Twisted Mirrors (A Dark Fantasy Horror): The Edge of Reflection Book 1

by Carver Pike

  Then she took the length of him all the way into her mouth. Gabe leaned against the wall and grabbed her hair. He pulled at it, making sure to dig in and squeeze at the roots. She went faster, bobbing up and down on him. She seemed to like the hair pulling. So he pulled harder.

  She pulled her mouth off but kept her fist firmly around him.

  “Fuck me, dammit. What are you waiting for?”

  He lifted her to her feet then picked her up and slammed her against the wall. Her hot breath nipped at his ear as she giggled and wrapped her legs around him. Her dress hung from her like tattered and torn curtains. She pulled free of it and was finally totally naked.

  She lifted one of her tits and put it in his mouth. At the same time, all on its own, his cock found its way. The tip of his head was drenched, positioned right below her swollen hole.

  “You want me?” he asked.

  She laughed. “Are you fucking kidding? Why do you think I’m here? Yes, please…fuck me!”

  He lifted up on his toes and at the same time she put her hands under his arms and pushed. His cock rammed its way inside, instantly lubricated by her juices. He plunged in, feeling her hot, tight pussy hugging his dick. He bucked and pushed upward as she shoved down, over and over.

  She cried and screamed and whimpered.

  She smacked his forehead and he fell backwards onto the floor but she wasn’t letting him get away that easily. She climbed on top of him and sat on his cock, taking it all inside.

  The view was incredible as she slid forward and back on him, her face to the ceiling, a smile on her lips. Her tits rose and fell to her rhythm. He sat up and held her waist, wanting to sit with her as she continued to ride him. She leaned forward to kiss him.

  “You’re so much better,” she said. “You’re all I ever wanted. Why couldn’t he be you?”

  “What?” he asked.

  Who and what was she talking about?

  She leaned in again and kissed him feverishly and then she lashed out and scratched his chest. The pain was instant but as she kept fucking him, he realized he didn’t care. She lashed out with the other hand, raking him again.

  He didn’t realize he was bleeding until she wiped her hands across his chest and rubbed it over her tits.

  It was strange at first but everything about this encounter was strange and at the moment he didn’t care. He was having the best sex of his life. And he just wanted to keep fucking Lisa or Ivy or whatever the hell her name was.

  “Take me to your room,” she said.

  There was no making love that night. There was nothing loving about it. They were like two animals who’d been staring at each other for years, desperately wanting each other and now the cages had been left unlocked. Somehow, they made it to Gabe’s bed and what seemed rough in the living room only intensified under the sheets. Ivy rode Gabe with a fury he’d never experienced.

  Blood from the scratch marks on his back and stomach soiled the covers. For hours, they indulged in every fantasy they could manage to explore and when finished, they both lay crumpled up, covered in sweat, exhausted.

  ***

  The moonlight shining in through the window cast a blue light over the sleeping duo. Gabe was on his back with Ivy’s head resting on his chest. To anyone who’d missed the intense sexual battle they’d gone through, they’d look like any other loving couple.

  Gabe stirred a little and opened his eyes. He glanced down at the beautiful woman resting against him, and was drawn to her innocent looking face. For a moment he saw Lisa, the real Lisa, and he wondered how he’d never found himself attracted to her in the past. He’d always thought she was pretty, but there had never been anything more.

  Things had changed though, and as much as he enjoyed this souped up version of Lisa, this woman who called herself Ivy, he missed the old version and found himself longing for her. He knew that he needed to have a talk with her because he didn’t want her to pretend she was something that she was not just to win him over.

  His eyes had been opened and he knew that he missed the normalcy and the decency the real Lisa possessed.

  Gabe carefully peeled Ivy off him and slid out of the bed without waking her. He pulled on his sweat pants and made his way into the bathroom. He winced in the bright light. It took a second for his eyes to focus on his appearance in the mirror. His stomach and shoulders were scratched.

  “Holy shit,” he muttered as he ran his fingers over the scratches and sucked in a painful breath. “She pulled no punches.”

  He turned on the sink and leaned over to splash cold water on his face. He thought about Allie again. He couldn’t help it. The girl he had considered marrying was sleeping with his boss. Gabe had always known that Allie aspired to be an opera singer, and it was no mystery that Detroit wasn’t the opera capital of the world, but wanting to sing and wanting to go to New York doesn’t require you to cheat on your boyfriend and screw the boss.

  So Charlie’s brother owned an opera house. An opera house could mean anything from a musical brothel to a main attraction off Broadway. He wondered if she’d even done her research and knew what she was getting into.

  The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He wanted to choke the hell out of both Charlie and Allie. Gabe splashed water on his face and shook his head.

  “So that’s why she didn’t want to go to LA,” he said aloud. “Unbelievable.”

  He leaned against the counter and stared at his scratched up reflection in the mirror.

  “I can’t take this shit anymore. I wanna kill that motherfucker.”

  Gabe’s image in the mirror suddenly winked at him. Gabe flinched, not believing what he’d seen. He leaned forward and stared into the mirror.

