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To anyone reading this, please note that a killer is on the loose. He is not visibly killing others but they are dying because of him. By the end of this note, you will know how he broke loose and why I am unable to tell you in person.
My name is Rorrim. I’m 18 this year. I was raised without parents. Both of them died in a car accident a few months following my birth. My only brother moved to my aunt’s place shortly after their deaths but I was pushed away from the family due to one reason, which my brother told and proved.
I have an unnatural ability to read minds.
This must sound incredibly hard to believe. I know. But please, I beg of you, stay with me until the end of the note. I was unable to control this ability and since this ability came at the price of my physical strength whenever used, I was always weak and tired around people since I constantly received their thoughts involuntarily. I couldn't control it. It was like a functioning mechanism with a switch that always remained on, and I couldn't flick the damn thing off. Many may consider this power as a blessing. It's an amazing power after all. Breaking into the minds of others and uncovering their secrets. But to me, it was one of my greatest torments. Whenever I was near someone, it would immediately spark. I would receive a torrent of thoughts, emotions, and secrets I never asked for. The bus stop. The mall. The stalls. The toilets. And school. People everywhere, and waves after waves of unwanted information filled my mind, ripping apart the mental stability I held inside my small head. Worse still, my energy, my strength, it was all consumed at the cost of this torturous "gift". No, this power wasn't a blessing at all.
It was a curse.
Due to always being tired and weak along with my small stature, bullying was always imminent in school. I never had friends either. People were too busy back-stabbing me or bashing my puny frame against the table. Uproarious laughter would escape the masses as I acted as the other students’ way to relieve stress. Even the teachers wouldn't help. Years of bad-mouthing and framing from my classmates layered up to eventually form my infamous reputation among teachers. To them, I was the bad kid. And this meant whenever they couldn't find someone to blame for troubles that transpired in school, the accusing fingers would fall on me. I was the "sacrifice". My ability allowed me to read minds but what flooded into my head were thoughts like ‘’loser’’ and ‘’freak’’ and ‘’wimp’’. The teachers saw me as an object to pin things they did not want on, like potential stains on their record. Not a soul shared or understood my pain. My ability didn't help either, providing me the most obscene terms I could comprehend and I couldn't reject it, couldn’t shut it out. I had nobody to turn to. Night after night, as I laid on my rotting bed and stared at the ceiling, I would shut my eyes and make on wish, a wish for someone who understood and accepted me. Whom I could converse with. A person who could share my pain.
When I was 12, my wish was granted in a highly unusual way. It was a reflection in the mirror. To be specific, that person was me. I woke up as usual and walked to the bathroom to wash myself. As I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, I thought of looking at my pathetic form in the bathroom mirror. My lethargic body had ached from work and torture. I couldn't resist it. I had to see how I looked. And the person staring back at me in the mirror was completely identical. Of course, he was, he was my reflection. The disheveled hair, the sharp nose, the eye bags, the bony arms.... then it blinked.
My eyes were wide open, and I slowly lifted my hand to see if my reflection would do the same. but my reflection did not. It was a gradual process, but slowly, my reflection began to smile. The first emotions that struck me? I couldn't remember. Was it fear, shock, anger, I did not know, Maybe a mixture of all. But I did the only thing I could have imagined doing back then, and that was to continue staring, watching. Observing. And then it struck me. My mind, to be exact. I heard an incoming thought. The kind of stuff that would happen when I was near someone. Except this time, the thought appeared to have been intentionally sent to me.
"Hi, I'm Mirror."
What the hell? A breath hitched my throat, and I stayed quiet. A minute passed. Two minutes. Three, maybe. Then I spoke.
"You can speak. You're-"
The thought came into my mind again. So this is how he would communicate. By my mind. I almost chuckled at that.
"I'm your creation, Rorrim. I'm the person you wished so badly existed. I am the only person in the world who understands your pain and suffering, and accepted all of it. I am you’’
I furrowed my eyebrows. Could it be? No, I had to make sure. I had to test him.
"When was I born?"
"April 4, 1995."
"What's my dad and mom's name?"
"Davis and Jennifer"
"H...how did they die?"
"A car accident."
My mouth had grown agape. So it's real.
"What're you going to do to me?"
The smile on Mirror's face broadened.
"Nothing, Rorrim. I'm here to help you. I'm your friend. "
And for the first time. I felt my heart break free of the chains that held it down For once, I felt that somebody was there for me. The person I had yearned for all these years, the person I could seek comfort from. The person who would stick his hand out for me, and his name was Mirror.
