“Hey, you alright man?” I asked Nick, nudging him on the arm with my elbow in some kind of attempt to bring him back to the real world.

Work friends are a strange thing. There is not a single friend on this earth you see and talk to more than the ones you work with, and something about being stuck with the same handful of people in the exact same environment for a large portion of the day, within a large portion of the week makes for a real sort of kindred bond with the people you’re close with there, but in the air of that breath you have to acknowledge that you actually don’t know how well you know them at all. There’s a whole different life that they live when they’re not clocked in. You go home to your place, and they go home to theirs where you live a whole life that both you and your work friends are completely oblivious of, aside from whatever they decide to divulge to you when you clock back in on Monday. You might know how their weekend went, you might know what they enjoy doing when they’re not working, you get the highlights, but there’s a lot of dark between that illumination, and oddly enough that’s kind of okay. There’s your work friend, and there’s the “Other”, and in a weird way it simply makes sense.

Still though, when you see someone almost every day you know when something’s off, and it didn’t take much more than a glance to tell that something was amiss.

By all intents and purposes, he looked the same as he always did. Five foot ten (ish) dude with glasses and a flat cap T-shirt and cargo shorts, two arms and two legs right where they should be, but I don’t know. Something about him was just . . . fuckey. It was like his entire energy was off, and the way he continued to thousand yard stare at the workplace announcement board after I’d just nudged him seemed to confirm my suspicions.

Putting my fist in a ball, I lightly tapped it against the side of Nicks’ head three times. “Police! Wellness chec-“

Quicker than I could finish my joke Nick sprang to life. His arm shot out and grabbed at my wrist with a speed I almost couldn’t comprehend as his head snapped sideways to face me. Locked in the vice-like grip of Nick’s my eyes grew wide as I met his face.

My friends’ normally friendly and smiley and almost jolly looking face was gone, in its place was a look I had never seen on him before, or on anyone for that matter. His upper lip was curled up into something I could only describe as a snarl. His lower lip frowning so deep that I could see all of his teeth that were clenched so tight I’d have sworn were about to shatter under the weight of each other, his eyes were wide and full of anger. No, not anger. That’s not the right word for it. Hatred maybe? That might be a better way to describe it, but it still doesn’t feel like enough to describe what I was seeing behind those eyes. There was a wildness too it. The kind of look that says, “I’m going to tear you apart and drink your blood”.

As quickly as he’d grabbed me, he let go. His arm snapping back down rigidly to his side in symmetry with the other. His feral expression had vanished without a trace, and was replaced with the same ‘out to lunch’ expression he’d been wearing when I’d first noticed him. Wordlessly, he turned away and walked off.

“What’s up man? You alright?” The familiar voice of another work friend snapped me out of my shocked state. As I turned around to meet Demichael, the voices’ owner. His expression changed from cordial curiosity to concern as quickly as Nicks had gone from zombie to rabid animal.

“Goddamn man you good? You see a ghost or somethin’ ? “

“Ye . . . Yeah” I finally managed to croak. Words coming back as the boiling adrenaline subsided.

“You talked to Nick? He say anything?”

“Like what?” Demichael asked staring at Nicks sauntering figure as he shuffled his way to his work station.

“I don’t know. Did I piss him off or something?”

“If you did, I didn’t hear nothing about it. Did he say something to you?”

My mind went back to that expression, that tight grip, those crazy ass eyes.

“No, I don’t know, it’s Monday. Maybe he just had a bad weekend. He’ll cool off.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Warehouse work is equal parts physically demanding, and mentally mundane. If you focus on the mental aspect you’ll go insane, so I always focused on the physical aspect. I soon got caught up in the trance of throwing boxes off pallets and onto the expedite belt. Sometime between three hours and three hundred years later I heard the unnaturally loud, yet endorphin inducing shout of our shift leader from across the warehouse. My favorite word in the world

Breeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaakkkk!

As I made my way across the warehouse to the parking lot and my car I kept an eye out for Nick, maybe he’d had some time to relax his mind a little bit. When your bodies tired your mind tends to wear out too. I was hoping I could catch him and talk with him a bit before he broke off to eat lunch and I went off to eat Lucky Strikes, but Nick was nowhere to be found.

