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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1881858
What's it like to watch yourself die?
Six Seeds of Sleep



Author's Note: It's been a very long time since I've posted anything, and I guess I wanted to see how much I've improved since my last story. Anyway, this is sort of a love letter to horror films and an homage to many different ones. This was written for fun, so some of you might find this story to be quite derivative, as I didn't originally intend for anyone to see it. (However, if you're up to it, see if you can guess all the horror films it takes inspiration from). Also, a couple of the quotes are not mine. They belong to their respective owners.





        Felicia Seren was a housewife, and a good one at that. She dutifully tended to her husband, Chase, cared for her son, Mason, and kept a clean house. She knew how to make cakes and casseroles, could tell the difference between Febreeze and knockoff brands by smell, kept a schedule of the family activities, and knew which stores carried the best merchandise at the best prices. Buoyed by her husband’s salary, she painstakingly made sure to keep up her looks. She attended the nail salon and beauty parlor religiously, making sure that facials, massages, manicures, and pedicures remained top priorities. The home gym was in constant use and the bathroom cabinet was always stocked with an array of various moisturizers, lotions, creams, and other formulas for one’s skin and hair.

         However, her domestic perfection seemed to be more for keeping up appearances than for her husband or family. While Felicia did quite genuinely love them, the envious stares of the other upper-class wives inflated her ego, satiating her hunger for attention. If one didn’t get noticed in life, then what was the point of living? She loved the other women asking her how her wavy, brunette hair contained such luster; what eye shadow she used to bring out the azure of her eyes; and how she maintained her fabulous figure. She would give various tips, but never reveal too much, oh no; if the others found out how to look as good as her she wouldn’t be the center of attention anymore.

      This lifestyle led her to having few close friends but Felicia couldn’t have cared less. One didn’t have to be close to host dinner parties or attend fancy social functions. For Felicia, life was all about glamor and prestige, and to her, the life of a domestic trophy wife suited that perfectly fine.

         A warm March morning started out like any other. Felicia got up, showered, dressed and put on her make-up. Walking into the kitchen, she greeted her husband with a kiss on the lips and gently tousled Mason’s hair as he lazily stirred his cereal with a spoon. After pouring herself a cup of coffee, she calmly sipped the hot beverage and gazed around.

         A knock on the front door broke the slight catatonic state of the room “I’ll get it,” Felicia offered and hurried as fast as her three-inch heels would allow. Opening up the door, she stood face to face with Julia, the Serens’ nanny. She always came over whenever Chase went on business trips, which was quite frequently. Today, he would be heading for Paris shortly.

         “Hi, Mrs. Seren. You look lovely today,” the dark-haired girl chirped and walked inside. Felicia thanked her, closed the door and headed back into the kitchen, Julia close behind. Mason smiled happily as Julia entered the room and ran up to her. She laughed and scooped him up, kissing him sloppily on the cheek.

         The phone rang and Felicia walked over to get it. “Hello, Seren residence.”

         “The red roses were once white,” came a low, clear voice from the receiver.

         Felicia sighed, rolled her eyes, and stated, “Don’t you have anything better to do?” She ended the call and placed the phone back in its cradle.

        The high notes of the phone’s ring sounded again. Felicia grabbed it again, but before she could relay her greeting, the voice snarled, “The conversation wasn’t over!”

        “Well, now it is,” she retorted and slammed the phone back down.

        Felicia turned around to face her worried family. “I thought he had stopped,” Chase said, his face pensive.

        “He did. For two weeks. Guess he decided to continue his hobby.”

        She could have continued but the phone rang again. “Just ignore it,” Julia suggested, setting Mason down on the ground and walking over to Felicia, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t feed the fire.”

        Felicia ignored her, picked up the phone and shouted, “Listen asshole!”

        “Excuse me, ma’am. I just wanted to let Mr. Seren know that I’m outside, ready to take him to the airport.”

        Felicia felt her face flush and managed to stutter out an apology. She hung up and turned to Chase. “Tom is outside.”

        Chase walked over and kissed her. “I’ll call everyday sweetheart. Love you.” He hugged Mason and said, “Hold down the fort while I’m gone, ok buddy?” Mason nodded and waving goodbye to Julia, Chase Seren carried his suitcases out the door and away from his family.

*****


        Julia helped Felicia with the chores after Chase left and after lunch, they decided to take Mason to the park. The two women sat on a bench to converse and keep an eye on Mason, who was currently playing with other children on the playground.