I was ecstatic, like I was drunk in happiness and wanted to party all-day. However, I had school. So I quickly finished my daily preparations before going towards school As the day went by, I found out that anywhere I could see my reflection, Mirror was there. Whether it was a random glass panels on a stall or mirrors in public toilets, I saw Mirror and it was relieving. But the elation didn't last long.
Despite my new-found friend, I was again bullied in school. Freeton, the school’s idol with the good looks and girls, threw food at me during recess. The teriyaki sauce he had chucked at me soiled my uniform. To add on, I had to stay in the same accursed rags, because someone stole my extra set of uniform I kept for occasions like these. Adding on to the price of having that dreaded ability, I was hardly able to stay awake in class. After school had ended was the worst. The school's soccer team used me as a punching bag, and the torrent of strikes from the boys battered my already weak body into submission. I couldn't fight back due to the huge gap in physical strength and vitality. Their assault ended with smirks and sneers along with the usual thoughts of ‘’retard’’ and ‘’weakling’’. When I returned home, I was exhausted by the day of humiliation although I was long used to it.
"Are you okay?"
The thought rang in. It was Mirror.
"Er-yeah, I'm okay."
The inner me was crying in anguish, but I lied. Mirror saw through it anyway. Who am I kidding, he was me after all. I could feel warm arms that were not there embracing and comforting my body.
Somehow I knew it was Mirror. I went to sleep shortly after.
The next morning, Mirror said that he would show me something cool. I did as he asked and put my palm on the glass window and Mirror did the same, our hands joined through the glass and I could feel his cold fingers interlock with mine. Suddenly, I was pulled into the window and before I knew it, I was looking into my room, at my body. What I saw stared back at me. Mirror. He was inside my body!I was terrified and started to panic, which Mirror noticed.
"Calm down Rorrim!" Mirror laughed heartily. "Today, I will teach those mean bullies a lesson for you’’
I followed my body like an entity, somehow being shifted in such a way that I would be where Mirror will look into me at a place he could see his reflection, such as a glass panel or a nearby mirror. I watched as Mirror went through my daily routines as if he had always done it himself and honestly, it felt weird. As Mirror was going around his business with me watching him intently, he sent a thought into my mind.
"Don't sleep. Don't ever, ever fall asleep."
"Huh? Why not?"
"You won't wake up."
Strangely enough, I knew he was serious and I would be in deep trouble if I did fall asleep.
That morning, when Mirror arrived in school, I saw three muscular boys surround Mirror. They were the burly sort, with their scowls and body language so I knew they meant trouble. It was the typical things they would usually do to me in the morning. One guy started shoving Mirror to the other. Then he started getting shoved around the three boys. Nobody stopped to intervene of course. The crowd just enjoyed the show that was being put up for them. I felt my stomach lurch. Mirror was getting pushed around ... in replacement of me. For me.
Then the craziest thing happened. Right after the seventh or eighth shove, one of the guys stopped dead in his tracks. The other 2 froze too. Mirror’s lips curled in delight as though he knew what was going to happen next and was enjoyed watching how it played out. Suddenly, all three boys did handstands. They began to holler vulgarities and the audible gasp that escaped from the crowd slowly transformed into laughter. And the three slowly began to walk, while on their hands, towards the General Office. All the while yelling curses.
"Holy shit..." I felt myself mumble as I watched the evolving hilarity.
Mirror threw me a glance and a wink.
"Like what you see?"
"It's my power. I have the ability to command people, unlike your ability to read minds. I can shove my orders into their heads, and they'll forcefully obey it. Unlike you, I can control it." he whispered.
As the day went by, many incidents like the first in the morning happened. Freeton, who was about to throw a pie at Mirror, suddenly tore off his clothes and skipped to the middle of the canteen, singing nursery rhymes, nude and all. Some people around him watched in horror, while others were in stitches. Mr Klein, who enjoyed berating me for no damn reason in class, suddenly slapped himself in the face and tore his textbook into pieces when he tried to send Mirror out of class. I could not tell if he distinctive red marks that slowly covered his face were caused by the slaps or his embarrassment of becoming a laughing stock in front of his class for the first time.
In a nutshell, I saw Mirror humiliate those who humiliated me. It was like karma. That night, Mirror returned me to my own body and I felt tears of gratitude well up in my eyes.
