[ST] The Show

Name : Azhann Rosmin
Class : LGB3A
Semester : 3
Title : The Show
Word Count : 1900 words
Category : Story

No one – not even his very own mother – knew what had befallen Rick Evans that night. The policemen searched his room to no avail and with rehearsed tones did they say to her, “We couldn’t find him, ma’am.”

Rick was a teenage boy with an addiction to ghost stories. He found the feeling of being scared silly by these paranormal experiences and fiction tantalizing. To an extent, he never found himself not wishing he could experience the things the people on those stories do. He kept wishing he did. And by some unnatural means, he got what he wished for.

It was late at the night. Rick was alone in his bedroom with his laptop propped neatly in front of him on the floor. He was on one of those sites where people would post their personal experiences with the occult and the paranormal. He was shaking a little but he liked it. He enjoyed it like some kind of exhilarating drug.

He was on his 7th story of the night and as he finished reading the last sentence (usually the scariest one), he shuddered and grinned. He left the lights off of the room earlier to add to the frights he would get. He didn’t worry. He wasn’t even afraid of the dark. He should have.

The most recent story he read was about cats and mirrors. He found out that cats have similar eyesight to human beings. But they have numerous extra receptors. This leads them to be able to see almost clearly in darkness as they see in a brightly lit room. This superior sense adds to many others that makes cats close-to-perfect predators.

The post continued about mirrors – of how they reflect the images of us and at times show things that are not to our liking. ‘Are they really?’ was the first among a few questions enlisted in the post. Are mirrors actually showing us what we see? Rick remembered reading one post about how a man tried to wipe off a fingerprint from his bathroom mirror. Upon the end of his unsuccessful wipes, only then he found out that it was imprinted on the other side. That post made him go frightful every time he faced a mirror. But again, he liked it.

The post questioned its readers whether have they tried making a cat look straight into a mirror before. When tried, cats usually avert their gazes away from the mirrors. “Ever wondered why?” it asked.

There seemed to be whispers and talk about how cats can see things through mirrors, the post continues. -Rick was half excited when reading this - But scientists all over claimed that cats only dislike the reflection caused when light bounces off the mirrors – in regards to their predatory sight. As so, the claim that cats can ‘see’ was shrugged off.

Rick thought about it. He tried making one of his cats look into a mirror once before but in a playful manner – never serious. He decided, while he was thinking about the post, that he wanted to try again and wait and see of what might happen. Maybe a ghost would show itself, he wished. He shouldn’t have.



He didn’t even bother turning the lights on to his bedroom as he exited to the stairs and towards the living room. The grandfather clock standing tall in the living room chimed timely as he reached downstairs. ‘Whoa, must be lucky! Perfect timing!’ he thought. It was close to 3 a.m.

He paced slowly across the dark living room, trying to find one of his cats. “Come, Snickers. We have a mirror to look at.”

The living room was still like the furniture it held. The windows were black, impersonating the darkness outside. The floorboards were timidly creaking in harmony with his well-placed sneak. Apart from enjoying a fright, Rick enjoyed giving a few – to his mother, brothers, and especially his cats. And that was his plan as he prowled in search for it.

He heard a faint hiss from somewhere near where he was standing. ‘That must be Snickers.’ Rick didn’t give a second thought of why his cat was awake at close to 3 a.m. He should have.

He remembers reading about a ritual that can be done on specific dates of the year – Christmas, New Year’s Eve, and Easter are a few. The ritual is to be performed on the Unholy Hour – 3 a.m. At the thought of it, he quickens his pace around the armchair to find his cat on all fours, looking directly at nothing. ‘Come to Papa.’

He brought Snickers up to his room, closed the door, and sat in front of the mirror. The mirror was full-length and slightly tilted upwards. He then grabbed the lower part of it and positioned it as such that it focused upon the two of them. And with the laptops screen acting as a small source of light he waited.

As expected, Snickers didn’t look at the mirror. Rick could only see himself grinning and holding on to his cat. But there was something odd about the reflection. It seemed the room reflected in the mirror is somehow darker. Rick shrugged it off as to inadequate lighting. O, how wrong was he.

He waited and waited. He tried making the cat look directly into the mirror but couldn’t hold the stare for longer than two seconds. He stayed with his cat in that position – in front of the mirror, not moving. After an hour, he gave up and said, ‘Maybe I should try it again on New Year’s Eve or something.’

