My wife screams in terror all night long. I visit the cemetery and beg her to stop, but her morbid fear of me continues.

My sister says that mummy killed her. Mummy says that I don’t have a sister.

Out of all the paintings in his gallery, this one disturbed me the most. Especially when I realized that wasn't red paint he used.

"It's OK now."

He hugged me and I felt the blade slide between my ribs.

He lifted my veil, and I ignored the small shudder that racked my body as he leaned in to kiss me.

Pastor Mark's voice boomed ominously, "I now pronounce you husband and wife!"

I stared at my hamburger in horror.

"I told you, I'd introduce you to Sarah," he smiled, "Isn't she well-done?

For hours her screams permeated through the wall. When she went silent I knew she was dead, and it was my turn.  

After three years of blindness, I can see.

I can see why my mother blinded me, and I wish she could do it again.

Blood is forming puddles on the forest floor from the decapitated bodies, which hang by a thick steel wire bound around their feet and tied to the limbs of the trees above. I must press on and face my fears, for ahead lies my only escape from my own madness. 

There is nothing to fear behind you. But do not look in the mirror.