Leaves and Shadows

by Christopher Chancy

  Having no other option of escape she walked through the darkened door way. As she passed through she found four of the walls occupied with mirrors. As before the red-eyed monster remained in its fixed spot. In each of the remaining was a twisted reflection of herself staring at her with a leering smile.

  The far left mirror sneered. "What's the matter Erin? Did you hear something that you didn't like?"

  The middle one retorted, "I guess the truth hurts. Doesn't it, babe?"

  The third chimed in, “You keep running into all the people whose lives you ruined.”

  “Your involvement in their lives is like a festering disease,” the left one remarked.

  “You could even call it a kind of cancer.” said the middle one.

  “Say, didn't her mother die of cancer?” added the right.

  “That couldn't have been some sort of coincidence, could it?”

  “No, it couldn't have.”

  “Let’s see, if we add the common denominator between our Momma, Daddy, and good old Darren . . .”

  “Aw, yes, we can’t forget Darren.”

  “Whatever happened to him?”

  “Oh that’s right. He killed himself because of you, Erin.”

  “How does it feel to have two deaths on your hand, sweetie?”

  “Oh wait, we forgot three deaths.” The three reflections held up their own Evan, still invisible in his muddy clothes. They each waved the limp rags at her cruelly.

  “No,” she whispered as she backed away

  From the threshold of the door she could her one of them cackle. “Now, sweetie, who do you think real monster is?”

  “Yes, we might be scary, but we haven’t killed anyone.”

  “Yet.”

  She fled through the door’s threshold. She knew something dark was coming, but she hoped that whatever it was, it might be more bearable than listening to her own voice say such horrible things.

  The instant she passed through the arch, a familiar voice shouted at her. Erin jumped and whirled around to see her younger father glaring at her over the body of her recently deceased mother from the mirror Father Mackleby had occupied only moments ago. “You are getting exactly what you deserve! Now you know what it feels like to lose someone you love! Good! Those brats are no grandbabies of mine! You all can go to Hell! I don’t want to see you ever again!”

  “But Daddy you love Evan . . . you love me,” she implored weakly.

  She backed away from him and his twisted words. She briefly wondered how long this madness would continue. How long could she keep retreating from room to room with all of her worst fears and memories free to attack her with demonic life.

  Her unspoken question was answered with a thump as she backed into a cold wall that had not been there moments ago. She spun and around a scream tore from her lips. At the stormy funeral grounds, Father Mackleby stood only inches from the glass. Behind him, the crowd of funeral-goers stared at her with silent contempt.

  The priest’s eyes were wild above his lips as they pulled back in a toothy snarl. “What’s the matter, Erin? Does the word of God burn your cursed ears? It should! For your heart is black and irredeemable! The music of God’s light should sear your twisted soul with every syllable!”

  “You brought this on yourself! This is your punishment!” shouted her father from the frame behind her. He and Father Mackleby weren’t the only specters. All walls of the hexagon room were now occupied. Two of her own twisted reflection appeared in mirrors on opposing walls shouting, cackling, and taunting her.

  Darren slammed his fists on his mirror, "Well, great! It looks like we're reunited again." He smirked at the other mirrors. "I guess I'm not the only one disappointed."

  Darren appeared on the wall opposite the raining curb. Erin screamed as red eyes in the reflection shifted and zombie version of herself shambled out of the shadows up to the glass. The rain continued to pour down on her twisted features. Lightning cracked in the frame and the zombie reached for her, its skeletal fingers scraping against the glass.

  “You are going to die along with your son, and no one is going to find you!” one of Erin’s reflections shouted.

  “You are worthless as a daughter, wife, and mother!” one shrieked.

  She looked around the room frantically. There was no exit anywhere to be found. All sides of the room were occupied by these hate-filled mirrors.

  She stared in horror as another of her reflections began to rip the clothes off of the invisible Evan in a horrendous manner, stripping the unseen child down to his Scooby Doo underoos. The underwear hung suspended in the air with the mass of the child giving it perverted form. With an expression of dark adulation the dark reflection ripped them off of the invisible child in the mirror. She held out her hands and gave an amused shrug. “He’s gone for good now!”

  Erin’s lip trembled at the sight, and her knees felt weak.

  Behind her she heard the priest’s interjection, “. . . you will smolder in the fiery lake!”

  Her dad’s voice carried over. “You never deserved your mother’s love!”

  "You don't deserve anyone's love!" Darren raged.

  Her distorted reflections added their voices to the rabble, “. . . going to die! . . . worthless . . . he is already lost! . . . pathetic piece of . . . your mother . . . pits of damnation…”

  Their voices hammered against her, each phrase assaulting her very being. Her eyes burned as they flooded over and her knees faltered. She fell forward clutching Evan with one arm, her other arm braced against the floor as she openly fought her desire to sob. She instinctively knew that once she started to cry she would not stop, nor would their words ever relent. They would continue their hateful blather with vicious fervor. She would be unable to hold back their words. If she clasped her hands over her ears and eyes she would have to release Evan. She couldn’t do that. She had fought too hard to save him only to let him go now. As the consequence of her courageous choice, they would continue to work on her mind until their words drove her into the oblivion of insanity. Covering her ears would be a futile attempt to stop the increasing thunder of their inflammatory words.

