The Men in the Mirror

“What are you scared of, son? Why do you feel the need to hide? To Run?”

“Are you afraid of the demons in the dark? Something unknown lurking out far?”

“Let me tell you that’s just your imagination. It’s just your brain playing games with you.”

“I am telling you now. What you see is not real. It’s just something that your mind is showing you”

“There are only hallucinations. No Ghosts exist in this real world. These are no demons that you see.”

“So, don’t be afraid now. Don’t give in. Be brave. Hold my hand. Come back into the light with me”

“Doctor, Oh Doctor, are you my savior? Have you come here to help me? To give me your hand? And pull me out of this wretched misery”

“Well, thank you for that!!”

“But you talked about the mind, about hallucinations and about reality.”

“You talked about light, about darkness and demons.”

“It’s an interesting idea you have put into my mind. Let me contemplate it for a moment. Let me share my thoughts with you.”

“Ah, my dear Doctor, let me tell you about Darkness. You know, Darkness is darker, much darker than you think. The word DARK itself, gives me the creeps.”

“Darkness is absence of light, absence of warmth, absence of feeling, emotions, hope, bliss, tranquility, comfort.”

“Darkness is a black hole, a depressive, claustrophobic place. A place with no existence. No walls, corners, edges or boundaries.”

“The laws of Physics, mathematics and logic don’t apply in the dark. Hence, I conclude, it’s a place that is not of this earth. Would you agree?”

“In the depths of darkness, it’s like being in a well of quick sand, submerged under, with your eyes open, but with nothing to see. Suffocating. Gasping, Grasping for breath. A heaviness which is exceeded only by its nothingness.”

“Believe me doctor, the demons are the least of your worries in that dark void. In fact, they are welcome because it’s a comfort to know that someone else is there with you… even if it’s a demon.”

“But unfortunately doctor, there is no one in the dark. No one to talk, no one to feel and no one who cares. The only demon in the darkness is ME and MY Damned Soul.”

“Also, doctor you talked about reality. So, it makes me wonder now, what is the nature of this reality?”

“When I was a boy I read that reality is what your mind shows you. The light travels through the eyes and paints a picture in the brain. That is what we perceive as reality. But who is to tell if that picture is real? Can YOU definitely say it? Can I definitely say it?”

“For instance, right now, do you think all this is real? Are you sure it’s not a figment of your imagination? A vivid dream through which you might wake up with a start and find yourself in your bed?" 

"Or maybe you will wake up 20 years younger in your college dorm room, after a night of heavy binge drinking.”

“This room, this table, that clipboard in your hand? Is it all real? Are you sure of that? Are you sure it’s not a perceived reality induced by that little pill you put on your tongue at your beach party this evening?”

“These grey walls, that huge one-way mirror on the wall, this asylum. Is it real? And what about me? Am I real, doctor? Or are you just experiencing one of your schizophrenic episodes?”

“Look at yourself, doctor, in that mirror on the wall and tell me what you see.”

“I promise to listen to you. But don’t give me your hand. I might NOT be able to save you”

“Look in the mirror, doctor. In reality, I am the doctor and you are the patient. Look and accept it. That’s the first step YOU will take to save YOURSELF from the demons in YOUR head.”

“Identify the nature of reality, doctor.”

And the doctor looked.

As the first second ticked in his wrist-watch, the doctor looked into the mirror and he saw himself in the patient’s green clothes. The reflection of the man standing on the other side of the table was that of a doctor, wearing a white coat, carrying a clipboard.

As the second second ticked, the doctor felt amazed, marveling at this trick his mind had played. Why was he dressed like the patient? Was it true, everything the other man said?

In the Third second, the patient lifted his chair above his head and brought it down with a heavy crash into the doctor’s bald scalp, killing him instantly.

The doctor writhed, but he felt no pain. Only his life seeping out through his body, enveloping him in a darkness that was suffocating, submerging, weightless, yet infinitely heavy. And then he felt peace, for the first time in his life.  

