My eyes open to the endearing crowd
watching me from all around, their faces barely visible in the
shadows. I try to move, to thank them for coming, but I'm bound to a
chair, gagged just as Trisha had been.
I hear footsteps on the wooden stage,
approaching me with a confident saunter. I turn my head to face the
source of the sound, my captor, to my right. But the face I see
grinning maliciously back at me is my own.
The figure claps slowly as he
approaches. “Did you have your fun torturing her?” he asks
without letting his smile drop. “Here in the theatre of your mind
you've put on the show of your dreams, but now the dream ends and the
nightmare begins.”
He pulls the hunting knife out from
behind his back, twisting it so it reflects the light onto my eyes.
His intentions are made clear immediately, as if they really were my
own. I try to break free, but I'm bound tighter than Trisha was.
My shadow chuckles at me and shakes
his head as he steps around me, the knife gently brushing against my
now frozen body. “Awe, what's wrong? Are you scared of what you've
brought on yourself?”
Another chuckle. Another shake of his
head.
“All this time you thought you were
exacting your revenge on her for what she did to you.” The tip of
the blade twists into my right shoulder. But you were to blame all
along. You beat her, yelled at her, and forbid her from talking with
her friends. You tore her apart until her only hope for survival was
to run.”
He thrusts the blade deep into my
shoulder. My blood pours from the wound as he pulls the knife back
out, the serrated edges tug on the soft flesh as it comes out. I
grunt in pain, unable to do anything else.
He puts a hand on my other shoulder
and points at the audience with the knife.
“In the end, we all must face our
demons.” He tells me.
The lights slowly raise on the
audience, illuminating their faces. A thousand identical faces stare
at us. And their faces are mine... But their eyes are gouged out, the
hollow crevasses oozing black blood. Their mouths are sewn shut.
Where their ears should be, only blood scabs remain.
“See no evil. Speak no evil. Hear no
evil.” He says as he pulls away and steps out in front of me. He
spins around and motions to the crowd behind him. “These are the
fragments of your humanity and this is what they've done to
themselves to cope with what you've done. For every time you hit her,
one of them gouged out their eyes. For every time you screamed at
her, one of them slices their ears off. And for every time you begged
for forgiveness and promised to change, but didn't, one of them sewn
their mouth shut. They did this until there were none left.”
He lunges forward and brushes the
knife against my face. He slips it underneath the rag gagging me.
“Now what do you say?” He pulls away, slicing the gag as he goes.
“I'm sorry!” I blurt out with all
too familiar tears. “I can change! I promise! Just give me another
chance!”
My shadow chuckles again and turns
away from me. “You sit before the jury of your own soul! Don't be
so foolish to think we'll believe your lies.” He spins around and
twists the blade in his hand. “We are the voices in your head that
cried for you to stop every time you raised your fist or your voice.
We are your conscience. We are your guilt. You have condemned
yourself to this fate. You cannot weasel your way out of this.”
“I swear I'll really change this
time! I can be better!” I plead as he steps towards me, knife in
hand. “Please... don't...”
My shadow spins around at my feet to
face the audience, the thousand mutilated versions of myself.
“What say you to this wretch's pleas
and promises? Shall I cut his bonds and let him return to the real
world?” He calls out to the audience.
Their sewn mouths rip open, blood
spurting forward, followed shortly after by agonizing screams. They
pierce my ears and fill me with the desire to rip my ears off in
hopes of ending the sound.
My shadow lifts a hand and suddenly
there's silence. He steps towards me and leans in. “That's the
sound of every time Trisha yelled for you to stop, cried out for
help, or screamed out in fear.” He whispers in my ear before
pulling back again. “There was once a time when you could have
changed things, but it is too late now. This is the end.”
He spins around to face the crowd.
From his mouth come the words I had planned for after Trisha:
“Ladies and gentlemen, this
concludes our show! It would appear our protagonist here could not
stave off the inevitable, judgment! Thank you for coming! I sincerely
appreciate your participation in our show! Now let the curtain close
and let us leave our protagonist to his fate!”
The thousand mutilated images of me
clap furiously as the curtain comes down between my shadow and I. He
looks back. As the curtain closes on me, shrouding me in eternal
darkness, all I see is his grin, my grin, in knowing justice has been
done.
-Zero
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