  “. . . God’s redemption is . . . worthless . . . I hate you! . . . lost forever . . . Hate! . . . Dead! . . . Vanquished! . . . undeserving . . . an eternity of sorrow!”

  One of the doppelgangers made a great show of shaking the invisible Evan harshly. It grinned at her with mad glee then threw him roughly up into the air, she pointedly looking at her through the glass as she ignored his descent to the floor. Erin reached out instinctively her fingertips scratching the glass as the invisible child struck the floor with a heavy thud. The reflection cackled at the fact that invisible Evan didn't make a sound.

  Erin unsuccessfully tried to bite back a sob. With burning tearful she looked between Evan in her arms and the reflection on the floor. Evan remained unfazed in his limp state. The offending reflection cackled at her response. The doppelganger knelt down and slapped the body on the floor.

  Fire ignited in her heart. She glared at the reflection. “How dare you.”

  She looked around at the reflections. “How dare all of you.”

  They abominations weren’t just threatening her. They were also threatening her children! And that made her angry.

  She spoke out loud. At first her words came out in a hoarse whisper, “Stop it.”

  Something about uttering this phrase gave her strength. The fire within her glowed even hotter. Next to her Evan somehow felt ember of strength burn within her and his body tensed a minuscule amount. It was the first positive movement he had made since she had reunited with him in this evil place.

  Father Mackleby, her father, Darren, and the multitude of her dark selves continued their verbal assaults. They did not hear her soft voice. She looked up, her eyes defiant as she looked at all of them in turn. She said clearly and concisely, “Stop it.”

  They all did. Everyone looked at her as if she had reached up and through the glass and
struck each of them. Something about the quiet conviction of her words was felt by them all.

  The shocked silence remained momentarily as they stared at her with stunned faces.

  It was Father Mackleby who broke the silence first, just an instant before the others, “You will not deny the word of God!”

  “I will not be disrespected!” her father shouted.

  Darren’s eyes narrowed. "You really think you're something, don't you?"

  Several of her reflections actually cackled at her. It sounded forced to her ears. One said, “Oh, you’re trying to be act all brave now.”

  “You and your brat are going to die!” shouted another.

  “Stop it!” Erin demanded.

  They ceased at once as all of their mirrors trembled audibly. Every one of them stared out from their glass housing with uncertainty.

  One of her reflections broke the second silence this time as she smirked at her with false bravado. “We’re not going anywhere; soon you will join us.”

  They were all nodding in agreement. She finally saw them for what they were, or rather what they needed from. They needed to feed off of her fear to maintain their own existence. She gave the reflection that spoke to her a cold satisfied smile that did not touch her eyes. The mirror’s eyes grew wide with a sudden sense of fear.

  “Stop it!” she bellowed fiercely.

  The mirrors rattled violently in their frames. The glass snapped loudly as several cracks splintered across their frames.

  “You are doing Satan’s work!”

  “You are going to destroy me like your mother!”

  "Erin, baby, don't do this to me again!"

  “No!”

  “No!”

  “Please no!”

  She took a deep breath and screamed for all she was worth, “STOP IT!”

  The mirrors shattered, leaving Erin and Evan alone in the dark.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Images

  Thoom Thoom

  Thoom Thoom

  Thoom Thoom

  A drumbeat resonated around her in a rapid but regular rhythm of two. With each beat of the drum, a crimson light flashed about her only to fade into darkness again with pause between each set of beats.

  She looked around apprehensively, afraid of what was coming next. The dark floor around her was covered with shards of shattered glass from her former prison. Otherwise the area around her was completely barren save a single archway that stood directly before her. The drumbeat and the red flashing lights emanated from the other side.

  She knew there was no point in trying any alternate course. She stood up and braced herself for the inevitable as she approached the arch.

  Thoom Thoom

  Thoom Thoom

  She was bathed in the red pulsing light as she stared into the archway. In the short distance, she could see several glass panels suspended in the air form a pseudo-hallway. She shivered at the thought of confronting more mirrors, but steeled herself with a deep breath and reminded herself that she was just prolonging the inevitable. From her angle in the entrance, she couldn't see her reflections, but each of the glass panels throbbed with the red light in perfect unison with each drumbeat. They faded to absolute darkness again in the brief pauses.

  Stealing her nerves, she stepped through the archway. Blinking as she peered into the red light, she furtively scanned the first glass panel. It wasn't a reflection at all. It was a picture of . .

  Thoom Thoom

  The red light of the glass picture pulsed on off burning the after-images of a picture onto her retina. The constant pulsing of the image made it much more difficult for her to focus on what the image actually was, like seeing a room only lit by a strobe light.

  After a few moments, her eyes finally acclimated to the rhythmic flashes. When she realized what she was looking at, she stepped back in surprise. It was a picture of her . . . and Scott.