“You seen Nick?” I asked one of the newer employees.

“Who?”

“Nick, about my height. Wears a flat cap.”

“What’s a flat cap?”

“It’s like, one of those hats you see the old gangster wear.”

“Oh, I know who you’re talking about. Nah, I aint seen him today.”

“Alright, thanks man.”

As I sat outside smoking my cigarette my mind went back to Nick’s face. I’ve been working with him for almost a year now. I’d never seen him look that way. I’d never seen anyone look that way, not even in Iraq.

It was just too . . . I don’t know, primal. I thought to myself as I exhaled, a think plume of smoke billowing out and dissipating within the cold night air. That was barely human.

Walking back in I stopped by the restroom. If you don’t relieve yourself on breaks, then you’ll regret it. You go even if you don’t have to. As I walked into the white tile covered room the automatic lights came on and I nearly jumped.

Standing in front of the sinks gazing intently into the mirror in front of him was Nick. Arms at his side, same blank look on his face. Not moving, not blinking. Just staring at himself.

“Nick, Jesus dude you scare the crap out of me-“ Before I could finish what I was saying an unsettling realization commandeered my voice.

The automatic lights came on when I walked through the bathroom door. my short term memory reminded me with warning. That thing is so fucking fickle you breath too heavy it kicks on, and it’s gotta take at least 30 minutes to kick back off. As my conscious evaluated the facts of what I was looking at the twos and twos made a four that began to put me on a very nervous edge.

Nick was not only staring at himself in a mirror in a pitch-black bathroom. He’d been doing It completely still for a long time.

“ Nah, I aint seen him today.” The new hires voice echoed in my head.

“Nick, bud, how long you been in here man? Talk to me.”

At first I thought there was only silence, but as soon as I noticed his hands were now balled into fists, I began to hear a low sound. Deep and guttural and fierce.

Growls.

I began to step back as Nick sprang to life. Sprinting across the tile floor towards me. The once silent bathroom now filled with a frenzy of bloodcurdling screaming.

Every bit of air abandoned my lungs as he barreled into me. Like I’d been hit by a truck. I felt the floor give way from underneath me, and heard the crack of my head against the floor as bright light and searing hot pain blinded me. No sooner had my vision begun to return than I was blinded again, this time the blunt explosive pain of knuckles slamming into my face with tremendous force, I managed to turn my head to the side just in time for another against my cheek bone.

Adrenaline kept me awake, and survival instinct took over. As Nicks’ fist came down for another heavy blow I moved my head completely away from the impact. I could hear a crunching sound beside me as his fist met the hard tile floor. Before he could pull his arm back up, I threw my left fist at him as hard as I could manage. The punch landed, and Nick swayed back a little bit. It wasn’t a lot, but it was just enough for me to pull myself out from under him. As he lunged towards me I brought my foot up and kicked in his direction. It found its mark square against his face, and he howled like an injured wolf as he reeled back and braced for another charge.

Clumsily and effortfully I pulled myself up, and as quickly as I could I charged him first. Screaming once more at the top of his lungs he threw his arms up to grip my chest as I ducked low and gripped his waist. With all my strength I managed to push him into wall behind him, and then off to the left into a bathroom stall, as I released my grip the momentum made him stumble and crash loudly into the toilet, knocking off the plastic lid in the process.

Despite being punched, kicked hard in the face, and now thrown hard into ceramic, the wild animal that was once my friend remained unphased, and his determination to destroy me now seemed stronger than ever. He rushed at me again as I slammed the stall door shut, and propped myself against it with everything I had. I could feel the door moving with every barrage of weight he used to try and slam it back open, as the weight pushed me forward, I’d throw mine to slam it back shut.

It was then I looked to my left and saw the new hire from earlier Standing in the bathroom doorway, eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

“Call the fucking cops you idiot!” I screamed at the top of my lungs over Nicks animal like bellows as another forceful push from the door threatened to send me reeling forward . . .

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ma’am” I said as respectfully as I could muster as I approached the crying woman in the corner of the hospitals waiting room.

