Deception

It wasn't painful at first. The initial waves at first felt a little tingly, a sense of losing what is dear to you. Wasn't painful, only saddening. I could see the brick red lines seep out from under my fingertips, from my very veins. The board I was strapped to felt cold, the wood splintering my flesh. I couldn't see my feet, but I felt the warmth being drained out of the soles of them. I couldn't make out the room I was becoming a part of, but I could hear the laughter.
Chuckling resounded off the hidden walls, resonating within my ears. It was as endless as it was heartless. It struck an icicle of fear into my rapidly growing cold chest. I struggled to make sense of it all. I couldn't. I shivered from the draining. I could feel myself becoming nothing more but a husk. The outer rims of my vision began to darken, beckoning me even.
In the center of my vision, however, I saw the one laughing at last. I couldn't hear its echoing footsteps over its laughter. I couldn't make out the clothes it wore, but I saw its face. Filled with confusion and anger, I struggled at my restraints. I tried to scream but found myself lacking the breath. I had forgotten it had been taken from me.
I locked eyes with my predator. It smiled as I heard it flip a switch with a smile. I could feel something coming to me. But it wasn't what I just lost. It was something different. Something foreign. I trembled. The monster began to fill my shell with something i could not identify, only fear. It began to laugh again.
I wonndered why it was doing this.
Why was it replacing all I had with it's own substances?
Why was it wearing my own face?

Evolution

I stared at the reflection once more, seeing the grin on it's side, but feeling the torment on my own. I raised the blade I so carefully kept on my person, to my outstretched arm. The distorted reflection kept turning, moving, morphing but still keeping it's eyes locked with me. I pressed the cold steel against my naked flesh by my wrist and sliced as deep as I could.
But no blood fell.
No pain was felt.
I was confused. I looked down at my wound but saw nothing. The blade had done nothing. Staring at my weapon I saw that it had rapidly begun to age. Rust swarmed over the steel like a plague until it dissolved into dust before my hand. It could not help me. It could not prevent the Alterations.
I moved my gaze back to my reflection to see it's ever widening smile. There was something in it's eyes however. Something dark. I shivered from a bolt of fear at it. With no weapon in my hand, I wondered at what to do to stop the Alteration. The frustration and worry made me clench my fists until they shook.
Unsure and confused as to the next course of action, I hastily chose to ram my fist against my enemy. It's grin wouldn't wear off, so I forced my pain unto it some more. Hit after hit I would resume, waiting for it to stop.
Finally it was I who did when I saw that the mirror was perfectly in tact and unharmed.
From blade to blunt force, the Alterations will be stopped.

Differences

One walkway splits into two as two halves make a whole.
Step by step the gravel crumbles.
Moment by moment the serpentine path coils.
In the middle of my path there lies a shell, to the looter go the spoils.
Yet as I grasp it my fingers decide to fumble!
As it breaks upon the ground, it is revealed to open into a bowl:
Hollow, empty.
A shadow walked upon the path matching my own, a Familiar one.
I tossed my broken hollow pieces at it.
Upon catching it they became one, once more. Radiating heat.
They had fixed what I had done,
And in the center of the item it appeared to be lit?
I recognized the item, as a familiar organ, regaining its beat.

Consequences

My feet led me to the precipice of an immense rift in the Earth. It stretched to the horizon and still carried on beyond the sight of my naked eyes. I searched for a bottom of the scar of the Earth's crust, but found only endless darkness. The other side was far too away to cross the wound, and I wasn't even sure I wished to get there.
I looked down once more but saw that the darkness was rising rapidly. Soon it reached the light from an unseen sun, where upon I saw that it was not simply the abyss rising from the core, but blood. I was confused, yet calm at the realization that this was not Earth. I stared at the crimson tide slowly reach to the top of the open wound, nearing my feet.
I took in a deep breath and contemplated. The blood was being spilt by me, but I was unsure if it was justified. I saw the light within the sky dissipate slowly, dwindle even. I thought I had caused this wound for the greater good, for the right cause in the long run. Now I was filled with self-doubt.
The blood from the rift had now reached my feet, my shoes. I saw them get lost in the sea of red. They felt a wave of cool the instant they had touched, but still held my ground. I thought about what I had done, if I could be right, and hoped I wasn't wrong. I saw an hourglass in the sky, where a sun would be. Curious, given that there isn't light yet I could make out the sand lasting on its last grains from the hourglass.
I let out a deep breath and saw the grey of my air leave my lungs, devoid of color. My right hand showed a dagger, showing my darkening reflection. It was too late. Before any deeper alterations could occur, before my hourglass had run out, I had to do something. I had to cause this rift. This wound. Nothing to do now but stand by it.
The blood reached my chest now, but still I stood still.
I let out a final breath, and wondered what repercussions I had waiting for me.
With that thought, the blood fully encased over my skull.
Perhaps forgiveness awaited me. I don't know, but I aim to stay and find out.

