Something Lies Within

By Jaish Goutam

The pitter-patter of the rain on the window glass — always so soothing — was interrupted by the loud

thunder that came from the heaven itself. It disturbed the slumber of a woman. She had long black hair,

quite young — 24 or 27. The sudden noise woke her with fright.

“Ugh... it’s still raining,” she groaned.

“Well, let’s get some things done.”

She got out of her bed, checked the time, and walked to the kitchen. In the hallway, there was a tall

mirror in front it was a door. White, like all the other doors in her apartment. But something was eerie

about it something within. She stared at that door for a while and then walked away.

The women brewed some coffee, the aroma of the coffee blended with the heavy air . The woman

constantly checked the time as if something were worrying her. The woman turned on the TV to watch

some news, to see something she felt guilty about.

“According to our latest report,” a news anchor said with an alarming and serious tone, “a serial killer

roams the streets who has killed Fifty-Three innocent people and still roams free. No one knew what the

serial killer looked like until his recent target, who fortunately escaped with some minor injuries and

gave information about his appearances, age etcetera in an interview.”

The news shifted to the interview of the survivor. She had a deep cut on her cheek, now stitched. She

was stuttering a lot, indicating that she was still in shock and unable to comprehend what had happened.

“ I was attacked out of nowhere!” “ma’am please calm down, Let’s start from the very beginning. Could

you tell us about the encounter in detail” the interviewer said in a comforting tone to calm her. The

victim took a deep breath, her quivering lips beginning to tell the ordeal of the encounter that almost

cost her life.

“I-I was r-returning from my late night job a-and suddenly! I heard foot steps f-following me!”

“Then?” the interviewer said with bated breath.

“I-I panicked and started to walk faster and — and to my horror the footsteps grew louder!!”

The interviewer gulped with anxiety and said, “W-what did you do afterwards?”

“I ran,” the victim answered instantaneously.

“I ran as fast as my legs could carry me... and after running farther than I ever had in my life, I stopped in

an alley, exhausted beyond my limits. I thought I had gotten away, but...” “But?!” the interviewer gasped.

“I WAS FATALLY MISTAKEN.”

“What..?”

“Yes, because as soon as I turned my head to look back — SLASH!!”

The interviewer almost jumped in his seat.

“I could not even realize what happened to me. She attacked me out of nowhere. I fell to the ground, my

feet trembling with fear and exhaustion. Warm blood was gushing from my pale cheek, but I could not

feel the wound because of the adrenaline pumping through my veins. And there she was, only two

meters away from me. She started to walk toward me in a very slow manner, almost deliberately. Then

her knife gleamed in the lights, dripping with my blood. My life started to flash before my eyes, but it

was interrupted every single time when her footsteps grew louder and louder. And before I knew it, she

was standing right in front of me. Through some lights in the alley, I saw what she looked like. And now I

wish that...”

“You wish?” the interviewer said with confusion.

“I wish I could never see that face.”

“Why? Could you please elaborate on that? And wait she? So according to you the serial is a female?!”

“yes.” the victim said feebly “Through the lights I saw what ‘she’ looked like. She had white silver hair,

quite young 25 or 27 or so. She held her knife with both of her hands, and the knife was above her head.

And I knew...”

“Knew what..?”

“I was going to get killed, and I saw her face...” “Her face?!” The interviewer was now on the edge of his

seat.

“Yes, her face. It had no lines of hesitation. Her grin was wide as if splitting her face in two, and — and...”

The victim stuttered in fear.

“H-her eyes... dark as the abyss that devours everything in its path...”

“S-so how did you survive then?” the interviewer asked in shock and fear.

“A miracle...”

“M-miracle?”

“Indeed. When I thought I was done for, I shut my eyes as hard as I could just before she was about to

strike. The knife that was aimed for my chest — there was a strange stinging pain at my chest where the

knife was going to penetrate — and CHINK! I opened my eyes to see that the knife that was aimed at my

chest hit the ground between my legs. I was shocked. And when I looked at her face, which shook me to

my core and it my mind bend...”

“Why?” the interviewer asked with intrigue.

“Because the face that was full of bloodlust the moment earlier was now a face full of concern, and

screamed to me, ‘Run, run away! Get away from her!’ I was awestruck. I stood up to run, and exhaustion

from my legs just vanished. It was like I was given a new chance at life. But... there was something off...

with her. She was groaning and screaming while holding her head, repeatedly screaming ‘Get away from

me! Go away!’ like she was fighting someone. Someone from...”

“FROM?!” the interviewer almost shrieked.

After thinking for a while, the victim looked at the camera, her eyes widened with realization, warning

anyone watching, and whispered, “Someone from within......”

The news cut back to the anchor.

“So that was the interview with the survivor. New information has been added, that the serial killer could

be a female but this information still yet to be verified by the further investigation from the authorities.