        After a few minutes of small talk, Julia asked, “So, what’s up with the person that keeps calling you?”

        “I don’t know. Random stalker, I guess.”

        “That’s so weird,” Julia frowned and furrowed her brow, “I mean, it’s just so out of the blue that this guy would just pick you and decide to start calling you obsessively.”

        “Well…it’s not just phone calls. Sometimes there are videotapes.”

        Julia’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of videos. “Oh God, I hope there’s nothing…you know…pornographic…”

        Felicia laughed and shook her head. “No, everything is just very weird and artsy. In the calls, he only says a single phrase that sounds like it comes from a poem. The video tapes are also just all these strange images put together in an artistic way, sometimes with a phrase or word in them. Part of me thinks it’s a film student. They would know how to do all the symbolic stuff and camera techniques.”

        Julia nodded, looking lost in thought. “Yeah, film students are pretty weird. That still doesn’t answer my question as to why the guy picked you.”

        Felicia fidgeted for a moment. “Well…I mean, it’s kind of embarrassing…”

        Julia grinned and jokingly said, “Come on! Everybody’s done stuff they weren’t proud of. What taints the past of Mrs. Felicia Seren?”

        Felicia sighed. “I…used to be an actress…before I met Chase and everything.”

        “Ooh, I didn’t know that. What were you in? Maybe I’ve seen it.”

        Felicia scoffed. “A couple of stupid movies. I wasn’t very good. Only wanted to get into the business to become a star. After realizing I wasn’t going to get anywhere, I left, met Chase and got married.”

      “But what were you in? I really want to know. And who knows, maybe you were selling yourself short. I could see you as an actress. Heck, you got the looks.”

      “Maybe, but I wasn’t as talented as I was pretty. The only things I ever did were a couple entries in a horror movie series. They were pretty cheesy. I made money, but they killed my character off in the second one. Then I couldn’t find work anywhere else but stupid B-movies. You don’t become famous doing B-movies.”

      “And the movies were?”

      Felicia scowled and looked away from her conversational partner. “The Night of Horror series, ok? I was in the first two. I played the girl that manages to defeat the villain and then goes back to the haunted house and dies in the second one.”

      Julia grinned so wide Felicia thought her face would crack. “I’ve seen those! So you were Kora Sherry, huh? The one that managed to defeat Orcus at the very end of the first one. Man, that was awesome. When Tim dies and there’s all that blood and you go nuts and just start wrecking the house. Wow, that’s so cool. You know, those movies have a cult following. I don’t think you did too badly. In fact, I’m kind of surprised you haven’t had a stalker before.”

      Felicia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I was awesome; screaming while being covered in corn syrup. It was stupid.”

      “Do you ever watch your movies? I think it would be pretty freaky to see yourself in a horror movie.”

      “No. How many times do I have to say they were stupid? And besides, it’s just watching you make a fool out of yourself. The blood is obviously fake and the kills are very obviously staged. The movies weren’t realistic whatsoever. And I was an awful actress.”

      “Well, that’s not what I meant. I mean…I just think it would be so creepy to watch yourself get murdered. Like, what would it be like to watch yourself die?”

      Felicia shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t watch ‘em, don’t want to. Come on, we should probably get Mason on home. It’s starting to get dark.”

*****


      After eating dinner, Julia helped Felicia with the dishes and then left for the night. Felicia was quickly straightening out the living room, preparing to go get ready for bed, when the phone rang. She answered with her customary greeting and was returned with the dark voice eerily whispering in a sing-song tone, “A flower-like body fashioned all of light/Balanced on the sheer knife-edge of perfection/All is hushed; gone in a sigh, that perfection/Leaving the sharp knife-edge turning slowly in the breast.”

         Felicity growled out an obscenity and ended the call. Truthfully, she wasn’t as annoyed with the stalker as she appeared. The thought that someone had admired her enough to spend time sending strange messages flattered her in an odd way. It was attention; what was not to love? Besides, the person just sent her things. They weren’t harming anyone. She moved noiselessly into a side hallway, standing in front of a row of cupboards. She opened one of them and surveyed every tape her admirer had ever sent her. They were in chronological order, and each one had a label attached to it, names that held no meaning to Felicia: Impurity, Wish, Attention, Tease, Clandestine, Habit, Yearning, Obdurate, Ubiquity, and Damage. She surveyed them, and then closed the cupboard and walked to her bedroom.

