I know you see me
And I know you want to be free
I love you like a necessity
Because in your eyes I have serenity
I can see the fear in your eyes
But I don’t fully understand your cries
I know we are meant to be
If you just give me time you’ll see
I know I did everything just right
And I am not looking for a love fight
But why are you not eating
I promise I will stop screaming
I know what you need
I am that knight on that steed
But you keep pushing me away
And my kisses only make it half way
My rage is building inside
And my love will not be denied
You need to return my love
If you don’t you will be unheard of
They will only find your body
If you don’t change your monotony
Don’t force my hand
I won’t grandstand
This knife is getting hungry
So stop being so clumsy
I try to kiss your face
But you refuse out of disgrace
The knife does its job
And your life was robbed

After binge watching zombie movies I got ready for bed. I took a refreshing shower, brushed my teeth and put on my plain blue pajamas. The zombies, fresh in my mind, made me laugh at the absurdity of how slow and non-threatening they usually are. “How are they a threat when they can’t even run,” I thought to myself, “I prefer the ones where they can run and sort of strategize.” I climbed into bed, loving the cool sheets, while positioning my pillows. It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep.

I awoke when a loud noise exploded outside my apartment. It was still dark outside, but I could see flickering light. I threw back the covers and quickly walked to the sliding glass door that led to the balcony. The warm night air blasted in my face as I opened the balcony door. I stepped out onto the cool concrete balcony floor and immediately saw multiple fires.

When my eyes finally adjusted to the firelight something hit my apartment building. I fell backwards, into my bedroom, just as the sliding glass door shattered. I scrambled to my feet and rushed back out to see what happened. Jets flew by overhead and I could see them releasing bombs on the city.

The explosions lit the ground surrounding my building and what I saw made a chill run down my spine. There were hundreds of people pouring through the alleys and swarming the other people in the street. I could see the blood stained ground through the gaps in the horde. I almost threw up.

I froze. I didn’t know what to do. The horde of people started going into the surrounding buildings. The screams echoed up to my ears as I watched the horde slowly disappear. The ground was littered with bodies that laid in a connected pool of blood.

I could now hear the chaos in my building. I ran to my front door and looked through the peephole. I saw my neighbors frantically trying to get into their apartments. They kept looking back towards the stairs. I could only assume what they had witnessed. And it didn’t take long before I saw what was scaring them.

The petite redhead that lives across from me did not get inside in time. The door opened, but she was rushed by several people. She tried her best to close the door, but she was small and there were four of them. Their clothes were covered in blood and it was dripping down onto the white carpeted hallway floor. Their erratic feet were smearing the blood into the floor.

I was thinking about going to help, but before I could raise the courage, her door was wide open and they were crowding her body. She was on her back and they were ripping into her flesh. Her screams banged against my door as she tried to call for help. This didn’t last long. One of the bigger men stopped ingesting her breast flesh and sank his teeth into her throat. Her screams turned into gurgles, then stopped altogether.

More of the deranged people stormed through the hallway. A few stopped at my door and began beating on it. The one right in front of my peephole had chunks of flesh missing, an eye hanging out of its socket and a white, glassy eye. The other eye, besides being white and glassy, was devoid of life.

I started to worry that my door wouldn’t hold for very long. As I leaned my back against it I scanned my living room for something to barricade the door. The bookshelf caught my eye first, but I didn’t know if I could move it by myself. I tried to think, but the continued beating kept interrupting my train of thought.

I ran to the bookshelf and started throwing everything to the floor. When I had it cleared and started to pull it towards the door I heard a crack. And then another. I turned to look just as the first blood covered person pushed through my door. As he struggled I pulled the bookshelf even with the door and pushed it over. There was a loud crunch and howl.

I didn’t stay long enough to find out if the bookshelf did much damage. I ran to my bedroom and slammed the door. I then ran to my nightstand. I didn’t even bother taking the things off of it. Instead I yanked it up which made my alarm clock and lamp fly into the wall. The nightstand didn’t weigh much so I looked around for something heavier. As I started to walk my dresser towards the door I heard the unmistakable sound of my solid oak bookshelf fall to the floor.

