I can’t begin to describe how absent his face seemed at first. The crater that existed in place of it was pulsing red, and every vein behind that thin sheet of scabbed skin pulsed as if his face was beating. Those ears dangling from the sides of his netted toupee appeared as two mounds of matter, the one on the left having a more humanly formation. The right ear had deflated down to the size of a battery, and the bandages failed to cover the dried puss that surrounded it.
But I remember the look on his face. And the chill that rushed down my spine as his eyes looked into mine. Those empty sockets had such depth to them, like two black holes swallowing the light that passed by.
All I could do was stare back.
Overwhelmed by my hand’s tight grasp, my legs had gone numb. I felt locked into place, as if my body had become one with the ground chair. The light reaching through the corners of my vision started to retreat. I knew nothing of the moment. Why was he gazing at me with such intense fury? Those goddamn eyes were teasing me.
And then he smiled. The fluorescent ceiling lights reflected off that devilish set within, and I was blinded momentarily. I focused on the increasing pulse in my neck, on my wrists, in my thighs, through my head – the feeling deterred my attention from the creature for a moment as I tried to calm the frantic beating in my chest, but it became so loud and obnoxious that the room began to echo the sound.
The door opened.
A woman in white said, “Mr. Feu? Let’s go.” I quickly stood up and regained consciousness in my legs, reminding them to lift off the floor with each stride.
As I walked out, I didn’t look back to see him follow me. I know he’ll show up again soon. My mother just bought me a new mirror for the bathroom after I smashed the last one.