The patient smiled faintly, for he had successfully accomplished his task. He had used his power to look into the doctors mind and memories and trick him into seeing what he wanted him to see. It had given him enough time to kill the wretched pig, who had been giving him those drugs that made him feel sleepy. But he was happy that the drugs had not unsharpened his gift. 

But he also knew there will be consequences for his little stunt. THEY must be racing right now to come inside this room and pin him down. THEY will put him back into solitary confinement and increase his medication. He will start getting the head-splitting migraine from using too much of his power.

But he told himself to stay sharp and concentrate. Rest a bit and start thinking of how to get out of this asylum, before THEY figure out how to use his gift as a weapon.  

5 Horror Short(est) Stories

Story # 1

While driving back home that night, my favorite song came on the radio and without thinking I started singing along. 

It was only when the singer started singing in a screechy voice, did I realize that I had not switched on the Radio.

Story # 2

She was walking down on a lonely road at night, when the four drunkards started following her with a malicious intent. 

The next morning only one of them was found in the dumpster, dead, his body turned blue and bite marks on his neck.

Story # 3

I always feel fresh after taking a shower, but I also feel hungry and so I decided to make a sandwich for myself. 

But then I remembered that I did not have the knife, as I had left it stuck in my wife’s neck.

Story # 4

A weirdly dressed man appeared in the middle of the expressway and met with a brutal accident and died. 

The police found a piece of clear, highly polished round glass in his pockets, with an inscription - "Google Time Machine”.

Story # 5

If you ever go to the Overlook Hotel and see little Twin Girls waving at you, don’t wave back. 

I did that yesterday and last night they killed me.




(Short Horror Stories written by me.)

Thoughts on a Dark Night

The city sleeps under my feet. It’s dark and unusually quiet. Only the soft night breeze makes a low, sinister, moaning sound. Like a corpse calling. It’s a humid sticky summer night, but the breeze is cool and it’s calming my frantic nerves.

It’s at nights like these that my mind tends to wander, trying to get out of my control. 

And it should. 

Because it needs sleep and it needs rest. It’s been 3 days since I have slept and there is nothing in this world that I won’t give up, right now, to be able to sleep. Just for some time.

Well, this self-inflicted torture in not new to my body or my mind. 

In the past, I have bruised myself, suffered concussions, broken my ribs, burnt myself, almost got myself killed a few times, lost my loved ones and suffered immeasurable sorrow.

So, why have I endured all this pain and suffering, you ask?

I believe it’s for a greater purpose. To save people. Save mankind from evil disguised as good and from evil menacing as evil. The world is full of sorrow, grief and madness and I believe I have to do whatever I could to help the people who are helpless.

Because there was a time when I was helpless.

The night that my parents died on the cold black streets and all I could do was watch, as the living breath escaped from my mother’s body, as the heart stopped its rhythmic beating in my father’s chest. On that dark, cold night I watched them die.

That night I felt fear, I felt shame, I felt helplessness and I never wanted to feel it again. I never wanted anyone to feel it again.

That is why I became what I am.

Often these days, I wonder if I made the wrong choice that night and chose the wrong path. Often these days, I imagine myself going back home that night and taking charge of my father’s company. Making him proud. Becoming a good man, a good businessman, maybe a cop or a senator. Help my city and my country in a different way. A different way.

But then again, my mind becomes muddled and it asks questions I cannot answer. Did I really have a choice that night? Could I really choose a path that I wanted to take? Or did the path choose me?

Writhing to have my revenge on the guy who killed my parents, I followed him down those mean streets, dark like a serpent’s hole. I came upon thousands of guys like him. Guys who felt no regret, no remorse to plunder, kill and rape. Naturally, I tried to stop them and as I did, I kept getting dragged further and further down that hole. Until, I myself became darkness.

So again, did I choose to go down that path? I guess I no longer know or care. I guess like most defeated people, I have accepted my fate. I have accepted who I am and what I have become. Like most other people, I imagine and hope that I had become someone else, but I can’t go back and change things now, for I have come too far from that fork in the road.

Whatever choices I have made, whether by free will or pre-destined, I have to live with them. No one else can understand what I am going through and no one really cares. 

I alone have to endure this pain. 

