The scream never made it past my lips.It died in my throat, choked by the metallic taste of fear.
I blinked once, twice , thrice and the vision vanished.The hallway was empty again. The knife lay still on the floor, clean. No blood. No twisted reflection. No corpse with a broken neck.Just my breathing...uneven, too loud.
I backed away until my spine hit the wall. The plaster felt warm.Why was the wall warm?
From somewhere behind it, I heard breathing.Slow. Deliberate.Like someone mimicking my rhythm.
"Don't… look back,"the knife whispered.
My pulse slammed in my ears. I stared at the blade, horrified that it moved. A single black tear rolled down the steel thick, ink-like, almost alive. It hit the floor and sizzled, leaving a dark mark that spread like a burn.
I wanted to run, but my legs wouldn't obey. My eyes darted across the corridor. Shadows pulsed. The fluorescent light flickered, and in one flash....I saw them.
Hands.Bloody, reaching out of the walls.
"Stop it," I whispered, clutching my head. "It's not real. It's not real."
"You already saw it,"said the voice."You just haven't become it yet."
I stumbled backward, my breath sharp and shallow. The knife rolled toward me on its own, metal scraping tile, and stopped exactly at my foot. The sound echoed like a heartbeat, over and over
tap… tap… tap....until the rhythm was all I could hear.
The ceiling lights went out.Darkness swallowed everything except the faint glow from the knife.It was enough to show my reflection again
but this time, It was smiling.My reflection mouthed something.I leaned closer, trembling, trying to read the wordsAnd the glass cracked.
A drop of black fell from my own eye.
I screamed.