         After putting on her nightgown and washing her face, she opened up the bathroom cabinet to find Chase had forgotten his sleeping medication. Due to stress, he’d been experiencing insomnia recently and the doctor had told him to take one a night. Felicia sighed, and using her list of contacts, called the hotel in Paris where Chase would be staying at to let him know.

         She walked back into her bedroom, put her slippers on and glanced out the window. For a moment she thought she saw a white face, but the next it was gone. She ignored it, assuring herself it was just a stray moonbeam reflected against the glass.

         Mason was already under the covers when Felicia entered the room. Sitting down at the foot of the bed, she read him Peter Pan, and then kissed him goodnight. “Mommy, I don’t want you to leave,” Mason mumbled as Felicia was about to get up.

         “Oh. Now why is that?”

         “There’s a monster that lives in my room.”

         Felicia smiled and squeezed his hand assuredly. “There’s no monster. See?” She searched around the room for a couple of minutes and upon finding nothing, faced him and grinned.

         “It’s different when you’re not here,” Mason whispered while hugging his teddy bear, Buster.

         “Well, what does this monster look like?”

         “I don’t know. I just see him creeping around the room. He comes out of the shadows. He wants to get out but he can’t. I always hold my breath, hoping he won’t see me.”

         Felicia sat down on the bed again and gave him a comforting look. “Mason, if you see this shadow man again, just remind yourself that he’s not real. Close your eyes and count to five and when you open them, you’ll realize it was all just a trick your mind was playing on you. Ok?”

         Mason nodded.

         Felicia squeezed his hand again and murmured, “Besides, I wouldn’t let anybody get you.” Felicia got up and started for the door.

         “But mommy! He’s not after me. He’s after you.”

         Felicia turned around and gave him a quizzical look. She wasn’t sure what to think of that. So instead she said good night and exited, entered her own bedroom, plopped herself into bed and went to sleep.

*****


        Felicia was awoken by the sounds of sobbing. A terrified Mason ran into her room, leapt onto her bed, and burrowed his head into her chest. After a couple minutes of stroking his back and murmuring soothing words, she managed to get a vague idea of what spooked him so.

         “He was there again mommy!” He shook as he spoke, obviously scared out of his wits. “He was there. I saw him moving around in the shadows. I did what you told me to. I closed my eyes and counted to five. And then…and then…” He sobbed harder and rested his head against her shoulder.

         “Then what happened sweetie,” Felicia whispered soothingly.

         Taking his head out of her shoulder and looking her straight in the eye, Mason breathed, “And then I opened my eyes and there were two big, black shiny ones staring right back at me.” He shuddered and then sobbed, “I was so scared. The shadow man moved away for a moment and I just ran. I closed the door so he couldn’t get out and came in here, but I forgot Buster! He’s still in there with him!”

         “Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll go get Buster right now,” she said still stroking his hair.

         Mason shook his head vigorously. “No. You can’t go now. The shadow man’s still in there. We’ll have to wait until morning. I never see him during the day.”

         After assuring him that there was no shadow man, Felicia allowed Mason to sleep in her bed. The poor little boy was still shaken up from his encounter and still upset about abandoning Buster, but finally managed to fall asleep. Once Felicia was sure he was out, she silently got up and crept towards Mason’s room. If she got Buster and gave him back to Mason before he woke, she knew he would be thrilled despite his initial concerns about her going. She opened the door and stepped into her son’s room. The night light barely illuminated everything, casting odd shadows everywhere. She immediately understood why Mason might get scared. She crossed the room, lifted up the comforter and found Buster. Picking him up, she brushed lint off of his fur and straightened Mason’s pillow.

         “Wanna play a game,” a voice whispered. Felicia gasped and whirled around. Standing across the room was a figure in black with a chalked white face and enormous black eyes. Before she could even scream, it lunged at her.

         Felicia woke up, clutching her pillow. Oh God, she had been dreaming. Mason was curled up beside her, his thumb stuck firmly in his mouth. She smiled, infinitely relieved to realize the specter had only been her imagination. Rousing Mason, she whispered to him, “If you go get dressed, I’ll make breakfast. Then when Julia comes over you can play with her while I go grocery shopping.”

         Mason nodded, got up and padded out of the room. Felicia put on a bath robe and went downstairs, humming as she scrambled some eggs and fried bacon. Mason came down a few minutes later, clutching Buster tightly to his chest.

         “Mommy, were you in my room last night?”