They are in my apartment! I loudly thought at myself. I was only half way across the room with the dresser. I put everything I had into running my dresser up flush with the door. I succeeded, sort of. As I dropped the dresser, a putrid hand shot through the newly cracked bedroom door, and kept a small inch broken seal. The one hand was soon accompanied by other, blood caked limbs. It was not long before the limbs turned into bodies and the first shoulder. Next came the head of the one I saw through the peephole. His once hanging eye was now gone.

I ran into my bathroom and fastened the door shut. I looked for anything available to put in front of the door, but besides the fixtures and trash can there was nothing that could be used to barricade the door. I panicked and pulled the shower curtain rod down, which broke it. I decided to try and use it as a weapon.

I learned quickly that when there are at worst, half a dozen drug crazed people, no regular bathroom door is an obstacle. The one dead eyed freak rushed me. I tried to stab him in his one good eye with my broken curtain rod. He quickly dodged the would be weapon and lunged. I landed on my back and the delusional man dove for my neck. Once his foaming mouth bit down into my flesh I woke up.

September 21st, 2137

Adam was hanging out in his pajamas, waiting for his girlfriend Sydney to show up. They would take a shower together, get dressed and head out to greet the day. She was usually here by now. “Where is she?” Adam started to ponder as he picked up his phone.

RING RING RING

The caller ID stated a private number was calling, and after a shrug, Adam swiped his finger through the green bubble on the screen. He hit the speaker button and answered.

“Hello, this is Adam.”
“Is this Adam Goodwin? Adam Goodwin at 5578 North Brady Way?” An authoritative voice echoed through the room.
“Yes, who are you?”
“I am Sheriff Baskins. Unfortunately, we need you to come identify a body,” the booming voice lost a bit of bass when he finished, “There was a bus crash … and we believe we have Sydney Miller.”

May 24th, 2140

Adam threw himself into his work and for a while, it paid off. He made several discoveries in his field, nothing flashy or big, but they did build on one another. It showed how, theoretically, one could go back in time. All that was missing was an elegant theorem to wrap it in a bow. Adam was currently working on a device that would regulate the flow of time, and complete his theory. The device ran on the new element that the theory predicted, which it pulled from the air when Adam finally got it to work. The new element was silver and viscous and slowly filled the small container on the prototype controller. The lights came to life and the counters flipped to 0.

“Yes, I knew it would work!” Adam exclaimed just before a flash made him shut his eyes.

When the light fades Adam opens his eyes to find another person staring back at him. The new man was wearing Adam’s clothes and holding his brand new invention.

“Who the hell are you?”
“You, obviously, from a few minutes from now. Set your date then the time. Then we switch places.” The new Adam replied as he walked around the desk in the middle of the room.
“How do you know this?”
“The me that showed up in front of me told me.” The doppelganger reassured the first Adam.
“Does it hurt?” First Adam asked.
“Not really hurt, but there is some pressure.”

With that the first Adam got up and walked around the desk while programming the device. He reached the point that the new Adam appeared and looked over at his twin.

“What happens now?”
“Press the button and repeat what I said and settle back into our chair.” The new Adam said while sitting back with a grin.

Adam looked down at his device to make sure everything was set correctly then hit the button. A light brighter than he almost could not bear engulfed him. The pressure was almost unbearable as well but did not last as long as the light. When the light faded, again, his eyes were almost open when someone said, “Who the hell are you?”

“I am you, from a few minutes from now,” The original Adam stated as he slowly moved to the desk, “Set this date and time. Stand over there and press the button.”
“How do you know this?”
“This just happened to me and it’s what I was told.” The original Adam said.
“Does it hurt?”
“Bright light then pressure.” The original Adam replied as he took back his chair.

As the bright light flashed for the last time that day Adam started to wonder aloud, “When was Sydney in that accident?”
After a few quick recalibrations, Adam almost pressed the button, but remembered he needed to be where it occurred, not home, for it to matter.
Adam grabbed his jacket, remembering the weather on September 21st, 2137, and walked outside. He was a few blocks from where it had happened and briskly walked the distance. When he got to the road and saw the current bus drifting by, he put on the jacket and got ready to jump back. The bright light and pressure triggered uncomfortable memories, but he pushed through them and was soon standing at the corner a few minutes before the bus was due to crash on the road.

