“I saw that face again,” Jon remarked to his roommate.
“What, like in here?” Andy didn’t look up from his computer.
“No, it was a dream. But still…”
Andy kept playing his game and after a few minutes, Jon sighed and walked away.
As Jon drove home, he couldn’t stop yawning. He’d stayed longer than he was scheduled and he was drained. It didn’t help that he wasn’t sleeping.
He came to a stop at the next red light and started awake two seconds later. He looked up, grateful to see that the light was green. He pressed on the accelerator, but just as he pulled forward, he saw the face again. It was on the corner of the street, its body enveloped in darkness.
Jon slammed on his breaks, his heart pounding in his ears. When he looked again, it was gone.
Hunched in the corner of the interrogation room, Jon kept his arms folded and his mouth shut. He knew that if he told them, they were sure to lock him up forever.
The wispy voice rang in his ears, taunting him. The face hovered two inches in front of him.
“Kill them, Jon. Kill them all.”
The rules for Sunday Photo Fiction are to create a story/poem or something using around 200 words with the photo as a guide, although it doesn’t have to be center stage. This one comes in at 201 words.
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