  “You’re losing your mind,” he said under his breath. “You’re losin’ it.”

  Then Gabe’s image grinned at him, causing Gabe to hop back from the mirror. He looked once more at his reflection and the smirk was gone. Gabe reached out and touched the mirror. It wasn’t solid the way that it should be, but more of a thick liquid. Gabe pulled back his hand and looked at his fingertips, then looked back at the mirror and saw only his normal reflection.

  He reached out to touch the glass. It was solid and he thought he might be going crazy. But then it liquefied again, and suddenly the hand in the mirror grabbed his. Gabe’s reflection began to change to a more menacing looking version of him, with long, greasy hair and a scarred up face. It was dressed in all black with a long overcoat.

  The dark reflection wouldn’t let go of his hand. He tried to find something to hold on to but the mirror was too wide, and his free hand found only liquefied glass. Gabe kicked out with his legs, knocking over a soap dispenser and his toothbrush.

  The reflection reached out to grab him by the hair. Gabe tried to free himself from the image’s grasp, but then with one final yank, the reflection pulled him through the mirror.

  Dark Gabe, known as Cutter, climbed out of the mirror and dropped down onto the floor. He took in the bathroom scenery. Disgusted by the cheesy flowered shower curtain, he yanked it free of the curtain rings and threw it into the tub.

  He looked back at the mirror and knocked on it once, just to make sure that it was solid. Satisfied that he was here to stay, he snarled and cracked his neck.

  ***

  Ivy was jolted out of her sleep. Something had awakened her. She pulled the sheet up over her chest and stared out at the dark room around her. It was eerily quiet.

  “Gabe?” she called out.

  No answer.

  “Gabe? You okay?” she tried once more.

  Still no answer. She climbed out of the bed with the sheet wrapped firmly around her and tip-toed towards the bathroom. The door opened before she reached it and light shined out on her. A monstrous silhouette filled the doorway.

  “Gabe?” she asked, concerned.

  “Aww, sweetness,” Cutter replied.

  His voice was much rougher than Gabe’s and she recognized it immediately. She
crept forward, trying to catch a glimpse of his face to confirm her fears, and when she did, her eyes opened wide with terror and she fought back a scream.

  “Cutter,” she murmured. Her lips trembled. She didn’t know what to do.

  He moved closer to her and pulled the left side of his jacket open, revealing the 9mm pistol he had tucked into his waistband. Then he pulled a large hunting knife out of the sheath on his hip and held it out for her to see.

  “Come to Daddy,” he said.

  Ivy screamed.

  Chapter 3 - The Dark Side

  Gabe fell through the mirror, his arms flailing, and tried to grab hold of anything that would stop his descent. He crashed onto the dirty countertop and bounced onto the floor. Momentarily stunned, his eyes blurred. He coughed twice. Dust blew away from his mouth. His eyes rolled back and then slowly came into focus.

  All around him was dark. Not dark as in the lights were turned off, but dark and dingy as if he were lying in a bathroom that had been abandoned for years. He pulled himself up off the floor and leaned against the broken cabinets. The cold drainpipe against his back caused him to slide away.

  A large cockroach scurried up the pipe. To his left was what remained of a bathtub. There was no curtain hanging down, just an old rusty tub. The toilet looked to have been ripped from the wall. Only pipes and broken tile remained.

  Gabe stood and turned to face the mirror. It was filthy and cracked in many places. He touched it, expecting to sink back into it, but it was now hard and solid. Gingerly, he slid his fingers over it and knocked a couple of times.

  Lost and confused, he stood, mouth agape, looking at his reflection. The mirror image’s jaw was dropped the same as his. He moved to the right and it did too. Then his reflection slid left, mimicking his every move.

  Frustrated, Gabe turned around. An open doorframe led out of the room. He approached it carefully and peeked out. Something hit him over his head and he fell to his knees. He was dragged out of the bathroom by his hair. Four homeless men, armed with liquor bottles, pipes, and sticks, attacked him. He tried to defend himself, but they were coming at him too strong.

  “This is our house!” one of them yelled out.

  “Get away from here!” yelled another.

  They picked Gabe up, rushed him towards the window, and hurled him through the glass. He plummeted down to the dark, wet alleyway below. His bare upper body splashed into a puddle as his body hit the ground with a sickening thud. A shower of glass fell on top of him.

  “Come back again and we’ll kill ya!” one of the bums yelled as he flung a bottle at Gabe.

  It shattered on the ground next to him, the shards cutting his flesh. He dragged himself into the shadows, out of view of his tormentors.

  There Gabe sat, injured and afraid, and clutched his side. Blood trickled down from his fingers. His sweat pants were ripped at one knee, and his skin burned beneath. He surveyed the land around him and saw that he was in an alley. The ground was littered with garbage. The buildings were dilapidated.

  A nasty stench hovered around him and Gabe fought the urge to vomit. A rat ran past him. A possum-like creature with a curly tail and thick black hair chased it. The rat squealed as it tried to scamper away from the other animal.