“A pedestrian causes the accident.” Adam kept murmuring under his breath.

He scanned the new landscape through piercing winds that stung his eyes. A ways away Adam saw what could only be another person. He started to run down his sides walkway, screaming and hollering towards the man in the distance. The bus came into view and Adam started to panic. In order to make sure the other man far from the street didn’t sprint into the oncoming bus Adam decided to run across the street and stop him.

SPLAT

The right side glass of the city bus broke inward, blood streaming through the small holes in the surface. The bus driver became startled and jerked the steering wheel away from the shattered barrier causing the bus to drift in the air before coming down on its side and throwing everyone around inside. Only two people lost their lives that day. The John Doe that got hit by the bus and the woman, Sydney Miller, that was standing up when the bus flipped.

“I can’t believe you have never been to Goatman’s Bridge, Brittney.” Derrick and his twin brother, Darren, said in unison.
“What’s so special about it?” Brittney asked as they pulled into a parking spot and got out of the car.
“Nothing, really.” Derrick replied.
“We have been here a bunch of times, and nothing has ever happened,” Darren told the group.
“What is supposed to happen?” Brittney asked.
“Well, that is where the intrigue begins.” Derrick said. “It could be one of three options. One is a lynching victim that comes back for revenge, two is the wife of the lynched man, looking for her murdered children, and three is Satanists summoned a portal to Hell.”
Everyone was silent as they climbed the small incline to the abandoned road. Soon, they were mere feet from the start of the iron truss bridge with a wooden deck. The four of them stood there for a few seconds before Brittney broke the silence.
“What do we do now?”
“We need to knock three times at midnight and cross the bridge.” Emily finally spoke up as everyone remained silent and looked at each other.
“I don’t remember that,” Darren said.
“Yeah, you have to knock three times on the bridge at midnight.” Emily took a few steps to the metal supports and knocked. She slowly walked onto the wooden deck. Derrick and Darren were the next two to knock and walk, and then Brittney followed suit.
“You know what? I like the idea of the portal to Hell the most. The other two are terrible.” Brittney shivered.
“And kind of the same story, right?” Darren looked around, but when no one spoke up, he continued, “It’s the wife of the goat herder that got lynched looking for whoever murdered her children. All of them were killed that night by some klansmen.”
“I think the goat herder’s name was Oscar Kendall, actually.” Emily looked at them, becoming more animated. “It was1899 when a group of …”
“We don’t need to go down that road tonight, do we, Emily?” Derrick said. Emily glared at him and fell silent.
“Hey, I want to know.” Brittney said, giving Derrick a frustrated push.
Emily looked smug. “Oscar Kendall was a successful black goat farmer down the way from this bridge. He put a sign that said ‘This way to the Goatman’ on the end of the bridge, and a group of angry white people decided that was worth his life. They pulled him out of his house in the middle of the night and dragged him to the bridge where they had a noose waiting. The mob put Oscar’s head through the noose and threw him over the edge of the bridge, but something went wrong, and Oscar’s head snapped off his body. They searched for the body up and down Hickory Creek, but it never showed up.”
“Where do the three knocks come from?” Brittney asked.
“That I don’t know,” Emily replied.
“Ha … I do.” Darren laughed before replying, “It is the rule of three.” After everyone just kind of shrugged, he explained. “Whatever you put out into the world, whether negative or positive, comes back to you at least threefold.”
“So what are we putting out?” Brittney interjected. “Positive or negative?”
When he only responded with a shrug, the group fell into general chatter, talking and walking from one side of the bridge to the other without moving further down the deck. A few more minutes dragged by before Derrick and Darren turned to walk down the bridge. Three “nos” instantly came from the young women.
“Come on, ladies.” Derrick sighed.
“Nothing is going to happen.” Darren assured them.
“Fine!” Brittney huffed before she and Emily followed behind the boys, huddling together as they walked.
A loud clap of thunder rumbled, but no flash of lightning accompanied it. The girls squealed as they ran to catch up to the boys. Another, even louder crack of thunder, echoed all around them, causing the girls to huddle together as they walked. There was still no flash, and only seconds passed before a third peal of thunder rang out, seemingly from the center of the bridge. A gust of wind sprang forth from nowher, almost pushing the teens to the ground.
“What is happening?” Brittney cried.
“We don’t know,” Derrick shouted. He took a step back as a red circle carved itself out of the fabric of reality.
It took less than a second for the circle to become whole, but watching the red line get longer and surviving the ear-splitting tone with which the process assaulted their human ears made it feel like the longest second of their lives. The crimson line became a red circle before the inside of the circle started to trickle down like droplets of blood, completely disappearing at the bottom, revealing a black hole wrapped in crimson liquid. There was a flash of light from inside the hole, and something slowly rolled out of it. The five teens watched as shadowy figures threw something else at the opening.
