The Harrowing (Part 1) – The Possession
This is the time of dressing up as monsters and ruining your teeth. Looking in the mirror and studying his reflection he can’t help but understand his makers expression when he’d announced he’s going out. He looks like a bad cliché. But hiding in plain sight had always been the best cover. With his long black coat with a high collar, blood red vest and various plastic chains that look decorative but don’t even jingle he resembles what an eights grader might think is a vampire. He shoved plastic teeth into his mouth and concentrates on not biting it into a unrecognizeable plastic mess.
The best part however is the medicine bag he’s carrying. It’s genuine and the blood packs in it are the same but no one would suspect a thing. To be on the safe side he stuffed two filled with tomato juice beside the real ones. To his eyes they have a slightly brighter hue and the texture of the fluid looks strange.
He strikes a pose flashing his teeth at the mirror then turns away from it oblivious to the shadow that had been lurking and waiting for its chance.
He draws breath to call for his maker but falters, what should he shout? “Agent Black” sounds too formal, “Kiwi” too personal and “Master” makes him tingly just thinking about it. He had been told a word once.. what was it. He turns around in thought and paces the bathroom. He could just walk out and look for him until he finds him but that seems weird now that he knows he forgot the very first lesson. He feels like a failure. He turns on the tab and splashes water on his face – he doesn’t need makeup to look pale.
He lets his forehead fall forward until it collides with the smooth and cold surface of the mirror. He had fully intended to raise his head immediately again, but feels unable to. Panic thrums through him when he can’t move any of his limbs and it skyrockets when suddenly he’s moving his head but it’s not him doing the moving.
Something cold creeps through his head, fingers scratching and hurting his very brain and he trashes against the hold, managing to startle whatever keeps hold of him into letting slip just a second. His fist goes flying into the mirror but it doesn’t even hurt.
Just as he thinks he’s won he’s suddenly feeling like he’s falling, his stomach going up and his mind going down and dizziness makes his eyes cross. He blinks.
“Finally.” He hears and he tries to regain conciousness but the dizziness still clings and he doesn’t see more than blurred darkness. “You sure are feisty, aren’t you?” Sitting up Jackson can feel coldness seep up to his waist. He’s sitting in water? Looking right, he sees himself but somehow he’s cut off and split into tiny shards. It’s his mirror he realizes. He cracked it and now he’s looking through.
“This does feels.. weird, though. Are you sick?” He can see himself sway and grab for the sink. “This is.. this is..”
And then he topples over and out of his view and Jackson’s left alone, sitting in mist that seems to grab at his clothes.
