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Twenty-Three

last update Last Updated: 2021-09-09 17:26:38
TWENTY-THREE

Upstairs, Jed threw the bathroom door open and the handle smashed the wall. Almost slipped on the tiles. Panting hard, fast. Locked himself in. Scolding vomit threatened to rise in his throat again, so he grabbed the porcelain washbasin to steady himself. What he saw in the mirror made him recoil.

The reflected man couldn’t be him.

This man’s skin was covered in matted bits and pieces of other people.

A murderer.

Jed laughed. No, he wasn’t a murderer. He was a youngish, fucked up, average guy. If anything, his worst crime was being a cliché, not a killer. He’d seen enough movies to know that murderers lurked in the dark, sharpening their knives; they danced in the moonlight wearing their mother’s clothes and made lampshades from the skins of their victims.

He was just Jed.

History wouldn’t remember him—he wasn’t some future horror icon.

I’m as common as the cold.

The man in the mirror was someone special.

“So you can’t be me.”

Jed pulled his shirt over his head,
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