         “Nope. Not me.” Felicia stated while flipping bacon.

         “Oh.” Mason frowned and looked pensive. “Well, I thought I left Buster on my bed. He was on the floor and the door was open.”

         “Maybe your mind’s all fuzzy.”

         “Maybe.” Mason looked unsure but dropped the topic and sat down at the breakfast table. Julia arrived a few minutes later and after eating breakfast, Felicia told her to iron some of her and Chase’s clothes sometime during the day. Felicia then left to go grocery shopping and run other errands.

        After she was finished, it was past one o’clock. She arrived home, greeted Julia, who was busy ironing, and Mason, who was playing with his blocks. As she was unpacking groceries, Julia walked into the kitchen. “While you were gone, this arrived in the mail.” She handed Felicia a large envelope with a rectangular bulge in the center. Felicia opened it and procured a black videotape, this one marked with ‘Inquiry.’

      Julia looked apprehensive, but Felicia laughed it off. “You keep an eye on Mason; I’m going to go watch this.” Julia nodded and left. Felicia walked into her bedroom and popped the tape into the VCR player and turned on the TV. As usual, there were odd assorted images, no sound in the background, and bizarre textures. Then words appeared on the screen, in a messy scrawl almost typical of a child. ‘I See You’, they spelled out. Now there were clips of Felicia walking around the park, running various errands, and doing other outdoor activities from various angles. Felicia felt her heart stop. The stalker had never been this intrusive. There was a final clip of her standing in her bedroom, brushing her hair, as seen through the window. The image went black and the same scrawling handwriting appeared, this time spelling out, ‘Do You See Me?’

      Static filled the screen, but Felicia couldn’t take her eyes away. He knows what I do. He’s watching me. Her chest felt constricted, she couldn’t think. She immediately grabbed the list of contacts for Chase in Paris and called his office. “Hey, babe. What’s up?”  Chase answered cheerily. “If it’s about the pills, I talked to my doctor and-“

      “It’s not about the pills!” Felicia shouted. Chase went silent. Felicia continued, “My stalker sent me another tape. I was watching it and…and…Chase there are clips of me in it! Doing things, running errands, playing with Mason at the park, getting dressed in my goddamn bedroom; Chase, I’m scared.”

      The line was quiet for a couple of moments. Chase slowly spoke, “I’ll take care of everything. I’m gonna call the police station back home; get a couple of officers to patrol and guard the house. You just stay right there. Then I’m going to head home as soon as I can. Everything’s going to be ok. I love you.”

      Felicia thanked him profusely, murmured ‘love you too’ back, and hung up. Still shaking, she walked into the living room, where Julia and Mason were. Julia stopped ironing as soon as she caught sight of Felicia. “Oh my God, what happened?” Felicia wordlessly gestured her to come into the bedroom and showed her the tape. Julia’s brown eyes got wider and wider as it progressed.

      “Chase is going to have police officers guarding the house. He’s also coming home soon,” Felicia explained to her. Julia nodded, now looking shaken as well, and they walked back into the living room. The next few hours were spent tense with only brief seconds of chitchat. The ironing had been forgotten and Mason was confused as to the situation. Officers had arrived at the house, telling Felicia they would form a perimeter and would have a squad car patrolling to make sure the stalker did not make an appearance.

      As evening arrived, Julia offered to stay, but Felicia told her to go home. She had done enough and deserved a break. Just after Julia had exited the house, the phone rang. Felicia picked it up, dreading who it might be. ‘Till death do you part’, the voice toned mockingly. There was a click and the dial tone sounded. Felicia felt shocked. Normally, she hung up on him, not the other way around. And what did that mean? She decided not to think about it.

      She got ready for bed and also tucked Mason in. The boy did not want to sleep in his room at all, but after some coercing from Felicia, telling him that big boys slept in their own bed, he reluctantly did. After leaving the room the phone rang again. Please don’t be him. She picked up the phone apprehensively.

      “Hello, Seren residence.”

      “Yes, is this Mrs. Felicia Seren?” a man with a French accent asked on the other line.

      “Yes, what is it?”

      “This is Sergeant Dupont. I’m calling on behalf of your husband. I don’t know how to say this, ma’am, but…we found him murdered in his hotel room about a half an hour ago.  Right now, there are few details. We aren’t sure of the exact time of death or the weapon. I’m terribly sorry for your loss. After the autopsy, we promise you that the body can be prepared for a funeral back in the States. I’m sorry to have ruined your evening.”

