Body Flicker Novels & Stories

My eyelids flutter open, but the world is an unfocused blur. A sharp sting pulls at the edges of my vision, making it hard to concentrate. My eyes feel as though they’ve been sealed shut, like it was crusted with remnants of dried blood and sweat. Each blink is like scraping sandpaper against my skin. I barely manage to peel them open and, for a moment, all I can see is the dim flicker of a single lantern swaying above me, casting erratic shadows on the four corners of the canvas walls around me. The lantern’s light dances wildly, its movements jarring and unpredictable. It’s like the flickering of my thoughts—disjointed, fragmented, struggling to come together.

"You okay?" "Yeah." I answered, blinking my way back to the present. "Can you just—get me some water. Please." I could feel her gaze on my skin. I kept my eyes on a fixed point on the wall and kept my body completely still and after a moment I heard her set the laptop down and get up. I breathed in and out slowly It's not the same thing, I told myself. It's not about you. I pressed my nails harder into my palm, my feet tapping the ground in irregular rhythms.

Then I changed my expression to anger as I watched the corner next to the light bulb somewhat shake. If anyone saw me they would think that I was deep in thought. A few pieces of stone fell down from the floor. I crawled to my bed and lay down facing the light bulb in the room that flickered. This was also the only light in the room. Under my breath, I counted the seconds as the light bulb. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…" Flicker "One, two, three, four, five…" Flicker "One, two..”

"Now. Try holding it while moving. Reach toward me, slowly, and see if you can keep the light steady the whole way." I stepped forward, palm outstretched, concentrating hard on keeping the glow even and controlled. It flickered once, dimmed, and I pulled back sharply, frustration flaring before I caught it. "Don't panic when it wavers," Halric said. "Panic is what turns a flicker into an earthquake. Breathe through it instead." I tried again. This time when the light dimmed, I forced myself to breathe slow instead of clenching down harder, and the glow steadied back out, warm and golden, obedient for the first time since any of this had started.

I said while folding my arms across my chest. “It is precise,” he corrected while switching to another camera feed. The back garden appeared. The stone wall. The edge of the property. Another pause. “That one too,” he said quietly. My stomach dropped. “Do not say that casually,” I muttered while rubbing my hands together. He replayed footage from the previous night. At 2:17 a.m., the screen flickered for half a second. Then it resumed. “That flicker is not weather interference,” he said while stepping back from the screen.

Death with no promise of ease. As if they’d drilled together, Will and Foley split up. Keeping to either side of the floater, they circled the horror, staying just out of reach. Tottering, grasping, swinging its arms in flailing arcs, it lurched now toward one, now toward the other, a watery growl gurgling up from its sodden lungs.

But as I tear them away to see what the new threat could be, the ice-blue lightning vanishes to leave orange afterimages dancing over my retinas. As the images die, I look up to the source of the lightning. Click! The camera light flickers. It flickers again, then winks out. And the darkness is complete. Darkness falls.

Disposable. “Threat level: high.” “Understood.” But as I stare at the screen— something strange happens. Not strong. Not clear. But there. A flicker. A distortion. Like something inside me is trying to… react. My fingers twitch slightly. “Anomaly detected,” the system notes instantly. My body stills. “Correcting.” Pain hits. Sharp. Immediate. Controlled. The flicker disappears. Gone. Like it never existed. “Status?”

The seal-like mark on her palm was still faintly glowing. FLICKER! Suddenly, the lights in the room began to flicker again. It was terrifying for those in the room, especially the fish tanks containing the grotesque half-human, half-aquatic test subjects. The sight was always revolting. The temperature started to drop, and they began to shiver. The shadows of the strange creatures became more distorted and terrifying in this situation. FLICKER! BANG! All the lights went out. The room was so dark they couldn't see anything. Then, a large gust of wind seemed to sweep past them, making them stagger.

By midnight, I was alone. Then I heard it. A soft ping. The alert. My pulse raced as I switched views. Same camera. Same dead frame. Just a wall and two windows. I groaned and tilted my head toward the ceiling. “Seriously?! I fixed everything! There are no glitches!” Frustrated, I looked again. And then I saw it. A flicker. A reflection in the glass. My breath hitched. My fingers trembled as I zoomed in on the window. I cleaned up the frame. Focused.