Dark Ends: A Horror Collection

by Sara Bourgeois

  Sammy still hadn't had a chance to talk to John about the other night. She insisted to herself that everything was okay. Dealing with suicide was part of the job, and she'd known that before choosing her major.

  Around midmorning after breakfast, Sammy decided to go for a walk. She guessed that not many of her neighbors were home at that time because no one sat out on their front porches. It was a beautiful day, and every front yard on her block was empty.

  None of the other houses on the street were quite like Sammy's. Most of them were much newer and more modern. Her house had to have been one of the original homes in the area and was most likely a great deal more isolated until more recent times.

  When Sammy was about a mile away from her house, the sky clouded over, and a chilly breeze kicked up. She shivered but didn't want to go back home just yet. Something felt off there. She'd begun to wish they hadn't saddled themselves with a thirty-year mortgage.

  It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, Sammy realized it was her attempt to normalize what had happened in the house. If she told herself that it was perfect and that everything was great there, she didn't have to face what had happened.

  Sammy fought the impulse to call Cameron. She didn't have his cell number, but she'd called the church he was ministering at and had gotten his secretary to give her Cameron's direct office line.

  He wouldn't be any help, though. She wanted him to tell her that everything was okay and that she wasn't being used or stalked by dark things. Cameron was the last person to give her that reassurance though. She'd known it when he walked away the last time they'd seen each other.

  She could call John. He'd stop whatever he was doing and talk her off the emotional cliff she felt herself approaching. Why was she suddenly so upset? Why was the thought of calling the one person who loved her more than life itself making her heart race faster?

  He'd want her to get rid of the mirror. When she insisted that it wasn't necessary, he'd get that overly concerned look in her eyes. The look that used to bring her comfort, but now made her feel like a child. She didn't need him to worry about her. She had the mirror.

  Sammy stopped and shook her head. That sounded crazy. She just needed to get home and be near it again. It wasn't that strange to be comforted by a favorite object.

  The cool breeze at her back quickened her steps. As she approached the house, the vice around her chest started to relent. Her breathing slowed, and Sammy's heart rate returned to normal.

  Once she stepped through the front door, Sammy stood in front of the mirror. People would've probably thought it was silly, but the reflection made her feel calm. It was a different view, and the way she looked in that mirror made her more confident. The shiny surface offered her a more complete version of herself. A better Sammy. All she had to do was reach out and touch it.

  As she reached for the glass, the doorbell rang twice. Sammy jumped and pulled her attention away from the silvery world that beckoned her from the other side. Who could that be?

  Sammy generally wouldn't answer the door for uninvited and unexpected guests. It wasn't safe.

  Go ahead.

  A voice in her head or behind her, Sammy wasn't sure, urged her to open the door. She clicked the deadbolt and slowly opened the door. For a moment, Sammy didn't recognize the man standing on the porch. After a moment, she realized who he was.

  It was the man in the red truck who'd almost taken the mirror when it was out on the curb. Was he here to see if she still had the mirror? There was no way she'd let him take it.

  "Ma'am. I'm sorry to bother you, but I need to speak with you." He said as he removed his red baseball cap and revealed a head full of curly brown hair.

  Invite him in.

  That sounded like a terrible idea, but if it's what the mirror wanted, then Sammy would acquiesce. "Come in. Would you like some tea?"

  "Sure." The man answered as Sammy showed him to the living area.

  He sat down on the sofa, and she went to the kitchen to pour two glasses of ice tea. "I hope iced is okay," Sammy called from the kitchen.

  "That would be nice, ma'am."

  She brought the glasses into the living room and handed him one. Sammy took a seat in the armchair and crossed her legs formally.

  "How can I help you?" She asked and sipped her tea. "By the way, what is your name? I'm afraid I didn't catch it."

  "I'm Hank Brisbon, ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet you."

  "Well, Hank. I'm Samantha Hainsley." She said and watched him take a big gulp of his drink. "I saw you the other day when you came to look at the mirror."

  "That's why I'm here, Samantha. I saw that you had the mirror hanging in the entryway." Hank said, and Sammy noted that a line of sweat had formed on his forehead. "I came back the day after I left it on your curb, and I was worried that you'd hung it in the house. Or, that someone else had taken it. I wanted to see if I could track them down."

  "Why?" Sammy asked. "I mean, I know it's a great piece, but that seems like an awful lot of trouble to go through when there are other mirrors out there."

  "I didn't want to track it down because I wanted it," Hank said and coughed. "I wanted to find it so that I could warn whoever had it not to keep it in their house."

  "You wanted to caution me about the mirror?" Sammy asked, but she knew why. She didn't care. It was her mirror, and there was no reason for her not to hang it in her home.

  "I don't know any way to say this without it sounding crazy, so I'm just going to say it. When I picked up the mirror to look it over, I saw something in it." Hank said and started to rub his chest. "At first I thought it was someone on the sidewalk behind me or my mind playing tricks on me, but Samantha, there was something evil in that mirror."

  "You realize how crazy that sounds, right?"

  "I know, and I've never been the type to believe in things. But, there is something wrong with that mirror. You need to get rid of it." Hank said, and he began to cough again.

