The Abyss Beyond the Reflection

by Micah Castle

  “You said you wanted to go home, didn't you?” he asked, turning towards her.

  “Yes…” She whimpered, looking at Tommy's face, no longer seeing brown eyes, but swirling vats of glowing topaz and ruby sunken deep into his rippling peridot flesh, and his once hazel hair now flowing flames of vivid moonstone.

  “Well, then let's go home — my home.” He gurgled, his words deep and hollow.

  In an instant, the car disappeared from the Overlook. No burn marks were left in the dirt or grass, no treetops were alight with flames from the waves of fire, not even the temperature increased from the heat radiated from the vehicle's teleportation.

  The Overlook stood vacant and silent… but if someone would have been standing there, looking out into space, passed the stars, they would have seen a fiery sparkle of Tommy's red muscle car.

  A Star Collector

  Alone under the night sky, the 10-year-old boy Adam walked down Chestnut Street, from his father's house to his mother's, the latter he considered his one true home. He didn’t like being out late, the darkness was scary, but his father was passed out on the couch and wouldn’t wake up, and Adam didn’t want to spend another minute with him, especially in the morning. He was always the meanest then.

  Only one street lamp was dimly lit, and the darkened gabled houses he passed loomed over him as he moved ahead, as if they looked down upon him in disappointment.

  Adam focused on the starry blackness above. His brown mop-like hair was thrown back from his forehead, his wide hazel eyes seemed to vacuum up the scene before him, and his mouth hung open, revealing the one missing tooth he lost because of his father’s temper.

  A shooting star ripped across the sky, its long, white cosmic tail trailing behind it. It only lasted a few seconds. In a blink of an eye, it came into existence, then it was gone, as if plucked from the sea of nothingness.

  Adam bumped into another person walking down Chestnut Street. The boy stumbled backwards and fell onto his backside. The man quickly put down his large, light brown bag, knelt and pulled the boy up to his feet, apologizing profusely as he did so.

  Adam, in a voice not quite deep but not quite high, said to the man, “It's okay, it's my fault. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going.”

  When the child was straightened, he peered up into the sky once again, then back to the man. Under the little light given by the single street lamp, Adam could only make out faint details. The man was old, much older than he or his parents, with a bald circular head, a brow that protruded over his orb-like eyes, and a large nose that jutted out of his face like a mountain.

  He wore a long rain coat, the tails of which laid on the ground, baggy pants, and large curved-topped shoes. A large leather bag sat behind him.

  Like the shooting star before, a light appeared behind the brown leather, glowing and pulsating, then disappearing — but then another appeared, and another, until there were so many bright lights packed together in the man’s bag that it stung his eyes and he had to look away. When he looked again, the lights were gone.

  The boy asked the old man, “What's in your bag?”

  The man stopped straightening his clothes with his hands, looked down to Adam, smiled, and said, “I'm a collector of stars.”

  “A collector of stars?” the boy asked.

  “Yes — a star collector, if you will.”

  Silence passed, as if time was needed for the boy's brain to register and decode what he just heard. Then, as abruptly as before, Adam asked, “What do you do with 'em when you have 'em?”

  Another smile stretched across the man's face. He knelt, facing the boy, and said, “Some I keep, like souvenirs — set them on shelves and other things; others I feed to my pets; and the bad ones — especially the ugly ones — I throw away.”

  Thoughts burst into the boy's mind like fireworks. What shelf can hold stars? What animals can eat stars? What trashcan could he have that would hold stars? How does he even get them in the first place? The last question felt most important, so Adam asked the man that question.

  A flicker, like a shooting star itself, winked into existence inside the old man's eyes. Without answering Adam's question, he asked one himself, “Would you like to find out?”

  A wide smile exploded over the boy's face, stretching ear to ear. Adam couldn't find the right words, or any words for that matter, to correctly say how he felt, the excitement being too great, it seemed to spring up from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. All he could manage to do was simply nod.

  “Okay then, but only for a while, then you will have to go home, to your mother.” The Star Collector said, gripping the tail of the sack, and flung the bag over his shoulder.

  He put out his opened hand, and the boy placed his into it, noticing the man’s sausage-like fingers and coarse skin.

  A shining doorway appeared behind them, its radiance so bright it lit up the entire street. Its gold and silver color pulsated and filled the chilly night with warmth.

  Turning around, they faced the doorway. The boy’s grip tightened with excitement around the star collector’s hand. Then they steadily passed through the brilliantly lit threshold.

  It popped out of existence once they were through, and the street became dark and silent once more.

  About the Author

  Micah Castle is a person who writes short horror/weird fiction. His stories have been published via Shoggoth.net, Crimson Streets, Horror Bites Magazine, and Aphotic Realm.

  While away from the computer, he enjoys aimlessly hiking through the woods, playing with his animals, and can typically be found reading a book somewhere in his home.

  You can find updates and free stories via his website: https://www.micahcastle.com