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LIKE THE ALLEY murder scene of only a few days ago, the bathroom in Kamil Parker’s home that evening was intensely gross, defying all logic.

The walls had been thoroughly blood-sprayed, same as the floor. The only difference here was that there was no body in the bathroom to be evacuated. And that was where the cops actually thought that the only plausible witness, if indeed there had been a murder, was not mentally stable to render a clear testimony as to what went down in the bathroom that day.

Julie was incoherent all through her account, blabbing, sometimes muttering strange words with quivering lips, suggesting that her boyfriend had been pulled into the mirror by a ‘monster from the other side’ (whatever that meant)! And then the said mirror subsequently exploded in her face!

What a tale well spun, thought the officers on ground, unimpressed and deeply confounded.

“Say again,” said one of the policemen interviewing Julie soon after, when they first arrived at the scene. “What happened to your boyfriend?”

The first impression was that the teenager must be high on something, so they subtly checked her eyes and used the breath-analyzer on her. Then afterwards, during the house search, they also checked for drugs and any kind of abused substances capable of giving an unusual high. This was just in case the teenage lovers had been up to no good, then something awful went wrong, and now the girl was making up outlandish stories to throw the cops off her back.

“There was something in the mirror when the lights went out,” muttered Julie, still sobbing, her words thin and ominous. “It took Kamil, dragged him into the mirror.”

She looked grave and disorientated, her wide eyes staring amiss. She knew how she must be sounding to the people around, but it was the explicit truth she was saying, whether or not they thought she was bunkers. It only hurt that Kamil Parker was gone, and that she was there when it happened.

“This ‘something’ that came out from the mirror, Ms. Sanderton,” rejoined the officer, with a suspicious and skeptical look. “Did you see what it was exactly? I mean, was it an animal?”

Julie shook her head tensely. “No, Sir. I only saw the hands when it reached for Kamil. They had claws.”

“Claws? Then it must have been an animal, don’t you think, Ms. Sanderton?”


The officer paused. Then he walked away, sighing and shaking his head ruefully, muttering something uncharitably as he strode back into the bathroom where a number of officers and forensic team were studying the scene.

Everywhere was dusted and meticulously checked for fingerprints and other clues that might give an indication as to what actually happened there. But overall, they found nothing that could be helpful for their investigation, aside from a trail of bloody footprints that were later confirmed to belong to the girl, which she had made when fleeing from the house in the wake of the incident.

The blood, of course, was proven by DNA test to be Kamil Parker’s. After the test came back positive for Parker, the police seemed to reach the conclusion that he was most probably dead, wherever he was. Finding his corpse was the critical assignment that should follow, and that was what they set their minds to. At least, it would give them an idea what happened to the boy and help them catch the killer as well.

Unfortunately, there was nothing tangible to hold on to, except the girl’s superstitious accounts, which would obviously lead nowhere. For starters, just how the hell do you commence investigation into the gruesome murder and abduction of a victim’s remains by a monster that is believed to be residing in the bathroom mirror?

“Not that I believe her,” said one young officer thoughtfully, when they were clearing away from the house, “but I’m taking down every single mirror in my house when I get home.”

The others chuckled.

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