  Sammy watched him turn bright red. He seemed to be having trouble catching his breath. "Are you okay?"

  "It's really hot in here," Hank said. "I need some air."

  He stood up shakily, and Sammy went quickly to his side. The nurse in her couldn't just watch him struggle even if he was insulting her mirror. "Let me walk you out to the porch. We can sit out there."

  Hank let her take his arm. She guided him to the entryway, but as Sammy reached out for the front door, she saw Hank frozen in front of the mirror. His face and shirt were drenched with sweat, and all of the color had drained from his face.

  "My chest hurts," Hank said as he clutched his sternum.

  He went to his knees, and Sammy wasn't able to stop him. She looked up at the mirror for a moment, and it appeared that her reflection smiled back at her. Sammy shook her head and turned her attention to Hank.

  She helped him as gently as possible get to the floor. Sammy grabbed her phone, put it on speaker phone, and laid it next to them after dialing 911. The dispatcher picked up, and Sammy told her the address and that she had someone having a heart attack in her house.

  Sammy checked his vital signs and confirmed that Hank was in cardiac arrest. She stayed on the phone with the dispatcher while giving him CPR until the paramedics arrived.

  This was the second time in two days that someone almost died in her presence. Lucy was dead, but Hank was still alive when the EMTs took him. They told her that she'd saved his life. Had the man had his heart attack anywhere else besides in the presence of a nurse, he probably wouldn't have made it.

  But, Sammy couldn't shake the feeling that being in her house, and around the mirror, was the reason he'd fallen ill. Hank might have been right. Something about the mirror wasn't what she'd thought.

  Sammy grabbed a blanket and threw it over the mirror. She shivered as the temperature in the house dropped. That was probably just from the temperature outside dropping, she told herself. It had to be the weather. People weren't oppressed by demons and haunted by mir
rors in the same lifetime.

  Right?

  Chapter Ten

  Sammy called John and told him about Hank having a heart attack. When she said that her patient had also died the night before, he insisted on coming home immediately.

  When John told his supervisor what had happened, he told John to go home. "You can make up hours this weekend. We're running a skeleton crew every Saturday and Sunday this month. I'll put you on the list."

  "Thank you," John said and took off for his truck.

  There hadn't been any rain in the forecast, but the clouds that had blown into the area opened up. The fat, heavy drops blasted the windshield of the truck until John couldn't see anymore.

  He pulled over to the side of the road and texted Sammy to let her know it would take him a while to return home. She said that she was fine and was sitting out on the porch watching the storm.

  Are you hungry? John texted while he waited. He wasn't sure if Sammy had been eating properly.

  Very. I feel like I haven't eaten for days.

  John wondered if that was because she hadn't. I'll stop on the way home and get tacos.

  Okay. Love you. I'm sorry.

  John was going to tell her that he loved her too and ask why she was sorry, but the rain relented. He thought about sitting there for a few more minutes, but John thought it would be better if he just got himself home.

  It was after the lunch rush when John pulled into the taco place. He decided to use the drive-through since the sky looked as though it could've opened up again at any time.

  He ordered a few tacos, two sides of rice, and two large drinks. While John waited at the window, something in the rearview mirror caught his attention. A man stood behind his truck facing the car behind him.

  John kept his eye on the man because it seemed so peculiar. Why was this man standing in the drive-through lane? Eventually, the man got into the car behind him. John could see the man and the woman behind the wheel arguing. It must have been a domestic dispute. He was glad when the window opened, and the girl inside handed him his food and drinks.

  He was thankful that he'd gotten out of there before the kerfuffle in the car behind him got worse. The last thing John wanted to deal with was having to break up a fight in the drive-through lane.

  As soon as John pulled out of the restaurant parking lot, the rain started again. It wasn't as bad, though, so he kept driving home. After hydroplaning once, John slowed his speed considerably.

  When he was less than a mile from home, a loud, black sports car came roaring up behind the truck. John got the sense that it was tailgating him, and when he looked into the rearview mirror to judge the distance between himself and the car, he saw a woman with dark hair sitting in the back seat of the truck.

  She'd been looking down, but when John glanced back, her head lifted. The woman's gaze was nothing but two black holes, and her smile bore a double row of sharp teeth. He blinked in the hopes that his imagination was playing tricks on him, but when he opened his eyes after the split second, the woman was reaching for him with hands tipped in black sharp nails.

  John couldn't slam on the brakes because the sports car was still riding his bumper. He could feel the fetid breath of the woman on the back of his neck. He panicked and jerked the wheel toward the shoulder of the road.

  The car behind him blared its horn but did not slow. As John's truck turned to the side to exit the road, the front of the car bumped into the rear panel of the truck and sent it spinning off the road.

  John slid for a hundred feet until he hit the spot where the shoulder dropped off. The truck hit the decline just right, and it went rolling down into the ditch. Tacos, rice and drinks went flying all over the cab of the truck.

  After several rotations, the truck came to rest upside down off the side of the road. The sound of sirens woke John. His eyes slowly came into focus as his head spun from being upside down.

