off and stark white maggots falling from the patches of decayed flesh. The arms latched onto my sweatshirt and arms, dragging me into the mirror now turned portal. Cathy lets out an inhuman shriek as she tried to grab me one last time.

          A rotting hand covers my face, keeping me from seeing and smelling anything other than death and decay. I feel a maggot fall into my mouth as I try to scream, writhing around trying to escape the hold of these horrific hands. Immediately I start to choke and spit it out. With desperation thrumming through my veins I reach out with one hand towards Cathy, feeling the tips of her ghostly poltergeist like presence brush past mine as I’m dragged into the mirror. My eyes burn the intensity of the smell and the terror of this unexpected situation.

          I can feel the arms, no the beings now, half carrying and half dragging me through wherever we are now. It’s cold, so cold. It’s like being trapped in a freezer with nothing to sit upon but ice. I struggle against my captors but no matter what I just can’t seem to get free. I get a glimpse of what’s around me when I try and claw the rotting hand off my face. It’s nothing but whirling smoke and shadowy figures with blood red eyes and pristine white fangs barring down around me.

          Tears stream down my face, whether they are from the fear, the smell, or the fact I can hardly breathe, I don’t know. It feels like an eternity has passed, my limbs feel heavy and no matter how hard I try…I just can’t fight against these… these things anymore.  Just moments after I stop moving from exhaustion, eyes falling close and my breathing thins, I’m thrown onto the ground harshly.

          I heave in air, gasping and sputtering because I can finally breathe again. The smell is…intense. It’s no longer just death and decay; it’s the smell of blood and burnt flesh, of pain and despair. I look up as something slams shut, echoing around me endlessly. Bars meet my gaze as I very pointedly avoid looking anywhere close to my captors. I don’t want to see more of their dark decaying faces with their sickening grins.

          They start to cackle and giggle in the way only demons and tortured souls can. I back away from the bars and look wildly around me, something shifting in my hood. Merlin. The name of my ever faithful ferret flickers in my mind. He was nestled in my hood, he never left. My eyes catch something that shakes me out of my train of thought. In the far side of the cell directly across from the bars is a body.

          It once must have been a living person but now…it’s something out of a nightmare. Its body is burned black and there are several places that look like they were clawed open, exposing the half melted organs within. Their eyes were wide open, rolled so far back into their head, all you could see were the whites. The flesh had clearly started rotting, the smell permeating the air along with the smell of fried skin. It is nauseating. I can see the pale maggot feasting upon the decaying flesh, the flies buzzing around the dried blood, and exposed bones that are stained red with blood and black with ash.

I lift a hand to my mouth in horror, suppressing both urges to scream and vomit. This entire place smells like death in a burnt sewer.

          The eyes snap forward and focus on me.

          I let loose a scream to reach the heights of heaven…and the depths of hell.