I alone will have to persevere and sacrifice. 

Perched on this rooftop on this skyscraper on this dark night, I alone will have to walk my path. Because I alone am Batman. 

Short Story - The World against me.

I sit at my desk and start my laptop. It instantly connects to the internet via my super fast Wifi network. Smokin.. I click on the Chrome browser and type in www.facebook.com. Chrome’s intuitive search reads my mind and even before I complete typing the address, opens facebook. Wow!!Technology..

 I have logged in to upload a new profile picture which I clicked today. It is a selfie - me sitting at the window on the local train, aviator sunglasses reflecting the zig-zag mesh of the window, hair flying in the air, a crooked smile on my lips. I am looking menacing. I have further edited it and made it black-and-white. Gangsta style.

I select the option for uploading the picture and upload it. I also add a smart title to the picture. It says “Living the Gangsta life”.

My high speed internet connection quickly uploads the picture and almost immediately one of my friends likes it. I scroll down on the window and review what others have posted. I like some of the posts and comments on others. I see some videos and laugh and generally have a nice time.

Over the next 15 minutes, several of my friends have liked my picture. Some of them have also commented

“Go gangster”

“Looking Awesome”

“Nice pic. Cool glares”

I like all the comments posted by my friends. A smile is playing on my lips. I am on a roll. I wiggle my fingers and hover them over the keyboard as I think. I want to add some other interesting status to my wall.

After a second, I type “The train was completely empty today and I was enjoying the ride and my music. Was interrupted by a beggar kid and was so annoyed!!!”

Again, as expected, my friends start liking my comment.

 “These beggars are such a nuisance. Someone should do something about them.” first comment.

 “You were able to resist yourself? Good!! I would have just kicked his ass. Lol”

“Don’t let anything come in the way of ur music, Dude. Just take a chill pill”

I quickly “like” all the comments and check who is online on the messenger.

There is a small ping sound. Someone else has liked my status. I smile again and click on the notifications icon to see who it is and what they have written.

“Don’t you think its unfair that a poor kid was begging and was out of school while you were enjoying music and relaxing. And above that you are complaining like a kid. Grow UP!!!”

My mouth falls open. Its one of the geeks in my class and I don’t like him too much. Why is he even my friend on facbeook?

Dude, I was not the reason why the kid was begging. I was minding my own business and the little bastard distressed ME!!! For all I know, he is a drug addict using the money he collects from begging to dope. He is probably linked to a begging mafia which cuts kids limbs and makes them beg. I am not gonna encourage these kind of things by giving money to them. Neither am I supposed to do anything for these guys. They owe their existence to themselves.

I think for some time. I do not want to write all this tirade on my wall status. What will others think about me? That I am a egotistical megalomaniac? I also don’t wanna admonish the geek who has provided the “negative” comment. He is entitled to his opinion.

The safest way is to “like” the comment and leave it at that.

And that’s what I do.

I logout of facebook and login to youtube.

Some guy from somewhere has posted a short video of a film he made. I watch the film, but quickly get bored. My thoughts veer back to my facebook status and the idiot who made me look bad online. I “unlike” the video and comment on it

“What a piece of crap..where are you from ass***, Somalia??”.

I go to the news site and read an article about the search for the missing Malaysian plane. I don’t even like that geek guy. He hardly knows me. What right he has to comment on my thoughts? I scroll down and comment

“What are the idiots doing? Is it that difficult to find a plane???. Ridiculous!!”

I go to a photo upload site and watch some photos. I have to get back to Mr. Geek. what does he think of himself?? Comment “What bad photos. My sweeper can click better snaps with his Nokia Asha Phone”

Film review site comment “The film sounds pretty bad..just like all films of this director”

Every site, every where I comment “Bad” “Cant get worse” “Bull!!!” “Shit” “Crap” “Fuck” and I go on and on.

I am enjoying this. Its my way to get back to the world. I am forgetting about the FB comment and Mr. Geek.

I am grinning like a fool, but I am not realizing it. Unknown to me, my shadow cast by the light of my laptop behind me on the wall has grown horns on my head and a pointed tail.