Through the unconscious faze and the stuffy air of the hospital room. Patient number #306, has been unconscious for the past decade. No one knows who he is, or where he came from. His age was uncertain but assumed to be in his twenties.

Chris's body continued to remain limp, as he was still unresponsive to any sort of voices, noises, or his surroundings. There was no waking him up, only time could tell. Every so often, a nurse would catch a glimpse of one of his pale fingers twitching. It was almost as if it was a sign. A sign that he would return from his long slumber.

It was still uncertain how he got here. Could it have been that he got knocked on the side of the head? Or maybe it was his body who did it. Nevertheless, the truth would forever be a secret.

But sometimes the body might not be awake from the outside but from the inside. The body was merely a prison to the conscious state. In consideration, he was nothing more than a corpse at this point. But something was going on inside his mind as if there was another world to walk around in.

The dark skies and smoky-looking clouds took form as this was the first time Chris has ever seen this world or in any sort of consciousness. His eyes wandered to his own hands as he inspected them. Raising them ever so slowly, it has been a long time since he remembered what he looked like. Now turn them over, too look at the palms of his hands.

He then placed his hands on his cheeks. It was quite odd, his cheeks felt cold. That wasn't the only odd thing. It was due to the fact he could feel his freezing, pale, cheeks. This was not some dream, nor some lucid dream. His consciousness was still awake, but just inside his mind.

His eyes continue to wander down to his shoulders. His hair was starting to get long, it already touched the top of his shoulders. He couldn't remember the last time he grew it out his long.

Chris's brown eyes soon wandered down to his clothing. It was no longer the hospital gown, but a refined suit. Everything from, a white dress shirt, and black dress pants, to the black suit jacket and black tie. The shiny buttons on the edge of the sleeves were telling him that this wasn't a cheap suit.

Was he some businessman? Perhaps a detective?

His head was starting to ache, just thinking about it. It was difficult trying to remember what happened. Every time he tried to think about it the world around him would get darker and darker. The feeling of gravity and pressure was weighing down on him. He felt as if he was a dense object getting compressed. His footsteps continued to get heavier and heavier.

Chris didn't know where he was going, he just kept walking, hoping that he might find a way out of his own prison. With each step, the world around him started to scatter and change. He was no longer outside, but a hallway soon formed around him.

Eventually, a scarlet red door appeared at the end of the hallway. His head turned ever so slowly behind him. He saw nothing but the darkness of a void. The darkness twisted and swirled as if it was some sort of mist.

His attention soon turned back to the red door at the end of the hall. Chris happened to notice the wall was coated in stumpy white and yellow candles. The small embers burned bright as the wax already started pooling to the side of the candles. Above and below the candles were many paintings that were hard to see.

Chris's attention then turned to a candleholder. It sat untouched on the table that continued to collect dust. The gold paint on the candleholder already started to tear and fall off.

Chris then brought his hand up to the candleholder and grasped it. He was hoping this would light up the rest of his way and maybe explain what he was doing here.

As he made his way down the caliginous corridor, he didn't waste his time looking at the various paintings. Painting by painting, he brought the candle holder up to each and every one of them. The large painting that is framed in an obsidian frame, was an old woman in a black wedding gown. The veil concealed her face, as the only part of her face that he could see, was her lips. Her sharp lips were pulled into a grin, making Chris's stomach twist.

This was the woman that haunted him in his dreams. A woman who would torment and scare the living life out of him. Sometimes he wondered if she had already stolen some of his life.

The next painting was a bit smaller than the last one. It was a painting that portrayed a demon. A black and white painting that only showed the upper half of the demonic creature's body. Its face was looking to the side and obscured in a black shade of lighting. Its horns are curled in a circular motion on both sides of the head.

Chris's head soon began to throb. Just looking at this painting was starting to make him feel sick. The anxiety crept up from the bottom of his stomach as it was starting to get worse and worse. Every time he got closer and closer to that red door, it was making him more curious about what was on the other side.

The last painting at the end of the hallway made him even more intrigued. The painting was in a circular frame that was tilted slightly to the left. Chris knitted his brows as he brought his hand up to touch the painting. Black paint soon coated his fingers tips, as this was a painting that was just made.