"Thanks, man. Just ... thank you."
"No problem, Rorrim. If those pricks ever try to lay a finger on you, you tell me and I'll deal with them."
It didn't seem like it would have happened any time soon, though. Everyone had probably received the message that I was not to be messed with after that spectacle. My life, for the first time ever, began to slowly develop positively. I made friends with Patrick. He was nice and he told me he was a former bully victim, so we had conversed a ton. After a while, Patrick felt like a brother. He was a best friend. And then I met Cassie. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. We chatted a bit, and it just got off from there. We laughed together, we watched a movie together and that was where I made my first kiss. It was one of the best moments of my life. I had a girlfriend, a best friend and immunity from all those who ruined my life. Whenever I was weak from the draining ability of hearing others’ thoughts, they would be there to support me. Life looked like it had taken a turn for the better. I thought it was true, and as Cassie rested her head on my shoulder somewhere on the bench, I spotted my reflection on a glass panel of a shop. Mirror was smiling back at me, glad that I had found happiness. I felt genuinely pleased to be alive. Satisfied. Nobody would bully me anymore. I'm a strong, happy man now.
Or so I thought.
Everything changed. 6 years later, on one afternoon, what I had presumed to have been the past caught up with me.
"PATRICK! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!!"
I shouted in agony as he rammed his fist up my back of and pushed me to the ground using the momentum. 6 years had passed. 6 years of bonding in relationship with Cassie. 6 years of friendship with Patrick. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed another boy grab Cassie, clamping her hand over her mouth and pinning her against the wall. Whatever she had tried to scream had softened to a muffled cry. The shock that had passed through me instantaneously turned to fury.
We had been shopping. Me, Patrick and Cassie. Cassie lost her wallet, and Patrick brought us to a dark alley behind the shopping mall. "I think I know where it is" he said. I turned around and the punch came.
As I yelled and screamed, I noticed four figures emerging from behind the dumpsters. I clenched my fists. The light spilled in as they came out of the shadows, revealing a tall boy with three other boys behind him.
"I swear, if you do anything to Cassie I will fucking m-"
"Shhh..." Freeton whispered in a hushed tone. He turned to Patrick, who was still pinning me to the ground.
"Good job, Patrick. I'll pass you the money later, as promised."
My eyes shifted up and my vindictive glare began to focus on Patrick. I couldn't say anything. My mouth opened, but the sound that came out were a meaningless jumble of gurgles from the shock. All I tasted were blood and dust. Patrick had betrayed me. A friend of 6 years. And he had just back-stabbed me. Freeton slowly walked to Cassie, whose stifled screams began to turn to sobs. He ran his fingers down her neck, like how a snake would slither along a tree.
"You're a lucky man, Rorrim." He murmured.
"A very lucky man."
Then he began to tear off her shirt. The enclosed screams of terror, torment, fear, pain came crashing down like a rain of bullets on me. The three other boys closed in, converging on her like lions closing in on their prey. Then Freeton began starting on her skirt.
I screamed for Freeton to stop.
I screamed, wishing Freeton's entire family to be damned to hell.
I screamed that I would murder him.
I screamed and begged for him to stop.
I struggled with all my might, but Patrick pinned me down well and good. The tears of sorrow that flowed down Cassie's cheeks were torture devices. Devices I was forced to hear. Her pleas were not answered and would never be. Freeton never stopped, and neither did the three boys. Cassie's scream of terror and pain pierced through the air like a bullet as it flew out of the barrel of the gun, except in this case it was mishandled as it was dismantled to pieces. I shut my eyes as I felt tears slowly coarse down.
When they were done, Cassie's body sagged against the wall like a carcass. She looked devoid of life ... an empty shell.
"The fun has just begun, boys!" Freeton yelled as he zipped his fly and brandished what appeared to be a Swiss Army knife. I could feel Patrick's grip on me grow tighter. The other three took out similar looking knives and bent down. I struggled, twisted, but I couldn't escape Patrick's death grip. It was like being clamped by iron chains. He started by tearing off my shirt. Then he stuck the first knife in. Freeton stabbed me in the back, and slowly began to work his way around.
He was carving me.