He got up, rubbed sleep sand from his eyes, and turned on the lights.

His cat immediately hissed and was on all fours – on its very claws and its fur on ends. It froze that way for thirty seconds and then became calm. It made its way to the mirror and stared directly into it – keeping a fair distance from it. It didn’t move afterwards.

Rick was scared to his very bones. He was enjoying it as well. He couldn’t move but he kept forcing himself to. Eventually he got near to his cat.

He slowly lowered himself and at the last moment, his cat jumped straight at the mirror with its claws outstretched.

Rick gave a little upward jump and fell backwards.

Snickers ran through his room chasing a fly that was idly minding its own business on the mirror before.

He gave a small chuckle and went to grab his cat – that was playing with its catch near the mirror. He held up his cat and playfully called it naughty for scaring him. After messing with its fur, he realized he was sitting the way he did not too long ago with his cat in his lap.

Snickers looked at the mirror – at itself. It looked sad, almost grieving. Rick could have sworn Snickers was close to tears. Snickers then averted its gaze to a different spot within the mirror then again at a different spot and again in a pattern close to zigzags. It seemed like it was following something moving really fast. Rick couldn’t get a hold of what his cat was following. He thought about another fly but no fly could be that small to not be able to be seen. He thought about reflections and cast a few looks behind to confirm anything that is tricking his cat. He thought about the post he just read a few minutes ago. Of how cats can see things and of mirrors having two sides. He thought about the exhilaration of being able to experience paranormal events and seeing ghosts for the first time. He held his ground. He shouldn’t have.

Snickers’ sights rested against its master – Rick, from the mirror. For the first time throughout the time he got him as a pet, Rick had never actually looked at it directly. He saw a sparkle, like a tear swelling up. He then saw Snickers slowly lifting its gaze upwards, finally getting a hold of whatever it was following. Its gaze was directly on top of him – the thing it followed was like it was hovering above him directly. Rick saw his cat bowed its head down as in cowering or surrendering. And that was when it happened.

The mirror cracked through the center – creating a jagged line dividing it evenly – him evenly. Rick couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t blink. Everything around him stopped. The ceiling fan caught mid-swing, the second hand on the clock stopped moving, his cat – silent. He was never this afraid and helpless before. This fear was pure and new to him. He tried averting his gaze from the mirror as it started to ooze blood. Black, with the stench of sulphur, chunks of oddly shaped things started to make through the crack. As they fell down before him, each gave a short quiver and became alive – bearing impossible mouths full of teeth. They made short way onto him, covering his upper body and neck up to his ears. Snickers was nowhere to be seen.

The little mouths started saying things – things Rick couldn’t make out. There were too many trying to say something at once and above that, the pain of having them on him. Not only did they cover him, they bite into him, making little holes here and there. Small jets of his blood were seen (and felt) as the little mouths began shouting as hard as they were biting. Rick could finally make out what were they trying to say to him.

“Whatcha wish for?”

Rick was regretting ever to have been addicted to the paranormal or the occult. He regretted trying to make Snickers look at a mirror. He regretted enjoying frights. Now, he was to have the scare of his life – the last.

Upon the crack bore a hand most wicked and grotesque. Its fingers were impossibly long. The color was a tinge to red. Its nails caked with blood that appeared not to be its own. Around it were entanglements of bones not known belonged to any living creature of this world.

The crack grew as it pried through. It then trashed away at the edges as though making room. It moved incredibly fast but its movements were similar to those of seizures – spasms and contortions every time it managed to pry open the crack a little wider. At certain intervals when it did a hefty job of widening the crack, it would reach out to him. And all Rick could do was sit back and enjoy the show.

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No one – not even his own mother – knew what had befallen Rick Evans that night. But he knew. He knew.

He now sits in front of a full length mirror – waiting. Waiting, as his arm grew thinner and bigger and redder. He found his food the little mouths that had once covered his body. He has to crush the mouths to eat them, caking his fingernails with blood that isn’t his own. He waits. He watches helplessly as the thing that got out is now roaming freely in the shadows – afraid of the light once was its ticket out. He waits for another to sit with a cat to grab and free him. He had once been forced to enjoy the show. Now, he is a part of it.


EDITED BY: Siti Nabilah binti Wan Noor