      Felicia couldn’t even cry she was so shocked. She barely mumbled out goodbye and then hung up, staring down at the phone. Till death do you part. No. It couldn’t be. Chase had been in Paris for God’s sake! She moved into her bedroom robotically and got under the covers. Finally, the full realization of the situation hit her. She bawled into Chase’s pillow, breathing in his scent, knowing he would never sleep beside her ever again. And how would she tell Mason? He was so young. It took a while, but she finally managed to cry herself into an uneasy sleep.

*****


      Felicia awoke in a strange mood. The room was still dark and the moon cast odd shapes onto the carpet. Felicia did not care about this however; the only thing going through her mind was that she desperately wanted a drink. Her mouth was parched and her mind was a blank slate; she idly wondered for a moment why it was so obsessed on one thing, but somehow the thought was pushed out. She got up, moving noiselessly into the kitchen, and stood in front of the large, stainless steel fridge. As she was about to open it, she noticed movement in the warped reflective surface. She could see an outline of a white oval containing two dark orbs on top of a black body in the fridge door, probably a couple feet behind her. The drink was forgotten. For some reason, Felicia did not feel fear. An odd calmness was coursing through her, almost dream-like, and she lazily asked the figure, “You’re the one that’s been calling me and sending me tapes, aren’t you.”

         The figure nodded. Felicia asked again, “You killed my husband as well, didn’t you?” Again the figure nodded. No anger sparked at this. Instead, almost an odd amusement arose. She was talking to her husband’s murderer with tranquility, as if they were discussing the weather.

         “I should be angry. I don’t know why I’m not. You’ve been quite bothersome.”

         The figure spoke in the same low voice she always heard on the phone. “A good night’s rest is a magical thing.”

         “But I didn’t have a good night’s rest. Because of you. Your weird obsession keeps me up. Makes me scared. I don’t even understand; why do I matter to you?”

         The figure tilted its head to the side. “What an odd question.”

         “Can you answer it?”

         The figure straightened its head and she felt him whisper in her ear. “All in good time. Now wake up, Kora. Wake up…”

         Felicia felt her eyelids flutter; she could dimly see rays of sunlight cascading into the room and hear an odd, shrill noise screeching throughout the house. What is that awful sound? As she became more awake, she lazily sat up and wondered what Mason was doing. Mason. Oh God. The noise. It was him screaming. She flung herself out of the room and raced through the house, following the sound, screaming Mason’s name over and over again. She found him in the lounge, sitting on the floor, covered in blood and wailing his little lungs out.

         Felicia screamed in horror and raced over to him. “Baby, oh God, baby, who did this to you? Where are you hurt?” The child didn’t stop sobbing and Felicia grabbed his hands, noticing a single long, vertical gash on the palms of each of them. She ripped her nightgown at the hem, and wrapped the fabric around the wounds, trying to staunch the bleeding. Mason was looking at something behind her and finally choked out, “Mommy, he wanted you to see that.”

         “See what?” She managed to gasp out, amidst her own sobs.

         “That.” He gestured with his head. Felicia turned around and screamed again, positive that someone had stabbed her in the gut the feeling was so awful.

         Smeared on the wall in Mason’s blood was, ‘What’s It Like To Watch Yourself Die?

*****


        Mason was rushed to the hospital. None of the officers could get out of him who attacked him besides ‘the shadow man.’ Felicia had a fit screaming at them for letting someone into the house.

         “We were watching the whole night. No one ever got in, we swear!” one defended against her vengeful fury.

         “My son was covered in blood! Obviously, you weren’t doing your job.”

         Felicia stormed away, feeling bad for taking it out on the officers but also wanting to vent on someone. After spending a while calming Julia, who had called once she had heard of the incident, down over the phone, she told her that she was going to a hotel; the house obviously wasn’t safe.

        Felicia packed a suitcase for herself and then went to the general hospital where Mason was located. He was in the ICU, Room 1114, under ‘no publicity’ to make sure there were no visitors to disturb him. The nurses told her that right now he needed a lot of rest, he would only be sleeping, and she should probably do something relaxing for herself; she had been through enough recently. She checked into a nearby Hilton, only 5 minutes away from the hospital. After receiving her key card to her room, No. 209, she dumped her luggage. It was a nice one, the first room resembling that of a living room and the second being a bedroom. Both of them had TVs and VCRs.