The second item landed right on top of the first and shot it out of the portal to Hell. The group looked down, frozen in fear, to see the head of a goat lying at their feet. The teens all let out a series of cries as they took a few steps back. Darren reached for his phone to catch the experience on video and got recording just in time to get the shadowy figure throwing another object. This odd item had more heat on it and hit Derrick in the chest with a disgusting squish before falling to the ground. It was a human head this time, male, blond haired, with milky blue eyes that stared at them reproachfully.
Derrick stumbled over his own feet to turn around and run. Emily fainted when a naked figure stepped to the threshold, haloed in crimson light. An overwhelming smell of decaying flesh invaded the teens’ senses before the thing emerged fully. It was a large, muscular man with the legs and head of a goat. In its hands were severed human heads.
The literal Goatman stood between seven and nine feet tall with glowing red eyes. Aside from its hind legs and genitals, the beast was hairless and covered in scars. It threw both of the heads it held at Brittney. The giant goat growled as the limber teen dodged the heads and turned to run.
Derrick was back down the incline and still running. Emily was mere feet from the monster, but it paid her no mind. Its red eyes were fixated on Brittney. It growled again before lunging at the girl. She was able to roll out of the way and quickly got to her feet to run off the bridge. The demonic satyr jumped in front of her planned route, revealed a thick knife in each hand, and plunged them into the girl’s chest. Then, with a swift movement, the Goatman decapitated the screaming girl with the same blades. Her head spun in the air, mouth still open, eyes wide, reflecting the red glow of the unholy portal. The beast let the body drop to the wooden deck but snatched her head out of the air. Without missing a stride, it entered the crimson gateway, the heads of his former victims following on a blast of hot wind. Just as quickly as it had appeared, the portal vanished. In the far distance, thunder rumbled like a contented beast after a meal.
As soon as the hole disappeared, Emily dragged herself, shaking to her feet from where she had fallen when the wind knocked her off her feet. She was lucky to have fallen at the right angle to keep from slamming her head into the wooden deck. She finally noticed Darren standing there, recording her.
“Are you going to help me or just keep recording?” Emily screamed as she put her hands out towards him.
“I can do both,” Darren replied as he stepped over and helped her to her feet, his phone in her face.
“What happened?” she asked, still in a daze. Then she noticed Brittney’s body. She screamed. “Brittney!”
“The thing chased her down,” Darren said, swallowing hard.
“I don’t want to know, Darren.” Emily could barely keep the tears at bay. “I want to go home. Now!”
“The car is back this way …”
“Let’s go.” Her words were high pitched, but Emily stopped, took in a breath, then finished in a regular tone. Tears tracked down the smudges of dirt on her face. “Around. I will walk around,” Emily said as she took a few steps away from the support of Darren.
“That’s a dead end now,” Darren replied as he continued to record her.
Emily stopped walking and slumped her shoulders before turning around. When she noticed Darren was recording her, she let out an angry “Stop!” and tried to walk to him. He laughed as he pranced in front of her, mocking each stumbling step before stopping and letting her catch up. When she did, he turned his camera off.
“Are you sure you don’t want to see what you missed?” Darren asked, teasing her with his phone.
Emily walked to the other side of the bridge, keeping her eyes focused on the metal supports as she hurried along. Darren followed her, but seconds after leaving the bridge, the phone was back in her face.
“How are you so calm?” Emily asked as they walked down the incline.
“I kind of shit my pants.” Darren looked back at her with raised eyebrows before shrugging and almost whispering, “And I froze.”
Emily could barely hold back a laugh for a moment before asking, “What was with the phone?”
“He just looked through me, and I knew he didn’t want me.” Darren stared at her, “And then I figured I should record it because no one would believe us.”
“I can’t believe the story was true,” Emily said as they stood where the car should have been.
“Right, who knew the Satanists actually summoned a demon?” Darren responded as he started to fidget with his phone again. “Where is it?”
“Derrick left us?” Emily leaned on the incline, “And if that was a demon, it would have killed anyone, right? I think the story about being judged off your bloodline is true.”
“What?” Darren snapped.
“I think Brittney had klansmen in her heritage.” Emily said matter of factly
“What the hell, Emily?” Darren yelled as he shakily pointed to the bridge.
Standing at the edge of the bridge was a beautiful ebony skinned woman, wrapped in an eerie white light, with her arms stretched out towards the teens. She whispered something that was then carried on the wind. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Mama.” Emily whispered uncomfortably to herself.

