The Obsidian Mirror, pt. 2

"What's going on...?" I mumble to myself, my knees and hands shaking.

The doorbell rings. I stumble to the door and peer through the peephole nervously. Two police officers stood outside.

Oh god. They're hear for the girl. I don't even know who she is. I don't know how she got here. How do I tell them that? God, I'm going to prison. I'll be locked up for life and no one will ever believe me. How so I get out of this?

The doorbell rings again. I take a deep breath and open the door and poke my head outside.

"Hello, sir," says the first policeman. "Sorry to bother you, but we need to ask you a few questions about a
crime committed last night in this neighborhood."

"A crime? What happened?"

"A woman is missing, kidnapped from her bedroom, and her husband is in critical condition."

"Oh my god, that's horrible."

"Yes it is," says the officer. "Would you mind if we come in?"

"You don't want to do that, the house is a mess," I reply. "Why don't we just do it out here on the porch?"

"Sir, you aren't even wearing a shirt. And I assure you, we've seen worse than whatever mess is in your house."

"May we please come in?" asks the second officer forcefully.

I hesitate and look back at the woman hanging from the ceiling. I sigh and cast my eyes downward.

"Yes," I answer weakly and quietly, "but just know, it wasn't me. I swear to you I don't know how she got there."

I open the door all the way and the officers walk in. Instantly there eyes lock on the body and they both tackle me. I hear them yelling and feel them handcuffing my wrists, but I don't struggle. There's nothing I can do.

24 Hours Later:

"The forensics team's preliminary data is in, Zee," my attorney tells me from the other side of the table.

"And?" I ask hopefully. There is an eerie silence in the locked room. I'm in prison in a room with white walls on three sides, and a one-way window on the fourth so the guard on the other side can watch me. I'm
handcuffed to my chair, and I haven't slept or eaten since I got here.

"You raped her and killed her, Zee."

My jaw drops in shock.

"I... but I didn't! I was asleep on the couch the whole night! That's impossible!" I yell desperately.

"The evidence is pretty conclusive, Zee, there's not much I can do..."

"Look at me!" I scream. "I'm a skinny science nerd! I couldn't beat up a guy bad enough to put him in a coma, and I certainly couldn't carry that woman anywhere!"

My attorney is silent. I groan in frustration and lean my head back, looking at the ceiling. I glance over at the reflective glass.

He's here. I see the man again and jump in fright.

"What's wrong?" my attorney asks, startled.

"He's here," I say, "the man from my car and TV."

I look around the room frantically but there's no one else. I slam my fist on the table in a confused rage and hold back tears. It's hopeless. I'll rot in here.

"I think I'm going to have you tested for drugs," my attorney says. "Maybe I can get you into rehab instead of spending the rest of your life in here."

"I'm not on drugs!"

"You're a hell of an actor then." He stands up and walks to the door which a guard opens and he walks out.

"You have one more visitor," the guard says. He motions to someone outside the room. Professor Hyne walks in and takes the attorney's seat.

"What are you doing here, professor?" I asked surprised.

"Just checking up on you," he says. "Wanted to see how you're feeling."

"Horrified. Hopeless. I could go on," I answer.

"No," he says detachedly, "I meant health-wise. No abnormal symptoms of anything?"

"No, not that I've noticed. Why do you ask?"

"Collecting data.

"For what?" I ask impatiently.

"My ongoing experiment," he says coolly.

"Why did you come here Professor Hyne?" I ask.

"To tell you that I know who did it."

"What? Tell me!"

"Not just yet," he says with a sinister look in his eye, "I have to let the experiment run its course."

"Tell me what's going on!"

"You'll find out soon enough," Hyne answers as he stands and walks to the door. "Have nice day, Zee."

The guard opens the door and Hyne is gone.

I'm left alone.

Just me, handcuffed to my chair, avoiding the gaze from the reflection in the glass.