Visions of Scarlett by Jessie Ellis

Author:Jessie Ellis [Ellis, Jessie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-05-02T00:00:00+00:00

“What’s. Your. N-name.”

Callum’s eyes cracked to slits, but the room was dark. What had woken him? He groaned and rolled on his back, wanting a way back to oblivion.

“What’s. Your. N-name.”

What the hell?

It was Scarlett’s voice. He drew up to his knees, searching the bed, as if she were no bigger than a mouse and could somehow be found amongst the rumple of bedding around him. But the sheets were cold and he was alone.

“Sssssscar. Lett.”

Callum turned to the open bathroom door. From his angle, he couldn’t see into the room, but that’s where her voice had come from. She sounded strange, robotic, void of spark. Each syllable was separated by a long pause as though something spoke through her, having to find a way to push the sounds out of her mouth bit by bit.

He’d covered the mirror in there. Had the sheet slipped down? Callum crept to the bathroom. He didn’t want to startle her. He never wanted to be the one to scare her.

But never, in his wildest imagination, had he thought that she could scare him. And yet…

The sheet was loosely held in her hands and draped down her legs, the mirror exposed. He was looking at her back, but her front was reflected in the mirror, her chin tipped down and her eyes rolled up. He saw the mirror-Scarlett form words on her lips, but no sound came from his Scarlett who stood barefoot on cold tile and held the sheet he’d thought would save her from these nightstalking visions.

Then Scarlett spoke aloud.

“Yessss. Clay. Ton. Not. Far.”

Scarlett spoke aloud, but the mirror-Scarlett, the only one whose face he could see, hadn’t moved a muscle, hadn’t moved her lips. The reflected version of Scarlett hadn’t spoken.

It had listened.

Ice spread through Callum’s chest. He wanted to call to her, but he was frozen with a feeling unfamiliar to him. He gave it a name in his head: terror. He wished he could pull her from the gaze of whoever looked upon her from the mirror, because Scarlett and the mirror-woman were not the same. They were identical in looks. They each wore his shirt. But they were not the same.

Terror clawed at him, held him in place, and all he could do was watch.

Then he noticed the shirt. It wasn’t the white t-shirt he’d slipped on Scarlett earlier. It was red. An old college t-shirt, the printed letters flaking and fading. And he would never, ever, have put that shirt on Scarlett. Would never have even let her touch it because —

“NOOOOOO!”

With a roar Callum pulled himself from the nightmare, eyes flying open to find the room dark.

Scarlett turned in his arms. His breath came out in jagged, panicked bursts as he tucked her head beneath his chin.

“What’s your name?” she murmured into his chest. “Are you far?”

She spoke softly and Callum tried to rein in his breathing and slow his pounding heart so he could hear her. He felt like he’d run a fucking marathon.

“Not far. Me, too,” she said.

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