Mirrored Images

The door snapped shut as I flicked the light on to the bathroom. I placed my palms on the sink counter as I gradually raised my head to face itself in the mirror. With each nanosecond I thought about what I would say when I saw It, what I would feel when I locked eyes. All of my prepared phrases vanished out of memory when I made eye contact with It.
I stared into the abyssal pupils of my enemy. I saw the hate, the fear, the reluctant tears that would refuse to fall. I saw the childish innocence lurking around the corners of the pupil, hiding from the light but still curious about it nonetheless. My knuckles grew white as I gripped the counter tighter and tighter with each passing second.
Memories ran through my mind, tripping over emotional branches. Causing pain, anger, sorrow, with each mistep. I slowly turned my gaze to the counter and wished to coat it with pieces of my forehead. To change the paint job from a marble stone white, to a crimson red. I chose not to, against every fiber of my willpower. I wished to shatter the mirror with my white-knuckled fist, to sever my throat from the torso, but I chose not to.
I threw another glare at my reflection, and saw the black flame inside the retina. The flame danced with itself in glee and horror. I saw it make a face, grinning at me, before disappearing back into the void of the eye. I sighed a breath of tears and rage, and let myself back out of the bathroom.

Absence

Everyone talked amongst themselves, sharing jokes and stories galore. Their joy filled the walls of pictures of the same people that sat near me. Between sentences they would shovel delicious food into their mouths, still maintaining the ability to listen. I observed their interactions, and how their plates were plentiful, almost neverending. With each bite they seemed to increase their resonating joy, their warmth. Collectively between the dozen of relatives that were not my own, and the heater that fought off the nipping cold air outside, the room was a small hot box of happiness.
Except I couldn't feel any of it. It was as if it dissipated before getting to me. I looked to my left to an empty seat, reminding me of my hungry stomach. I began to start on my plate of food, hoping it would have the same effect on me as it was having on everyone else.
Only my plate was empty.

Alterations

I was unsure of what I saw, whether I was in 3rd person or in first. At glances I was through my eyes, staring at myself in the mirror that stood before me. At another glance, I was circling around me, noticing my stare at myself. My jet black jeans and button-up shirt were still on my personal, with my feet unnoticed.
When I saw my reflection, I could see changes occurring. Skin pigmentation would flicker, my shoulder would widen and shrink, my eyes dance between colors, my hair twitching in length. I could see my mouth smiling in one moment, frowning in the next, but ultimately I could see the underlying expression: blank, empty, meaningless.
Behind my reflection I found it peculiar to see sunlight streaming through a series of windows, yet on my own side I was only encased in the darkness. I was unsure of what changes would occur, and what I might become. Horns sprouted in an instant, only to be replaced with hair. Blood stains on my black clothing would become part of an intricate pattern of a tie-dye shirt. I was afraid of what I may turn into in time to pass.
My eyes darted from my reflection towards a blade I now held in my hand, unsure of its origins but aware of its intentions. It was letting me know that if the reflection would ever become too unstable, if it ever would become something that must be stopped, there was always one final solution.

Drowning-Monster-greeting

Richard hid in the bathroom, taking care to softly leave the door open just a crack to listen in to the abomination on the other side. He still heard the moaning and slurping of feet shuffling coming closer to his position. He examined the bathroom for a suitable hiding place, but only saw the rusty bathtub and aged shower curtain as his only option. He quickly hid within it, praying the creature would not stumble closer to him.
Sweat began to form on Richard's brow, however, when he heard the door creaking open, accompanied by the shuffling footsteps and curious moaning. Almost as if it was underwater. Richard could not resist curiosity, and had to peek to see what was striking so much fear into his very bones. Using one of the small holes within the shower curtain, Richard peeped. His eyes widened as his breath stopped.
It's skin was more like leather, gnarled and wrinkled, walking on disjointed legs twisted in horrendous directions, causing only shuffling instead of the inevitable agony of lifting them. There was simply no segment for arms to be found, yet it had the torso resembling a human. Where it's head was, however, explained the confusing moaning. A plastic sheet lay wrapped around what would be a cranium, except it remained tightly woven over it with barbed wire at the base of the neck, coagulated blood caking the leather skin. Inside the sheet, Richard could make out water within it, and from there he could just barely make out a mouth screaming at the pain it was being tormented with.
Richard looked away from his peephole and sunk as much as possible into the nasty bathtub. He heard the muffled, submerged cries come closer. He wondered if the creature was crying for help, or crying for whatever had done that tormeent, to seize another victim.

Intro-part 1

Kyle stumbled through the thick forest, his nerves becoming annoyed at every branch that chose to defy his path. He continually looked at his map for directions, searching for a possible shorter, easier answer. He grumbled everytime. He wished for a road to drive on to get to his destination: his inherited mansion supposedly from a long distant relative. At first he laughed at the posibility, how coincidental and cliche it sounded, yet the more he looked into it the more he wished it to be true.
He took a chance by accepting it. Took a few days of vacation time off from his job as a butcher, just in case it was true and was a real treasure for him. He would've told his girlfriend to come with him on a possible night of romance, if he had one. So he took the directions, his own little map, and made his way through the dense forest within Oregon, unsure if a mansion could really be his, a mansion belonging to Kyle Helford.