As the woman wiped her eyes and looked up at me I found myself reminded of the work friend paradox once more. I couldn’t rightly justify my surprise at Nick having a mother, I mean of course he has a mother. Everyone’s got a mother, but at the same time . . . who’d have thought Nick had a mother?

The look on her face upon noticing me. Followed by the involuntary gasp reminded me that I indeed looked every bit as bad as I felt.

A broken nose, a concussion, three missing teeth on my left, and a black eye that was undoubtedly swollen shut by now.

“My Nicholas did that?”

“I . . .I don’t think it was your boy. I’ve known Nick for a while now, that’s not him.”

Muffled screaming behind the door from somewhere in the back of the hospital seemed to affirm my words.

Four cops and three tasers had finally brought Nick down, and before he could even be sent to the hospital he had to be sedated.

“I just don’t understand!” She blurted out almost too loudly, as though she were being interrogated for the assault and battery she didn’t commit. The words came out as ‘ I just don’t understand’ but they sounded like ‘He’s my son take me instead!’

“I just wanted you to know I’m not going to press charges, and if there’s anything I can do you just let me know alright?” I said nodding my cracked eggshell of a head towards the inner portions of the hospitals.

“He’s a fucking mad dog right now, but he’s our mad dog.”

A sharp guffaw of laughter from Nicks mom before tears began to well once more.

“They just don’t understand.” She said effortfully through tears. “He has no history of this, his toxicology thing came back clean, they don’t think it’s rabies or anything like that. It’s like he’s . . . Possessed or something I just don’t know!”

“I’m sure they’re going to figure it out. It’ll be okay.”

Unconvinced by my horrible attempt at comfort she once more broke into sobs. For awhile I stood there not knowing what to do before I decided leaving her be was the best thing to do for the moment. As I turned to walk away her voice stopped me.

“Wait, actually. There is something you could do. If it isn’t too much to ask.”

​

As I turned the key on the locking mechanism, and opened the door to the dark interior of Nicks apartment I couldn’t help but smile once more at the strange conundrum of our friendship.

Lookie there, he’s got a place he lives in. just like me.

I fumbled around against the walls for a little bit until I managed to find the light switch. I flicked it upwards and illuminated the well-kept apartment.

Okay, I told myself as I made my way through the living room, scanning the furniture around me as I made my way. Grab some clothes, find a phone, no more snooping than needs snooped.

My head and face still ached, but luckily for me doctors have pills for such things, and they were doing a good job. I tried to remember the name of the prescription, but the scientific jumble jargon of its name alluded me for the time being.

Grabbing the clothes was easy enough. When you work with someone every day you tend to know what they wear after all. His cellphone however was a different story, and trying to find it resulted in admittedly a lot more snooping than I had originally intended. His gun collection was impressive, his history related stuff as well. I’d known he was into stuff like that, but to see them first hand put a whole new level of concrete into prior conversations we’d had about it.

It was amid this snooping I heard a soft knock.

At first, I thought someone had thrown something at his window. It was unmistakably the sound of something against glass, and the suddenness of didn’t let me catch where the noise had come from. Still and silent I listened for a few moments before hearing it again.

It was coming from the room across from Nicks bedroom. I hadn’t been in there yet, but I assumed it was the bathroom. I opened the door and sitting on the sink in Nicks bathroom was the small rectangular shape of a cell phone. I flicked the light on and stepped towards the sink, still listening intently for the knocking sounds I had heard just moments prior.

As I gazed up at the mirror I stepped back and let out an involuntary scream. The reflection that should have been staring back at me in the mirror of Nicks bathroom was not me.

To my horror, beyond my belief, the image in the mirror’s reflection was Nick’s, eyes wide with fear. Dark circles under his eyes, banging frantically against the glass. His lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear any noise. Just the faint knocking of his fists against the inside of the mirror.

Shocked beyond comprehension, unable to process it, unable to even react to it. All I could do was stare at the image of my friend in complete fear and confusion.

Call the fucking Cops you idiot! Call the fucking cops you idiot!

