Body Flicker Novels & Stories

"Reflect it. Throw the noise back ." Understanding flickers in their detached eyes. A spark. They raise the jagged piece of Mirror. It catches the chaotic, pulsing light of the sanctuary, the warped colors bleeding in from outside. For a second, nothing. Then… a high-pitched screech , like feedback magnified a thousandfold, erupts from the shard. Not directed at me. Outwards. Into the psychic maelstrom.

Gazing back at my new mountain thoughtfully, something catches the corner of my eye and makes me turn instinctively. The sun dazzles a little speck, a tiny flicker of white spark which seems to bounce at me across to the right, but when I turn to look properly, I can’t see where it came from. The trees sway, covering any chance of seeing it at first. I wait with held breath for the sway back again, wondering if I imagined it, but there it is, a little flicker of reaction in a pop of clearing, almost like a light, shining Morse code sparkles at me, and then it’s gone as the trees sway back again. The organic flow of their movement closing and opening the gap where it peeks out.

I said to myself I paused the movie and held the music box, the music wasn’t audible but I could hear the tone, my hands began itching me immediately after I held the box, it was like it was burning, and I plopped the box on the floor and the music stopped. My heart raced fast as I noticed my hands were burnt “How is that possible” I panicked I rushed to my room and applied an ointment to my hand. After I applied the ointment, I went back to the living room and sat down before I pressed play, but the remote didn’t work, I tried again and the television went off

I only had to observe, why Lucien did most of the talking. But then the screen flickered. Just once, like static. I blinked and took a sip of water. The taste burned down my throat. I coughed lightly, thinking maybe it was just dryness. But the burning didn’t stop. My pulse quickened. The words around me began to blur, as though I were underwater. The voices in the room merged into a single, indistinct hum. Something was wrong. I turned away from the screen, trying to steady my breathing, but when I looked back, I saw people gasping, faces turning toward the projection with horror.

I wasn’t going to let anyone make me look insane again. I went back to the monitor and zoomed in on another camera. On the right edge, something glimmered for a second. A metallic flash. Like a blade. The same kind of reflection I’d seen in my nightmares. I replayed the clip over and over, freezing the same second again and again. But when I tried to pause the image, the system froze. The screen flickered, then went black. The beeping of the monitor startled me. The backyard camera had stopped transmitting.

The phone glitched instantly. The screen flickered violently. Messages overlapped. Corrupted. Unreadable. The hum in the room spiked sharply. Then broke. A loud crack echoed through the space. The walls shifted again. More violently this time. “That’s it,” the other me said quietly. “Keep going.” I didn’t stop. Didn’t slow down. I threw the phone against the wall. It hit hard. Then dropped. Still flickering. Still glitching. The room reacted immediately. The floor trembled slightly.

The computer stirred, its fans humming to life, and the monitors flickered with renewed vitality. As the computer came to life before our eyes, the monitors flickering with a pale glow, I couldn't help but glance at Lucian, eager to witness his reaction. It dawned on me that this might be his first encounter with such advanced technology. His eyes widened, a mix of awe and curiosity dancing within them. He leaned in closer, his gaze fixated on the illuminated screens. The faint glow cast intricate patterns of light and shadow across his features, accentuating the intensity of his focus.

Then, everything shifted, and the world began to crinkle up at the edges and fade to black. It stayed that way long enough to make me uncomfortable such that I almost backed out of it. But then, just when I was near to abandoning ship, static charged my line of vision like when an old television set is fighting to get a signal, and I used all of my strength to focus on that flickering, to bring it into view.

The man typed quickly on the computer, and the images appeared on the monitors. Alexei crossed his arms, his eyes fixed on the screens. The first few minutes showed only snow falling in front of the gates. Then a staff member doing the shift change, the steam of his breath visible in the cold air. A few more minutes. Still nothing. Then the image froze. For exactly one second, the screen flickered, an almost imperceptible glitch. When it returned, the clock in the upper right corner had jumped forward almost four minutes. Alexei remained completely still.

The security camera’s red light was blinking—once, twice… then it held solid. From the screen came a faint click. And then— The feed went black.