“Zane, you are dead.” The man told me in the same odd and creepy way that he had spoke before, with his mouth open but nothing moving. My eyes went wide. It was impossible. How could I be dead. I just didn’t understand. Then an image, that he must of put in there, came to me. It was a fight with my father. He hit my mother again and I hated it. To get him to stop I attacked him. The attack ended badly though and he drew a knife and killed me then my mom came up behind my father. In her hand was my father’s handgun that he kept in his dresser drawer. When my father turned to face her she sent a bullet straight through his head.
When the vision was over I stood dumbfounded for a moment. I couldn’t understand how this was possible. “Why? Why did you bring me here? Why am I not out in the forest with the rest of them?” I asked him and he smiled. Which was unnerving seeing as his pointed dripping teeth showed all to well.
“You, young man are here to join me.” He told me then put one hand on my shoulder. His nails were long, pointed, and black. When his hand rested on me for a while I could feel a tingling starting at the top of my head and ending at the tips of my toes. I didn’t fight it though. I had no idea how or why I would. I was dead after all. When the tingling stopped a burning feeling arose and I was frozen, I couldn’t move. My teeth clenched and my eyes watered, all I could do was stand there and bare the inferno of pain.
I stood there for what seemed like hours. When he was done a wall of what looked like a huge mirror stood in front of me. There I could see a man, not the creepy red man who took me here but a different one. This one had long tangled black hair. His eyes were as red as crimson. His nails were short but still black and pointed. I wanted to see if his teeth pointed as well. Oddly enough when I opened my mouth his did too. When his mouth opened sharp jagged teeth appeared. I moved my hand up to touch my own mouth and he moved his hand too. Then, I realized that scary man in the mirror was me. I knew it deep down from the moment I saw it, but I didn’t want to believe it. Now there was no denying. I was this monster in the mirror. I looked down at myself. I was wearing the same black, old time Victorian Gothic suit that the man in the mirror was. Fear and shock should have been showing in my eyes but instead in those red eyes of my reflection there was nothing. I looked perfectly calm and unaffected by anything even though I was as scared as a young child.
What have I become?
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