Snapping back into reality I fumbled around in my phone pocket for my cellphone and unlocked it to call 911. It was then I noticed the twenty plus missed calls on my screen. The number was Nick’s mothers. Just below was a series of text notifications. My heart sank into my stomach as I read the words of the most recent text. Each one tumbling my heart further down like a Jacobs’ Ladder

New Message: Nicks Mom

Nicks escaped they can’t find him call me!!!!!

As I looked back up to the image of my friend’s mirror shaped prison the lights in the house flicked off, shrouding everything in complete darkness. The light of my phone against the blackness of the windowless bathroom making everything pitch black.

It was then I heard a noise coming from somewhere within the apartment.

A low sound, deep and guttural and fierce. . .

Growls.

I looked around desperately like a cornered animal trying to find its way out of a trap, but I knew that it was hopeless. If I tried to make a break for the door that thing that looked like Nick would certainly find me. If I stayed here in the bathroom then the same fate would surely await me. As I looked around helplessly for some kind of divine intervention or break in my luck, something, anything I hadn’t noticed before. I suddenly remembered the gun collection in Nick’s room. Just across the hall.

None of them would be loaded, but one had a bayonet on it.

As my eyes adjusted, I placed my hand on the doorknob to the bathroom and took several heavy breaths.

Get across the hall, grab the gun with the big ass knife on the front, make a break for the front door.

Get across the hall, grab the gun with the big ass knife on the front, make a break for the front door.

I guess in my nervous anticipation I hadn’t noticed how silent the apartment had gotten. That the growls had stopped, as I threw the bathroom door open and went to sprint towards the bedroom I was met with a stiff force that almost knocked me onto the floor.

As I recoiled and looked towards the threshold of the doorway I could see “Other Nicks” Shadowed frame standing right on the other side of it.

Before I could react, he charged at me. If there had been more space in that little bathroom, he’d have certainly knocked me over and probably beat me to death right there in the darkness, but the impact of his charge instead knocked me into the bathroom sink about waist high. Though the impact against the structure sent shooting pain into my hip the height and weight of it was enough to keep me upright. As “Other Nick” charged me again I threw myself upright and placed both of my hands on his back. Using his momentum to throw his head into the bathroom mirror.

As it turns out this involuntary movement saved my life. I had expected to maybe hear a shatter, or at least the loud thud of “Other Nicks” head against the glass, but instead there was no sound at all. Through the darkness I could see his arms waving around frantically, but where there was once a head I could now only see the tops of his shoulders.

For a moment all I could do was stand there in a state of shock. My mind could hardly process what I was looking at, but as I blinked and stared in fear and confusion the picture before me began to click in my head. Somehow, someway. The same entity that had trapped Nick in the mirror had just trapped “Other Nick” in the same mirror. At least from the neck up. As “Other Nick” continued to flail and attempt to pull himself out of the glass I realized his situation was a hopeless one. He’d decapitate himself before he could pull himself out of the prison I’d accidentally trapped him in. Though it was still dark in the bathroom I could make out Nicks shape standing as close to glass as possible. Moving his arms around with a similar franticness. Knowing there was nothing more that I could do I clumsily and desperately stumbled my way out of the apartment and called the only entity I thought could possibly help. 9-1-1. As It turned out this was a bit out of their league as well.

​

It’s been a week since I discovered Nick trapped inside the bathroom mirror. His entire apartments been shut down, the other tenants evicted and ‘Temporarily’ set up far away in new apartments. They’re saying it’s because of black mold. I might be the only non-government worker who knows that’s not true.

I don’t know why they didn’t take me somewhere. Lock me in a cell or “Suicide” me. Maybe they think all of this sounds way too outlandish for anyone to possibly believe, but I couldn’t just keep something like this to myself. I made it a week without telling anyone before the guilt and fear of it all just kind of took over, I guess. I don’t know what I hate more, my inability to keep a secret, or my ability to abandon a friend I know needs help for that long. I don’t know how long Nick can stay in that mirror without starving to death. I don’t know how long anyone can stay in that mirror with “Other Nick” growling and screaming, trying to kill anything that gets in its way. If I’ve ever prayed for anything it’s that God would make all of this just a horrible dream, or to save my friend from the horrible fate he’s been thrown into, but I honestly never really believed that God was real. . . Then again, I never believed that any of this could be real either. . .