  This image wasn't like the creepy reflections of herself, it was just a still picture. Actually that wasn't completely accurate. With each flash the image changed slightly, a series of still pictures taken in a row like a still motion film. The first image was of her talking to Scott, who stared at her wide-eyed. The red lights flashed on and off again, and in that brief span of time she had pressed her hands to her smiling mouth. Scott was laughing and reaching for her. With another flash he was hugging her tightly. They were both laughing as he lifted her up to spin her around.

  She recognized the scene, although the last time she had witnessed it was from the vantage point of her own eyes. She was staring at the moment she had first told Scott that she was pregnant again.

  The picture flashed again and her husband still spun her.

  Tears glistened in her eyes as she studied the series of images. Oh, how she missed her husband. She wouldn't wish this forsaken place on him for anything, but still there was a part of her that wished he were here to hold and protect her. She reached up to touch his face in the picture.

  As her fingers caressed the glass by his face, suddenly all the pictures in all the frames blinked off. The return to darkness spanned several uncomfortable seconds. Then an electric hum buzzed in the background, and the next moment the rhythmic pulse with the red light returned.

  Thoom Thoom

  The corridor panels flashed, save the one she had touched. The space it had occupied remained an empty patch of darkness. From the haze of the red light she could see that even the glass was gone. She looked from the empty space to the path set before her. There were dozens of pictures that extending off into the distance.

  The next panel revealed a graphic image of her throwing up in her toilet. The red wash of light made it appear she was purging volumes of clotted blood.

  The image changed again and she could see her vomit splatter over the toilet seat and peppering the floor with its mess. She stepped back away as a wave of nausea struck her.

  "Uh . . . gross!"

  She quickly pressed on, but unfortunately she passed several more images of her being violently sick. If not for the changes of clothing and sometimes the settings, she would have thought it to be the same image over and over again. In one particular image, she was vomiting in a public trashcan by the road. An elderly couple watched in utter disgust.

  She shook her head as she recalled that moment with the same clarity of announcing the pregnancy to Scott. She was walking into the grocery store when the mere whiff of the elderly man's cologne struck her wrong and she started to wretch uncontrollably. She was there a full five minutes before she had finally gotten control of herself. It was one of the most embarrassing moments she had experienced in recent history.

  The lights and drumbeat pulsed and she moved on to another image of her being sick, coupled with a few of her lying on her couch looking utterly exhausted.

  There was an image of her staring at herself in the mirror with her shirt pulled up, the beginnings of a baby bump starting to show. Erin remembered this moment through the haze of other memories, but she was stunned to realize just how haggard she looked. Her hair was stringy, her face was gaunt, and she had huge bags under her eyes.

  That was when it hit her. These images that made up this odd hallway were documenting progression of her pregnancy.

  "No!" she gasped, anticipating what would come. She rested a shaking hand on her abdomen. She should have expected this, but she hadn't.

  Her mind flashed back to the prior months. She remembered feeling so elated when she had realized that she was pregnant again. She had told Scott immediately and he was even more excited than she was. He had laughed and picked her up and spun her around holding her so tight. They both fell to the ground laughing. They were so happy. After all, how could they know what was looming around the corner?

  She shook her head banishing the trail of thoughts. Sensing where this was going, she started forward again trying to ignore the pulsing of the pictures, but it was useless. The flashing pictures kept drawing her eyes to them as she passed them
by. She saw dozens more images of her getting sick or lying listlessly.

  With each image, she was forced to remember. For the most part, the past several months had passed by in a continuous blur. She knew this pregnancy had been hard, but to be confronted with all her low moments really sealed her dark perspective. She had felt so sick, but she had only ignored her growing concerns.

  She remembered how she tried to ease her increasing worry by telling herself these were normal symptoms of any expecting mother. Some pregnancies were just tougher than others.

  She paused before one picture. In it, she lay in her bed in what appeared to be a troubled sleep. Her sleeping face was anxious and her hand clutched her abdomen protectively. She must have been locked in some kind of nightmare. Scott was also present in image. He lay beside her, watching her sleep with a worried expression of his own.

  The image pulsed, changing only slightly. Erin studied her husband’s face in the picture for a long time. Oh, how her heart ached for him in her heart.

  As the months progressed frame by frame, she recalled how he began to get more and more worried about her. Normally, he was the type of man to keep such concerns private. He knew more than anyone else how easily she could get worked up by her anxious thinking. This time, he had ignored his usual tendencies and tried to convince her to seek some medical help. She tried dissuading him every time the subject came up. We don’t have the money. No really, I'm fine honey. This is normal. All the lies and dismissals that she had told herself sounded hollow in her own ears as she voiced them aloud. As the time progressed, he approached her more and more frequently. Ultimately his questions, gentle as they were, were enough to puncture a hole in her bubble of resistance. Most of the time she would burst into tears and find herself in his arms as he comforted her. She didn't plan it that way, but this would usually end it. Scott was a different man than Darren Hickson. He didn't resent her emotional outbursts in the least. He just patted gently as he told her, "It’s okay, babe. It will be okay."