A horrendous scream escaped me and I struggled furiously. The futility of the attempt was expressed through the pain that shot through my body. Patrick never let go. And the pain ... it was excruciating. The other began to do the same. My leg, my hand ... my scalp. All the while, the pain that enveloped me was unbearable. I felt more tears run down as I hollered with threats. They were empty threats, at most. As each knife cut across my body, the blood from my wounds ran down, the crimson red slowly staining the ground and Patrick's hands. I slowly felt myself drift from consciousness. My vision grew foggy, the pain that encompassed my being ran through my body, refusing to leave. I felt it. The menacing thoughts that rang through my mind, the ricocheting words thundered loudly. The sadistic thoughts they held seeped into my mind as my very sanity was challenged.
This was hell. I was being carved up like a statue being carved out from a rock. However, I was a rock that could feel pain and a rock that could feel every incision that entered me. However, I was a rock like any other rock, one that couldn’t move. The combination of the blinding pain and the mental torture was too much, so much I nearly lost consciousness multiple times. I felt like my grip on life was quickly slipping away. The scars that will be left behind as a reminder would be plentiful. I could tell that Freeton really wanted me to remember this day and was working to make sure there was a scar on every inch of my body.
When they had finished, I was completely soaked in the blood I had let out. The crimson stains covered my entire body and I laid in the puddle of red. I was barely breathing as I stared up at the azure sky.
"That's enough. Let's get the hell outta here."
I heard the footsteps, each one growing more and more distant. Then I noticed Cassie. She was still slumped against the wall, her half-dead body laying lifelessly there. I was finally alone with her. And I heard one, final thought spring up in my mind.
"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you Rorrim. I'm sorry..."
This was the last straw. Using whatever energy I could muster, I crawled to a steel rubbish bin, making out a tiny glint of reflection on the surface. I screamed. I screamed for Mirror as the pain punctured my lungs. My consciousness was slowly drifting away. My head slumped, and I slowly placed my palm onto the surface, feeling the cold skin interlock with me.
"Kill them, Mirror..."
I had no idea how much time had passed when I woke up. My bleary eyes tried hard to receive whatever scene had greeted me. And then I saw what had happened. A scene that could make anyone fall into madness. I couldn't bear to absorb it, but I had to. I had created this ... I wanted this. Freeton was lying on one corner. His face had been mutilated beyond recognition, and the only way I recognized him were by his lifeless blue eyes and golden hair. They were caked in blood. What appeared to be his intestines were strewn across the top of his body - his stomach had been slit. Other organs were sloppily laid out across the ground. His neck bore a long slit that exposed the white bone inside. It had been dislocated. His face was the worst. His mouth had been slit in a jagged manner to form a wide smile. One half of his face was untouched, but the other half had its skin ripped off and I could Freeton’s eyeballs sitting in the sockets and the flesh surrounding it. It was like the human anatomy figure’s head, one part with skin and the other had none, revealing the muscles in the face. What was shocking about the face’s display was how cleanly it was done and how the face was put in a mad smile. It didn’t look like Freeton was forced to smile as there were no bruises on half with skin.
Standing above this display of gore was a figure clad in jeans and a hooded jacket. The figure seemed to be able sense my presence and when he turned around, I saw my own face with its blank look I was so familiar with. However, there were still the scars from that day on my face. It was Mirror who did this.
"First one?" I asked with my scratchy throat.
I immediately assumed the first three to be Freeton’s trio of minions and Mirror confirmed my assumption by saying I was correct.
Despite being witness to such a scene, I was unfazed by it. I had caused this and I knew it. However, I did not regret the decision. I was already sick with the world I was living in. Even if I came back, I would never be looked the same way, probably even worse.
They did this to me.
"Give ... give Cassie a quick death."
"You're planning to go after all?"
I stared at my wounds. I stared at the memory of Cassie's lifeless body.
Mirror's face was contorted in what appeared to be a sad expression. He was heart-broken at my decision to leave.
"I'll miss you, Rorrim."
I laughed. I've never heard that phrase ever uttered in my entire 18 years living in this shithole of a planet.
"Hasten your work speed, Mirror. Then you can join me on the other side. After all, I’ll never be complete without you."
After that, Mirror turned away and started to walk out. I felt my strength seeping away and knew that there was no turning back now. I felt my body grow lighter ... almost as if I was transcending into another form. It was time to atone for my sins and join those who fell into the depths of despair. It was finally time to leave this wretched world...
Time to leave my other self.
Author's note: This was a collaboration work made by my friend Damian and me. He does not have a Creepypasta account.
Written by PrimalES