         Felicia took the nurses’ advice and headed out to spend a day at the spa, receiving massages and a facial; the perfect thing to calm her down after all the recent horror. She called the hospital while she was there, and they told her that Mason was still sleeping and doing perfectly fine. Feeling relaxed, she left and headed back to the hotel. As she was walking through the lobby, the clerk at the front desk called out, “Ma’am, you’re in Room 209, correct?”

         Feeling tickled that the clerk had such a good memory, she responded, “Yes, that’s me.”

         “There’s a package here for you. A mail courier dropped it off about an hour ago.”

         Felicia felt an icy hand squeeze her heart. “A package? From whom?”

         The clerk shrugged. “Don’t know. There’s no return address.” Just like all the other packages that contained tapes. Felicia moved in slow-motion to the front desk and stiffly accepted the large envelope with the rectangular bulge. It was from him. He knew she had gone to a hotel. What didn’t he know? She walked slowly up to her room and moved inside the bedroom area; closing the door behind her, she opened up the envelope. Felicia pulled out the tape marked ‘Eternal’, and placed it into the VCR.

         Various images like all the other tapes flashed at first, the most striking to Felicia being a girl in a white dress holding a red fruit. Then the images stopped and like the last tape, what looked like an actual recording instead of artistic clips or pictures appeared. It was a POV shot of someone standing in front of the Hilton. The shot moved inside of the hotel, into the lobby, and then turned into the first hallway.

         He’s trying to show me that he’s been here. She nervously clutched her shirt hem. The POV shot moved through the hallway and entered a stairwell, starting to move upwards now. Felicia watched, terrified, as the shot entered the second floor and moved down the hallway. It stopped in front of Room 209 and without seeing the door handle, the television showed the door open and the POV shot step into Felicia Seren’s hotel room.

         Felicia wanted to cry. He was inside of my room. The POV shot paused to look at the surroundings of the first room for a moment and then continued towards the door separating it from the bedroom area. The door opened and showed a bed and a pale, terrified-looking woman who was nervously clutching her shirt hem and standing in front of a television.

         The reality hit Felicia harder than a ton of bricks. He wasn’t in here, he is in here! Her scream of terror was cut off by a hand with unnaturally long fingers clapping itself over her mouth. She kicked fiercely and managed to elbow her assailant in the ribs, forcing him to let go of her. She raced out of the open door and into the living room area and flung the door open. Before tearing into the hallway, she noticed the mirror next to the door showed a figure dressed in black with a white face, two large onyx pools for eyes and a stitched mouth. She did not look back to check if this was correct.

*****


        Felicia raced down the steps and out of the lobby, much to the bewilderment of the clerk. Upon entering the parking lot, she surveyed the rows of cars and finally managed to spot her own. She didn’t know why, but part of her desperately wanted to get to the hospital, make sure that Mason was still doing okay. Felicia opened up the car and sat down in the driver’s seat. She immediately put the car in reverse and started backing out without even looking behind her. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she screamed at the sight of two dark, watery eyes staring at her from the backseat. The sound of a car horn and a man cussing her out made her slam on the brakes. When she looked back up the next moment, the eyes were gone. Felicia sat there, breathing heavily. What was going on? What was wrong with her? How was any of this possible? How could the videotape have been in real-time? She opened up the mirror in the sun visor, feeling sickened at the mess of a woman staring back at her. Swallowing, she started to back out slowly, this time looking.

         It was difficult driving to the hospital. Felicia’s palms were sweaty and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She parked and raced inside, located the ICU and stopped in front of the receptionist’s desk. “My name is Felicia Seren. I am the mother of Mason Seren. He’s in Room 1114, ‘no publicity’. I need to see him now.” She was conscious of the fact that with her disheveled hair and wild eyes she probably looked like a maniac.

         The receptionist typed a few words on her computer, scanned the screen, frowned and looked back up at Felicia. “I’m sorry. But my database doesn’t show that anyone by that name is here. What’s the spelling?”

         About ready to cry, Felicia spelled Mason’s first and last name. The receptionist entered the data again but the answer was still the same. Mason was not there.

         “He has to be here! I know it!” Felicia sobbed, the tears breaking free of their barriers and pouring down her cheeks. “He was checked in this morning, do you hear me? This morning!”

         “Ma’am, I’m going to ask you calm down. You’re upsetting the children here in the waiting room Perhaps he’s been moved to another ward or you went to the wrong hospital. I’m sorry that I can’t help you,” the receptionist answered calmly.