  “Where the hell am I?” Gabe asked himself.

  He glanced down and saw a two-inch piece of glass sticking out of the top of his left big toe. He winced as he yanked it out and tossed it to the ground. Gabe heard a faint dragging sound and whipped his head around to find its source.

  “Yeah, I see ya!” someone yelled out from further back in the dark alley.

  Inching his way along on his belly was a man with no legs, only stumps at the knees. He pulled himself forward with his hands, a knife clenched in his teeth. His hair was long and singed as if he’d recently crawled his way out of a fire.

  “Stay right there. I won’t hurt you,” he told Gabe as he dragged himself along.

  Gabe wasn’t sure of the man’s intentions, but somehow he doubted that the man wanted to offer him directions, so he stood and backed away.

  “Where ya goin’?” the dragger asked, a crazed look in his eyes.

  Gabe crept down the alley, his back pressed up against the brick wall, and made sure to remain in the shadows until he had picked his destination. This was a move he’d learned in the military. You never move from your position until you know exactly where you’re going next.

  He took in the insane scenery around him. It was complete anarchy. He’d never seen anything like it.

  A skinny, dirty man wearing nothing but underwear and galoshes was leading an overweight woman with frizzy red hair and a dog collar around her neck down the street. The couple passed Gabe and turned their heads to stare at him.

  “You like?” the man asked Gabe.

  “Uh…no thanks, man,” Gabe mumbled.

  The skinny man flipped Gabe off and continued on.

  In the middle of the street, a man wearing a fur coat full of holes with aviator goggles on his head ran around a manhole until he became so dizzy that he fell over and busted his nose.

  The man groaned and spit out blood as he slowly sat up. A strange little vial dangled from a string around his neck, and he laughed as he pulled it out from underneath his shirt. He uncapped the vial, held it up to his nose and inhaled. An orange powder flew into his nostril. Some of the powder landed on his cheek, but he quickly wiped it off with his hand and licked it.

  Gabe noticed that all of the buildings were in various states of ruin. There was no electricity and what few glass windows remained intact had either darkness or torch light behind them. It looked like Kabul after the Taliban sent in a suicide bomber.

  Huge bonfires blazed at nearly every intersection. Large metal trashcans filled with flames dotted the streets between bonfires. Gabe watched in horror as someone standing next to one, warming his hands, was pushed into the fiery drum, knocking it over. Its flames instantly ignited his clothing. The burning man screamed and rolled around on the ground while the other man laughed hysterically.

  Many half-naked men and women roamed the streets. All were armed with some type of weapon. A crazed man holding a giant syringe ran past Gabe and violently jabbed it into another man’s arm. The victim screamed and pitched forward onto his face, dying instantly while the aggressor ran off, cackling.

  “Liquid cyanide! Liquid cyanide!” the aggressor yelled.

  “What is wrong with these people?” Gabe asked himself.

  He didn’t realize that he’d begun to drift out into the street. He was so caught up in the absurdities he was witnessing around him that he didn’t even notice his feet were moving forward.

  Behind Gabe a swarm of motorcycles rounded the corner and barreled towards him. The sea of bikes parted down the middle, leaving Gabe hunched over, dodging for his life.

  One of the bikers, a bald man with a beard, suddenly unsheathed a huge machete and held it out to his side, aiming straight for Gabe’s neck. Gabe ducked just in time.

  “Get ya the next time around!” the biker hollered out as he passed.

  Gabe dodged the remaining motorcycles and raced into the shadows of a nearby building, where he hunkered down and watched the insanity around him.

  At the next corner, there was a group of prostitutes standing out in front of a building that had a large sign that read: Beaver Pie. The prostitutes lifted their skirts and their tops at the passing bikers.

  “Come on in boys! Two for one!” a curly haired prostitute yelled.

  She wore way too much make up and was missing a few teeth. Her counterparts were attractive though.

  Three of the bikers swung their bikes around and parked in front of the whorehouse. The lead biker, a heavyset man with a Mohawk, walked in front of the other two. He grabbed one of the attractive prostitutes by her hair and dragged her into the building. The girl screamed, but didn’t fight to get away. The biker stopped halfway through the door and turned to look at the others.


  “Bitches! You said two for one!” he yelled.

  He pointed at the toothless red head and she followed obediently into the building. The other two bikers stood guard outside.

  Gabe knew he couldn’t stay in the shadows all night. He looked down the street and saw a rickety sign that read: Inn. That was enough for him. If he could just make his way over to the hotel and get a room, he could sit at the window, watch all of the craziness below, and try to figure out what to do next.

  He had just stepped out into the street when he patted his pockets and realized he had no wallet with him. He wasn’t going to make it to the hotel anyway.

  An odd, bald black man approached Gabe. He wore a tall violet top hat, a necklace made of human teeth, and his face was painted white like a skull. Gabe thought he looked like a Voodoo priest from the movies. The man stepped out into the middle of the street, followed by several insane-looking disciples.