Shattered Reflections

Desperate to find a way to alleviate my torment, my parents, Jonathan and Amelia, decided to seek professional help. We scheduled an appointment with Dr. Michelle Turner, a renowned therapist known for her expertise in unraveling the complexities of the human mind.

Entering Dr. Turner's serene office, my heart pounded with a mix of apprehension and hope. The calming artwork on the walls and the soft glow of the room offered a semblance of comfort amidst the storm raging within me.

Dr. Turner listened attentively as I shared the haunting experiences that tormented my mind—the relentless hallucinations, the man in the bloody hospital clothes, and the blurring lines of reality.

With empathy in her eyes, Dr. Turner nodded. "Asher, what you're going through is undoubtedly challenging. These hallucinations seem to have a profound impact on your well-being. We will work together to explore the roots of these experiences and find a path towards healing."

Weeks passed as I delved into therapy sessions, delving into the recesses of my mind in search of answers. Dr. Turner employed various techniques, encouraging me to confront my fears and engage with the hallucinations in a controlled environment.

During one particularly intense session, I immersed myself in an exercise to visualize my fears. It was then that the familiar figure of the man in the bloody hospital clothes materialized before me. His twisted smile cut through the air, sending shockwaves of terror through my fragile psyche.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of the encounter, my consciousness faltered, and I succumbed to the darkness, losing all sense of time and place.

As the days passed, the weight of my mental battles settled heavily upon me, draining my energy and clouding my thoughts. With tired eyes, I sat at my desk in the classroom, the hum of voices and the monotonous drone of the teacher's lecture fading into a distant blur.

Suddenly, in the midst of my weariness, something changed. The air in the room grew heavy, and as I heard the classroom door open, I turned to see a chilling presence stepping into the room, casting an eerie shadow over the mundane setting. My heart skipped a beat as I fixed my gaze on the front of the classroom.

There, standing beside the teacher, was the man in the bloody hospital clothes. His pale complexion and twisted smile sent shivers down my spine. It was the same man that had tormented me for weeks, but this time, something was different. The once-private hallucination had transcended the confines of my perception—it was now visible to everyone in the classroom.

"What is this!?"

"Who is this person!?"

"He's scary!"

Gasps of shock and disbelief echoed through the room as students recoiled in fear, their eyes locked on the sinister figure before them. My friends, stunned by the sudden appearance of the hallucination, rushed to my side, their faces etched with concern and determination.

"Don't be afraid, calm down!"

The teacher, initially frozen in disbelief, quickly regained composure and sprang into action, urging the students to remain calm and maintain order.

As the man in the bloody hospital clothes stood before the classroom, his presence a tangible embodiment of malevolence, he wore a smile on his face and said, looking directly at me, "It's time to come with me."

Hearing the man's words, the teacher and my classmates, their faces etched with a mixture of fear and determination, formed a protective barrier, shielding me from the clutches of the sinister figure.

"We won't let you take him!" the teacher's voice rang out, a defiant proclamation that reverberated through the room. The students, fueled by collective strength, joined in unison

, their unified voices a chorus of defiance that defied the grip of terror.

Looking at this scene, the man's smile widened—a twisted display of delight that sent chills down my spine. His eyes gleamed with an eerie satisfaction, his aura exuding a palpable darkness. "So you haven't let them go yet," he mused, his voice dripping with an unnerving combination of amusement and anticipation. His words hung in the air like a sinister premonition, casting an ominous shadow over the classroom.

Turning his gaze from the resilient group, the man fixed his unsettling smile upon me, his eyes piercing into the depths of my soul. "In a way, I'm happy to meet them again," he whispered, his voice laced with an unnerving combination of amusement and anticipation.

Then, with a sudden burst of movement, the man dispersed from his place, his form blurring in the air. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared beside the teacher, a chilling smile on his face. In a swift and brutal motion, he punched the teacher, striking him with a force that sent shockwaves through the room, and launched sparkles of blood scattered in the air.

"Koh!" the teacher gasped, a pile of blood spilling from his mouth as his consciousness gradually faded away.

Looking at the teacher crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath, as a pool of blood formed around him, the students fell to the ground in shock and horror, their faces drained of color.

My vision blurred, and my knees weakened as I also fell to the ground, my face drained of color.

"Oh! I really enjoyed that!" The bloody man mumbled with a smile on his face as he looked at the lifeless body at his feet. Then, he turned directly towards Emma, who was beside me, and said, "You're here too!"

With supernatural speed, the man reached Emma's spot and swiftly trapped her by the neck, lifting her into the air.

"No! Let me go!" Emma pleaded, her voice choked with fear, as the man's vice-like grip tightened, cutting off her air supply.

"Emma!!" Ignoring my trembling limbs and the gnawing fear in my heart, I lunged toward the man with a primal scream. "Let her go!". No matter how hard I punched or how fiercely I fought, my efforts were futile against the man's supernatural strength.

Suddenly, feeling annoyed by my screaming, the man looked down on me. The smile that always adorned his face disappeared, and With a cold expression, "You are pathetic," he sneered, tightening his grip on Emma's neck. In a horrifying twist, the man applied more pressure, and a sickening crack filled the air as Emma's life was abruptly taken from her.

With tears streaming down my face, I crumbled to the ground, my spirit shattered and my emotions drained. I watched helplessly as the man continued his rampage, wielding a broken metal leg from a desk and delivering merciless blows to my friends and classmates.

The classroom became a scene of unspeakable horror, filled with the agonizing screams of my peers and the man's sadistic laughter. I, paralyzed by fear and grief, could only bear witness to the massacre unfolding before my eyes.

As the man approached me, his expression devoid of mercy, a sense of resignation washed over me. I was unable to move, my muscles paralyzed by the weight of my trauma. With a swift and merciless strike, the man plunged the metal leg into my body, causing searing pain to surge through my veins.

Pain coursed through my veins as I crumpled to the ground. The world around me faded into darkness as my vision blurred, my consciousness slipping away. Through the haze of agony, I caught one final glimpse of my fallen friends, their lifeless bodies strewn across the classroom. Tears welled in my eyes as I embraced the abyss.