         Felicia slammed her fist on the desk and screamed, “Don’t tell me to calm down! He was checked in here! I know it! Now let me go to Room 1114!”

         The receptionist promptly called for security and two men came and took Felicia to a holding room as she kicked and screamed. After several hours and night falling, Julia arrived, looking panic-stricken. The hospital had called her after Felicia had been detained, as she was the next emergency contact for Felicia after Chase.

         Julia talked to the security guards and nurses and managed to convince the hospital that Felicia was not a threat and could go with her. Julia pulled Felicia along by the hand, towards the exit, while Felicia sobbed. “Julia, they said Mason isn’t here. I don’t know where he is. We have to find him.”

         Julia shushed her and murmured, “Everything’s going to be fine.” She led her to her car and began driving, Felicia staring wide-eyed out the window of the passenger seat the whole way. They pulled in front of the Seren household.

         “I don’t want to be here, Julia. This is where he attacked Mason. Take me somewhere else.”

         Julia rubbed her back soothingly. It’s ok, Kora. Just come inside.” Despite her protests, Felicia followed her into the house.

         Once inside, they headed into the living room and Felicia asked, “When are we going to look for Mason?”

         Julia smiled at her, “Mason doesn’t matter, Kora. There are far more important things.”

         “What do you mean Mason doesn’t matter!? He’s my son for God’s sake!”

         Julia’s smile became more comforting. “Kora, you’re upset. Mason doesn’t exist. Now come with me.” She gently took Felicia’s hand in her own.

         Felicia snatched her hand away. “What do you m-“ She stopped as she realized something that her fogged mind hadn’t picked up earlier. “Why are you calling me that?”

         “Calling you what?”

         “Kora. You keep calling me Kora. That’s not my name.”

         “Yes it is. Now come with me. We have to go.”

         Felicia took a step backwards. “Why did you bring me here, Julia?”

         Julia stopped smiling and gazed at her sadly. “I had to. This was where it all started. Don’t you remember? Orcus told me to bring you back here. Back to the beginning. I’m sorry, Kora. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

         Felicia’s eyes widened at the words. Suddenly she was years younger, looking at the script for Night of Horror 2 and practicing with her partner, who recited the exact same lines that Julia had just spoken. She remembered this scene. It was the climax; how could she have forgotten?

         “Come with me, Kora. We don’t want to keep Orcus waiting,” Julia said while taking Felicia’s hand once more.

         “That’s not my fucking name!” Felicia screamed and grabbed the iron that was still sitting out from a day ago, slamming it into Julia’s head. There was a sickening crack and then Julia collapsed like a marionette whose strings had been cut, a small trickle of blood coming out of her mouth.

         Felicia dropped the iron with a thud, staring at the limp body before her. Oh God, I killed her. Just like in the movie, I killed her. She looked around wildly, her heart now beating a million miles an hour, as she remembered what came next. I have to get out of here. She hurried for the door when the room became awash with light from behind and a woman’s voice sounded.

         Felicia froze in her tracks. She knew that voice. She knew the words. “Oh God, I killed her! I didn’t mean to, I just…I just…” An evil laugh sounded, the same low voice that Felicia had heard so many times before, taunting her from the phone. How did I never realize it before? They have the same voice. She continued to stand still, transfixed by the sounds coming from the TV behind her.

         “So, you’re back. It’s all coming together now.”

         “Get away from me!” Felicia cringed at the sob. She never thought she had been a good actress, but at the moment it was the most realistic performance she had ever heard. The evil laughter continued, and Felicia knew exactly what was happening on the screen; there was no reason to turn around. A pathetic sob from a girl sounded and then the sound of a knife piercing flesh. The transition from terror to agony made Felicia dig her nails into her palms; biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut, tears escaped from the lids.

         “Someone help me! Oh God, please help me!” She could picture the whole thing. The girl bleeding from a stab wound, dragging herself along the floor, the dark figure a couple steps behind, taunting her, mocking her.

         Felicia covered her ears with her hands, but she couldn’t block out the noise. “Please don’t do this. I’ll do anything! Just let me go!” The terrified whimpers, the fresh screams of pain coinciding with the noises of more stabbing. Tears rolled silently down Felicia’s cheeks. Make it stop.

         The screams continued, the laughter sounded more insane, everything was coming to a crescendo, too loud, too real to drown out. Felicia screamed, uniting her voice with her counterpart on the TV, screamed louder than she ever had in her life, while in her mind’s eye she watched the final stab, her character stop moving, chest ceasing to rise and fall.