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. It was me, but there was something warped, and that was not me. I narrow my eyes and peer into the narrowing eyes of my deformed reflection. I was off, and while I could see it in my reflection, no one else could see it. At least no one acknowledges it.
Getting out of bed has become a chore. A chore I hate. After fifteen to twenty minutes of lying awake, staring at the ceiling and wishing I hadn’t woken up, I finally shift to the side of the bed, legs dangling down the four foot high drop to the floor.

Another five minutes of not wanting to move.

I am up and head to the bathroom. I pee then wash my hands. I see that twisted image staring back at me. He mocks me as I brush my teeth. He mocks me when I clean my ears. He mocks me any time I pass by his home, peering at me with those piercing dead eyes.
I try my best to forget him throughout the day. But then a mirror pops up in the wild, and I see him again. Whatever I am doing is no longer at the forefront of my thoughts. Instead, his repulsive demeanor glares in my mind’s eye, and I always pause. I stutter and stop, both physically and mentally, before switching to pushing that thought out of my mind. Now I have to readjust in order to finish my task.
Any reflection large enough causes this distress and makes my life harder. People must not see it, but if I try to tell them, whatever possible explanation I could fathom to explain the monstrosity would make me look insane. I have enough problems. Real problems. Not some silly imaginary one.
Friends and family don’t see it. Maybe they do and just don’t know how to help. Either way, I am alone in this fight against the deformed me staring at me at every chance. Sometimes, when I am feeling embarrassed or low for any reason, I can feel his eyes on me. I once again freeze, but now I look for his eyes and always find more than I can take. I then have to flee the situation, making up random nonsense to get out of life.
I often find myself sitting in the dark, all reflective surfaces covered in some fashion, staring into the abyss.

“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process, he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.” ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

I ponder what is actually gazing back, changing me, making that part a disgusting image I see even with no mirrors. I find myself mentally fighting an enemy that is part of me. And it is taxing because I always seem to barely get free of the grasp of the infinite darkness. I sometimes cry myself to sleep, fearing that sight in the bathroom mirror in the morning. I want to get away. I need to get away.
The next morning, I get up, with a pep in my step, and head to the bathroom. While the light is still off, I hurry and throw a towel over the mirror. Then the light comes on, and I am alone. I take a needed shower, having already removed the shaving mirror from its holder, and get some solace in solitude. I enjoy the hot water rinsing the grime off of me. Almost like a bit of the monstrosity is being washed away.
Several long minutes in the shower, and I come out feeling like a brand new man. I dry off and clean my ears and brush my hair without the help of a mirror. This day feels different from the previous days. Happier? Maybe, but either way, I was looking up for once. Life wasn’t a curse, and I almost forgot about my shadow-like enemy that waits for me in any reflection.
The mirror is revealed, and I was shocked into inaction. My reflection was even worse than I remembered, and it infuriated me. I ran at the mirror, raising my fists over my head. Slipping on the tile, I fall face first into the sink. I try to pull my arms down to break my fall, but instead, they smash into the mirror, shattering it. At first it seemed a great achievement, but when I finally sit up from the fall, I notice the stinging in my forearms is more dire than I first thought. I once thought I had a few shards of glass in my arms, and now I know my wrists and forearms are covered with deep lacerations, the blood pooling under me.
I now lie here, knowing the abyss has won. Whatever it had been, it had beaten me. I am rambling as the blood pours out of my arms, stealing my energy. My eyes get heavy, and I know this will be the last time I close them.