We hope the serial killer is caught as soon as possible and receives the harshest punishment. That’s all

for today. Please stay inside at all costs, and always watch your back.”

The screen turned off abruptly, and the woman’s face reflected on the black TV screen, full of fear and

guilt. She checked the time and shrieked with alarm.

“Oh no... the time!”

She hurried and dashed toward the white door. After thinking for a second, she opened the door.

The door opened with the most spine-chilling creak imaginable. On the floor, rectangular light cast her

silhouette. Near it, scratches . The woman ignored them knowingly.

She went to the switchboard in the room and flipped a switch, and saw a blood-curdling view on the

walls. Words scratched over and over, repeatedly: “YOU CAN’T ESCAPE ME.”

The scratches condensed on one corner of the room, where some chains were nailed. The woman

dashed toward the chains but suddenly fell to the floor and started screaming agonizingly, holding her

head in pain. Then suddenly, the screams stopped, and a voice was heard from the woman.

“You thought that chains are enough to stop me!” the voice said, so gentle it barely masked the horror

beneath it.

“You don’t belong here,” the woman’s voice fought back.

“You—”

“WRONG!” she interrupted.

“It’s WE.”

“W-we?!..” the woman uttered with confusion.

“Yes, we.”

“ Don’t compare yourself with me.”

“We are different liquids of the same vessel.”

“No, no, you don’t exist.”

“Yes, you’re probably right,” she said with a cheerful tone dripping with malice.

“Then... who killed Fifty-Three innocent lives???” she said in a toying tone. The woman’s face turned

paler than drowned skin.

“No no no no no no... t-that’s not true,” she replied with guilt and denial.

“But I don’t exist, right?... RIGHT”

The woman started to tear up and laughed maniacally.

“NO!!! I DID NOT KILL THEM — YOU DID!” the woman roared with retaliation.

“Oh, accept it. You are me, and I am you.”

“No!!!!! I am not you! I exist and you don’t! I live and you don’t! I feel and you don’t! YOU. ARE.

NOTHIING!!!” she screamed like a hurricane.Then everything went calm. But little did she know, the

storm was yet to come.

As the woman exited the room with relief, a haunting whisper came — the loudest whisper she had ever

heard:

“YOU. CAN’T. ESCAPE... MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”

The whisper turned into screams, her ear kept ringing until she could not take it anymore.

“STOP IT!!!”

She smashed her head against the mirror.

Pain flared. So did silence. The shards scattered like tiny diamonds across the floor. She fell to her knees,

head bowed, breathing ragged. Silence filled the surroundings. Heavy. Pleasant. Unpleasant.

When she looked at the mirror, she saw something she would regret. The reflection staring back was no

longer hers. The crack in the mirror cleaved her face in two — one pale, petrified. Her eyes began to tear

up. Tears rolled down her cheeks, where blood gushed from her forehead. Blood and tears dripped

together from her chin, but from the other half — something else entirely. Something that can never be

human.

Its grin stretched so wide it seemed it would tear its own skin, and its eyes were darker than the abyss,

deeper than the void itself. Something concluding was heard:

“You. Can. Not. Escape. Me...”

Followed by thunder, which pierced the woman’s heart and shattered her soul into a million pieces. She

collapsed on the floor. Still. Silent.

Time passed.

Then the woman woke, dazed after being unconscious for a while. She got up, stretched her back and

her whole body as if she had been tired from fighting someone.

She cleaned up the bloodied glass shards from the floor. Nursed the wound on her forehead. Then

quietly resumed her chores — though no one ever told her to do so.

When all was done, she crept into a secret place, a place not even the apartment’s owner was aware of.

There, she found the box, right where she left it before. Little dust rested on it — a sign it had been used

often.

The box held many bottles of hair dye, a cap — both meant to conceal something dark, something

sinister. And lastly, a knife. Deadly, menacing. Sheathed.

But when unsheathed, it shimmered a grin so vile that fear feared itself.

She prepared the dye, applied it to her long black hair — concealing it, perhaps.

She stepped into the shower. The shower hissed to life. It washed away not just the dye — but a person’s

identity.

When she stepped out, she was unrecognizable. Not even a trace remained of who she was. Her hair —

whiter than the faces of the victims she had killed.

She wore the cap and took the knife with her. As she was about to leave through the main door, she

stopped and said,

“I know you are listening deep down...”

A scoff followed. “It’s ironic” she murmured, “how many I kill — and yet the blood will be on your

hands.” She tilted her head, smirking faintly. “And you’re probably wondering... why? Why me? ...It’s

because...” Her tone changed, harsher, viler, and colder.

“YOU. CAN. NEVER. ESCAPE. ME.”

THE END

By Jaish Goutam