To Be Scared by an Owl

The fact that I had no clue where to start looking for this man didn't extinguish the flame of my resolve. I knew that I was going to find him, even if I had to search a lifetime for him.

I don't understand any of this. All I know is that he calls himself the Thespian…and he took the love of my life away from me…

I turned and headed down another alley way. The sun's angle in the sky caused it to be blotted out entirely by the building adjacent to me, casting the entire alleyway in a black gloom. My shadow still appeared next to me on the wall, however, seeming to ignore the surrounding darkness. I was filled with an awful sense of foreboding that was only confirmed when the shadow's frame curved upward. A slender shape within the shadow's form glistened unnaturally in the dim lighting. I recognized it as the same knife that had taken Annabel's life – I would never forget the shape of that damned tool. The shadow brought down the blade and slashed it towards my throat. I felt a warm stream of fresh blood run down my neck where my old wound was, reopened by the shadow's attack. Thankfully, I had reacted quickly enough to avoid a fatal blow. Before I could think, the shadow was upon me again, brandishing that accursed weapon closer and closer towards my body.

What's going on? My shadow can't be attacking me…It's a shadow…

I clenched my knuckles into a tight fist and threw a blind punch towards the shadow, but my efforts were futile. I caught the sinister glimmer of the blade as it swung around to my left and plunged into the side of my torso. Blood gushed from the wound and dyed the dirt a menacing shade of dark red.

I fell to the ground, clutching the wound in my side. I flipped over onto my stomach and attempted to crawl away only to feel the stiff, metal blade sink into my back. My entire body was overcome with an unbearable pain as the tip of the knife struck a nerve on my spine. Shortly after, everything swiftly went numb. My vision clouded and the alley began spinning around me. My ears may have been ringing, but I could still hear the resounding voice that spoke to me:

"Sweetheart? Darling? Turn around. It's me. Follow my voice."

I was on the verge of losing consciousness again, but that didn't hinder my ability to recognize the voice of my lover.

Again? How many times am I going to have to relive this torture?!

"Everything's going to be okay, my love," she continued. "Everything will be fine. It's all over now."

I drifted off listening to the sweet poison of her voice. When I opened my eyes a bit later, I was no longer in the alley – I was in my own bedroom at my house. Despite its familiarity, a heavy sense of foreboding hung over the room. My eyes were fixed straight ahead at my reflection in the oval-shaped, full-length mirror that hung on the wall in front of me. On the bed beside me, Annabel lay in a deep slumber. I could see the steady rise and fall of her chest under the pristine, white blankets out of the corner of my eye. I knew this trick all too well. Seeing her figure should have relieved me of all my suffering, but it only intensified the pain and insanity I was already experiencing.

"SHE'S NOT REAL!" I screamed into the mirror. The intensity of the sound cracked the glass pane. I recoiled, shielding my face. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Annabel's reflection standing behind mine in the mirror. Her short, white gown was stained with blood. In her small, delicate hands twirled the knife that was still soaked in my blood. With the bitterest of smiles, she grasped the handle tightly and sunk the blade deep into my flank, curving it up and between my ribs. Darkness crept into the corners of my eyes as I slumped to the floor in a defeated heap.

She trusted me…She gave me her love and her soul…I promised her the world in return, and somehow I had still let her down…