Where should I start? Some would say at the beginning, but my time is limited, and there is much to tell. Perhaps the most important detail, the one from which all others stem, is that I’m a telepath. The hard part was not reading people. It was shutting them out. I quickly leaped in grades and was learning advanced practices when I was eleven. People didn’t trust me not to pry in their mind’s when I got close, so despite them being witches and wizards, they avoided me. It was a good thing I would only be there for two years and get my masters in time, illusions, and healing.
People often called me stupid for not focusing on my natural power, but they didn’t know I could fully hypnotize adults at age seven. Telepathy was easy for me, and I didn’t need to know the technical names for things I had mastered. After school, I immediately got a job at a research laboratory on manipulating time. It was fulfilling until I realized that every breakthrough was given to large corporations to bastardize and sell it for a profit. I quit after I found out eight years later. A position at a startup business that made potions was available. I could speed up the cooking time on everything and was paid handsomely. Over the next 20 years, the company grew to the second largest in the world. I was ready to retire when a kingdom requested my services. They offered 3 times as much as the company, so I had to see what it entailed.
I now regret taking the job. The King started me off small by having me speed up their potion making, but by the end, where I am now, I may as well have been a necromancer. I didn’t bring anyone back, mind you, I just violated the law of autonomy. I sped up the lives of hundreds of babies to turn them into soldiers for the king. But I was in the King’s good graces, which made me untouchable. I am not so sure where the children came from, actually, but I never questioned them.
15 long years of loyalty to the crown, and I get this for a punishment! To wander this endless desert for the rest of my life. I did everything ever asked of me. I broke the law for every member of the royal family, and they gave me the traitors death. My wrists were branded, which blocked my magic, and I have been forced to find the long lost Temple of Time to retrieve the sun disk in the center. No one has ever returned.
There are 2 ways to find the temple. One is obviously with magic, but without it, you had to fast until you hallucinated the temple. Only then could you find the Temple of Time. Next, you entered a maze full of malevolent creatures meant for defense of the sun disk. If you are able to retrieve the disk and place it in the Temple of Illusions, the Temple of Time will become tangible. It could then be mapped out and eventually plundered.
I was given 3 days’ worth of rations and water, but I thankfully made them last for a week. I constantly walked, only taking breaks when the sun went down, and ended up nowhere. Just more sand and a bright sun beating down. I was primed to hallucinate after a few more days with no hydration, and as I topped the dune, my knees gave out, and I fell into the scorching sand and rolled down the other side of the dune.
When I stopped rolling, I was on my back, and there was nothing above me but clear blue sky. The hot sand was only so deep, then it was cool, and I was now partially submerged in it with my head poking out. It took me some effort to climb out of the sand, but I managed in my weakened state. Then I just laid there, on top of the sand. The sun would be setting soon so I decided to stay there for the night.
Despite being dehydrated and starving, I wasn’t hallucinating. If I could just reach the temple, I would find food and water, but it seemed I would never find it. There really wasn’t a temple, was there? At least, that’s what I started to believe. When I tried to continue walking my legs started to cramp and I fell again. This was when my depression hit, and I was convinced I wasn’t going to live for much longer.
A few hours turned into a day, and I was still alive. Still starving and even more dehydrated, but alive, so I decided to get back up. I stood as tall as I could and marched on towards nothing but more sand. I was in intense pain from head to toe as my legs propelled me further into the heat of the day. I didn’t know where I was going, and my body seemed to be on autopilot. I swear I passed out, and when I woke up, I was still marching in the sand. That’s when I realized this was my fate. My life before was the illusion. I was never there. I have always been here, in this endless desert, marching towards nothing, forever. Engulfed in the desert’s parched silence, I was nothing but another grain of sand in the wind.