  He reached down and unbuckled his seatbelt. One hand extended above his head kept John from falling onto the roof of the truck. He lowered himself down as gently as he could, but even though he didn't exactly fall, he still thumped down.

  Pain shot through his knees and shoulders. His head swooned as he had to fight back the urge to get sick. As the sound of blaring sirens got closer, John crawled out of the truck's window.

  He winced as the small chunks of glass cut into his palms. Hot shocks of discomfort shot from his knees to his back as the shards sliced his knees as well. Once he was clear of the wreckage, John sat on the pavement and held his head in his hands.

  One siren came up behind John's truck. The police car came to a stop, and an officer stepped out.

  "Are you okay?"

  John lifted his head as much as he could and nodded yes, but it wasn't true. He couldn't focus his eyes, and his head and neck throbbed intensely. Without realizing it, John had rubbed blood from his hands all over his face.

  From across the road, the man driving the black sports car began to spew obscenities about John. He was accusing John of causing the accident on purpose. The officer told him to calm down and that someone would be along shortly to take his statement.

  "Are you injured?" The policeman asked as the other driver began to cross the street. "If you're not injured, I'm going to need you to wait by your vehicle, sir."

  The man kept coming.

  "Sir, go back to your car and wait or I'm going to cuff you and put you in the back of my cruiser."

  With that, the other driver relented and went back to his car. The policeman turned his attention back to John. When John tried to stand up, and the world began to spin, the officer helped guide him down to the pavement.

  Minutes later, an ambulance pulled up. John was loaded up on a stretcher after the EMTs put a neck brace on him. Once he was in the back, the emergency transport peeled out and raced toward the hospital.

  The rest was a blur for John. He could remember the moment the morphine kicked in and the pain melted away but not much else. Doctors and nurses worked calmly and quietly around him.

  John thought it peculiar that the real emergency room was nothing like what he'd seen in the movies and television. He eventually drifted off as the drugs made him overwhelmingly drowsy.

  He woke to the sound of beeping and distant voices. Sammy sat next to the bed, and once he came to, John felt her hand holding his. She pushed a strand of hair away from his face and smiled.

  "I'm glad you're okay." She said and squeezed his hand. "You had me scared for a moment."

  "I'm sorry, baby. You've been through enough. You didn't need this." John said in a gravelly voice.

  "Oh, John. You shouldn't be worried about me." She said and chuckled. "That's so much like you. Worry about me when you were the one in an accident."

  "I am sorry about the tacos." John laughed, and it made him cough.

  "It's okay. You've been out for a while. They had nachos in the cafeteria, so I got some food while they were trying to save you."

  "Seriously?" John asked and cocked his head to the side.

  "No." As if to confirm, Sammy's stomach growled.

  "I saw something in the truck's rearview mirror. It tried to attack me." John said suddenly and gravely.

  "What?"

  "It's that mirror we found in the attic, Sammy. It's let something into our lives." John whispered. "I'm so tired."

  He drifted back into unconsciousness.

  A nurse came through the door. "He's going to be in and out for a while. You should go get something to eat. We could hear your stomach growling in the hallway."

  She didn't want to leave him, but Sammy figured she could take the opportunity to find out what was going on with the mirror. If whatever was in it had attacked John in his truck, just removing it from their entryway wouldn't be enough.

  Sammy had to get to the bottom of it before the entity claimed anyone else.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sammy didn't want to leave John alone, but she needed a computer. The ide
a of going back to the house filled her with dread. There was no going back there until she knew how to get rid of the entity in the mirror.

  Her stomach was still protesting the lack of food, so Sammy decided to kill two birds with one stone. The university she'd graduated from had a cafeteria that would've still been open, and she could use a computer in the library.

  But, where would she start? That's when she realized she had to go home. Sammy needed a picture of the mirror. She reasoned with herself that she could go home, snap a picture of it, and grab her laptop. Then, she'd be able to go back to the hospital.

  The cafeteria at the hospital was open until at least one in the morning. Sammy steeled herself for the trip home. She didn't dare look in the rearview mirror while she drove but the sensation of someone sitting in the back seat right behind her was with her the entire way.

  Once she pulled into the driveway, Sammy bolted from the car. She stood in the front yard and thought about where her laptop sat. It was important that she make the trip into the house as short as possible.

  She'd left the laptop sitting next to her bed on the nightstand. So, she'd had to run up the stairs and grab it. Sammy had her phone ready as she came down the stairs and she only stopped long enough to snap a couple of pictures.

  Her heart almost jumped up and out of her throat when her reflection appeared to reach out to her. It was as if the dark-haired Sammy wanted to grab the phone. She almost made it back to her car when it dawned on her that she'd have to come back to the house later.

  "No." She said to herself.

  Sammy put her laptop in the car and went back into the house through the back door. All she needed was clothes, and there were some in the laundry room off the kitchen. She knew she'd be able to grab those without passing the mirror again.

  It took about two minutes for Sammy to grab a change of clothes and a clean uniform from the laundry basket on the dryer. The entire time, she heard a scratching sound coming from the front entryway, and she could swear it sounded as if the mirror was rattling too.

  Something tried to get out.