Chapter 05: Fractured Realities
Elaine’s pulse quickened as she stared at the reflection in the mirror. It was her face, but not entirely. There was something different in the way her eyes gleamed, something chilling in the curve of her smile. Her reflection seemed to take on a life of its own, independent of her movements.
This can’t be real, she thought, her breath shallow. It’s just stress. It’s all in my mind.
But even as she told herself this, the reflection continued to smile, its expression growing more knowing, more sinister.
Elaine stepped back, her heart pounding in her chest. She raised a hand, trying to steady herself, but the reflection mimicked her actions too slowly, as if savoring her growing anxiety. Then, it did something she didn’t expect—it winked at her.
Elaine gasped and stumbled back. The mirror seemed to warp slightly, the edges blurring for just a moment before everything returned to normal.
What is happening to me?
With trembling hands, she pulled her phone from her pocket, her thoughts racing. She dialed Amir’s number, praying he would answer, but the line went straight to voicemail. Panic surged in her chest.
She couldn’t stay in her office. The walls felt like they were closing in, and the fear that had been creeping up on her for days was now an overwhelming tide, ready to drown her.
She grabbed her things—her coat, purse, and the patient files—and rushed out of the office, not bothering to lock the door behind her. The cold air of the early morning hit her face as she stepped into the street. She walked quickly, not looking back.
Elaine arrived at Amir’s office just before noon. Her mind was still reeling from the bizarre encounter in the mirror. The reflection had seemed so real, so impossibly real. She had to find answers, and Amir was the only person who might know how to help.
Amir’s receptionist, a young woman named Sarah, gave her a sympathetic look when she arrived. “Dr. Harper, Amir’s expecting you.”
Elaine didn’t wait for Sarah to lead her to Amir’s office. She walked straight past her and knocked on the door.
“Elaine!” Amir’s voice sounded strained, and he opened the door quickly, ushering her in. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days—his face pale, eyes bloodshot.
“What’s happening?” Elaine asked, her voice urgent. “Amir, something is wrong. I—”
He motioned for her to sit, closing the door behind her. “I know,” he said quietly. “And I’m afraid it’s worse than I thought.”
Elaine collapsed into the chair, her hands clutching the arms, feeling as if they might slip away from her at any moment.
“Tell me everything you’ve experienced. The dreams, the whispers, the reflections. You’re not the only one, Elaine. You need to understand that.”
Elaine inhaled sharply. “I’ve been seeing the man in the blue jacket. It’s not just in my dreams anymore. I saw him in a photograph. And last night… last night, I saw him in the mirror. My reflection—it… it wasn’t mine.”
Amir nodded slowly, as if he had been expecting this. “I’ve been researching, Elaine. This man, this figure—he’s not just an ordinary figment of the mind. There are patterns in the cases I’ve seen. It’s as if he’s a part of something larger, something that goes beyond the individual.”
Elaine frowned. “What do you mean, beyond the individual?”
“Think about it,” Amir said. “Your patients, Michael and Charlotte—they all have one thing in common. They’re not just dreaming about this man. They’re seeing him, and they’re experiencing things that aren’t their own. Memories, sensations—they’re tapping into something that’s not their reality. And now… now it’s starting to affect you.”
Elaine felt a cold dread settle in her chest. “How is that even possible?”
Amir stood up and began pacing, clearly agitated. “There’s a theory in psychology, Elaine—about the collective unconscious. It’s the idea that there are shared memories, experiences, and symbols embedded in our minds, passed down through generations. What if this man in the blue jacket is connected to that? What if he’s a manifestation of something much older, something deep within the human psyche?”
Elaine shook her head, trying to process what he was saying. “Are you saying this is all just in my head?”
“No,” Amir said, his voice firm. “I think it’s more than that. I think this figure represents something, a force that’s leaking through into your reality. And the more you interact with it, the stronger it becomes.”
Elaine stood abruptly, her hands clenched at her sides. “How do we stop it?”
Amir hesitated, his expression grave. “I don’t know. But I think we need to find out more about this figure. The man in the blue jacket—who he is, what he represents. And I think we need to go deeper into your own mind. You’re connected to this in ways you don’t even understand.”
Elaine’s head spun. “You want me to… what? Dive deeper into my own mind? Like a guided therapy session?”
Amir met her gaze, his eyes shadowed with concern. “Not just that. I’m talking about regression therapy. It’s risky, but if we can trace the origins of this figure, maybe we can sever the connection. If it’s in your subconscious, we need to confront it directly.”
Elaine stepped back, her mind racing. Regression therapy? The idea felt terrifying, like opening a door that she wasn’t sure she could close again.
She wanted to say no, to walk away from this, to pretend none of it was happening. But deep down, she knew she couldn’t.
She nodded slowly. “Let’s do it.”
Later that evening, in the privacy of Amir’s office, Elaine lay on the couch, eyes closed, trying to steady her breathing. Amir stood beside her, his voice calm and steady.
“I want you to relax, Elaine. Focus on your breathing. Allow yourself to drift into a deeper state of awareness. Let go of the surface thoughts and go deeper.”
Elaine nodded, her mind already clouded with uncertainty. The room seemed to grow darker around her, the air heavy.
“You are safe here,” Amir continued. “Now, I want you to picture yourself standing in front of a door. It’s a door that leads to something—something buried deep within your mind. What do you see?”
Elaine hesitated, feeling the weight of the question press down on her. Slowly, she spoke. “It’s a wooden door. Old, creaky. I don’t want to open it, but I have to.”
“Good,” Amir said. “Now, I want you to open it. And as you step through, tell me what you see.”
Elaine took a deep breath, bracing herself for whatever lay beyond. She opened the door and stepped forward, the floor beneath her feet cold and unfamiliar.
“What’s there?” Amir’s voice seemed distant, yet urgent.
Elaine’s voice wavered. “It’s… a room. A dark room. But there’s something in the corner. Someone…”
She froze, her eyes wide with fear.
“It’s him,” she whispered. “The man in the blue jacket. He’s standing there, waiting for me.”