A painting of him.

He looks exactly how he was dressed right now. His hair was styled the same way, and his thin eyebrows are slightly arched. The two rings on his bottom lip still looked striking. His eyes are dark and a black shade of eyeshadow is coated around both eyes, almost as if he hasn't slept in a decade.

Chris finally pulls away and sets the candleholder down at the table at the end of the hallway. He didn't even notice the hourglass was still running. The black sand continued to pour. It has been running ever since he entered the room.

His eyes are now set on the golden knob of the crimson door. His heart soon started to beat faster and faster as his hand reached for the doorknob. He is only seconds away from knowing what is on the other side of the door. Chris finally turns the door handle.

The last piece of sand finally joined its brothers and sisters.

With slow, but careful steps he makes his way into a small room. As he enters the room, the door slowly closes behind him. His gaze is now set on a wide mirror that is placed on the wall. He could see nothing more than him making his way towards the mirror and the red door behind him. The room is dark and a few candles are hung on the ceiling.

Chris finally stops in front of the mirror. He stares at his reflection for a moment before craning his neck forward. He tilts his head slowly to the right, then to the left. But as he tilts it back to a straight position and stares at his motionless expression, he stops. A sinister grin then tugs at his reflections' lips and raises his eyebrows for a second, before dropping.

Christopher's body is starting to tremble, his hands are starting to shake as his reflection continues to grin at him. The reflection places its hands in its pockets as it raises its head proudly.

The paranoia started to sink its teeth into Chris. Something was behind him. He spun his heel and turned to face whatever that was behind him. Shivers ran down his spine as he saw nothing but the same red door.

His breath continued to quiver as he felt anger rising from his gut. The next time he spun around to look at the mirror, he saw not only his sinister self but the demon and the old woman next to him.

In a state of panic, Chris spun around with his fists drawn. But to only see nothing.

Was it his mind continuing to inflict fear and pain? Or was this a way of fighting his inner demons?

Chris made his final stand.

"What do you want?!" Chris screamed at the mirror. His sinister self ignored him and started to feed on his frustration, it laughed at him in response.

Christopher's fingers soon started to twitch and form into fists. His head once again started to beat like a drum. It was getting louder and louder and louder until he couldn't take it anymore.

Chris's hands then started to run through his hair. He took clumps of hair into his grasp and started to pull. He wanted to leave so bad. Chris wished he would have never opened that red door. He should have turned back and left.

When he looked back at the mirror his sinister self had its arm extended forward with a loaded gun in its hand. It was pointed straight at him.

Chris's fists were soon starting to turn white by increasing the pressure. He couldn't take it anymore.

"No! Please! Please! Just leave me alone!!!" he continued to scream. His sinister self continued to ignore his screams and cries for mercy.

BAM!

Blood splattered onto the door that was once behind him. Chris's body was now on the floor with blood pooling at his head. The perfect shot to the forehead now leaking remnants of smoke soon stopped.

Satisfied with his work, Chris's reflection soon turned around and exited through the red door. As he entered the hallway, the hourglass's sand started bringing the sand back to the top and restarting the clock. With each step further into the hallway, the candles then started going out one by one. The trail of fire continued forward as the ones behind him became extinguished.

He finally stops and grabs a singular candle. The reflection continued to grin as he stared at the dancing ember. Slowly, he brought the candle close to his lips and blew it out.

Chris suddenly jolts awake, nearly taking the IV line with him as he falls onto the floor. Sweat coats his forehead as his hair is now stuck to his face. His ragged breath continued as he thought back to the 'dream' he had. It felt so real to him. The scorching bullet escapes the chamber and renders into his forehead.

But reality suddenly came back to him. He's awake. Chris is finally awake. A smile soon formed on the end of his lips. He was finally back.

Thank you all for getting this far and to the end of my short story. At one point in this story, I started experiencing a bit of anxiety and fear when writing this. Possibly one of the scariest stories I'll ever write. Please do tell me what you thought and felt when reading this down in the comment section. Otherwise, I do hope you enjoyed it! (If this caused bad fear/anxiety I apologize.)