         The room was silent, save for the hysterical sobs of Felicia. She had wrapped her arms around her torso, tears dripping from her cheeks onto the floor. Too much, too much. It had all been too much. She finally opened her eyes and was not surprised in the least when the surroundings that greeted her were not her own house but the one from the Night of Horror series. The ornate, albeit dilapidated, furniture and decoration, the inch-thick layer of dust covering everything. She was no longer in shorts and a shirt; now she donned the sundress from the movie. But hadn’t that dress been white? This one was red.

         Felicia moved purposelessly throughout the rooms of the dark house. No reason to hurry, no reason to run. Odd shadows made her on edge, but nothing jumped out at her. She entered the study and picked up the nearest book on the table, entitled Death on Proserpina. She opened up to a random page and read, ‘For we are Death or fearsome Dis/We plunge souls in fires hot/And eliminate mortal bliss/Forgive our fatal lot.’ A dark chuckle sounded and Felicia looked up in terror at the figure, holding a gleaming knife, with a ghost white face containing the two hideous pools of darkness for eyes and that awful maniacal stitched smile which wouldn’t stop smiling at her goddammit! She screamed and hurled the book at the figure and as it connected, the mirror shattered, spilling hundreds of fragments onto the floor in front of her like a reflective waterfall.

         Felicia could only stare at the slivers of silver at her feet, reflecting her face back at her from every conceivable angle, broken, distorted, but with the same pale face and dark eyes. Why was she fighting it anymore? It was inevitable. Always had been. Only the sight of their fractured facets made her realize the fruition of her fate. She wasn’t Felicia anymore; her existence was to be Kora, and to be with him.

         She moved as if in a dream towards the kitchen, perfectly aware of the shadow following her; she could only see it out of the corner of her eye, only a flash, yet ever present. She opened up the filthy, off-white refrigerator door. The only contents were a container of blood-red pomegranate juice. Perfect. After taking the container, she headed towards the bedroom. The room was the same as the one in her own home, except for the decrepit status of everything, creating a strange hybrid. The comforter was threadbare, stains covered the walls, and cobwebs blanketed every available surface. She walked into the adjoining bathroom, opening up the cabinet and retrieved Chase’s sleeping medication. She then re-entered the bedroom and sat down on the bed.

         Opening up both the container and pill bottle, she swallowed the first pill with help from the too-tart juice. At once the shape at the corner of her eye became more distinct. She could make out white among the black. At the second pill, she could see the features of the face; the dark eyes and the stitched mouth. Then the third pill; she was crying now, quietly, tears rolling slowly down her cheeks. She could see the figure now, not just out of the corner of her eye. She swallowed the fourth pill, taking a particularly large swig of the sour drink. The figure seemed to be closer to her now; she thought she could see the obsidian eyes glint in satisfaction. She felt the slender, too-long fingers stroke the side of her face. ‘Don’t cry. Two more to go, Kora.’ She bit her lip, crying a little harder, and took the fifth pill.

      The figure was sitting next to her now and she could make out more details than she ever could before. The eyes were like dark oceans and she could see her reflection in them. There were three dark lines of varying length coming from them, like black tear stains or streaks of blood. The mouth was rough with dried blood at the edges. The fingers were white like the face and reminded her of thick pieces of straw.

      Orcus was murmuring to her now; yes, he had always been Orcus, she had just refused to realize it; “Just one more. Take the last pill. Sleep and dream, little flower.” She obeyed and took the last pill, finishing the pomegranate juice and lay down, closing her eyes. As she drifted off to sleep, she felt Orcus kiss her temple and recite in a sing-song voice, “All plans have come together. And for the first time, you’ll feel…just…fine.”

*****


      Kora Sherry was a housewife, and a good one at that. She cleaned the house and cooked exquisite food. She maintained her figure and happily went about her existence as a domestic housewife, even though that was not her case at all. She laughed and smiled and radiated exuberance.

         But that is during the day. For when evening comes, she dresses herself in her red sundress. And she sits on her bed and watches the darkness transform the room and him emerge from the shadows. And nothing else matters, for there is no Chase or Mason or Julia. There is only them, in their game of Hades and Persephone. And she does not cry or scream or beg, when he tears her heart in two and plucks out her eyes. And in her mind, Kora Sherry watches herself die every night.
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