Black Petals Issue #108, Summer, 2024

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A Tension Economy: Fiction by Adam Parker
Body Canvas: Fiction by James McIntire
Emergence: Fiction by M. W. Lockwood
Gibbous Moon over Manderson: Fiction by Daniel Snethen
Morning Rush: Fiction by Mark Mitchell
The APP: Fiction by J. Elliott
The Fanbase: Fiction by Gabriel White
The Pocket: Fiction by Randall Avilez
Laughter and the Devil: Fiction by Nemo Arator
Bed Bugs: Flash Fiction by Zvi A. Sesling
Not a Pebble: Flash Fiction by K. J. Watson
Sleepless: Flash Fiction by David Barber
The Abyss' Embrace: Flash Fiction by Daniel Lenois
The Dispossession: Flash Fiction by Alan Watkins
Unfinished Business: Flash Fiction by Charles C. Cole
Do Not Touch: Flash Fiction by Samantha Brooke
Ghost: Poem by Michael Pendragon
Dark Mistress: Poem by Michael Pendragon
A Pocket of Time: Poem by Joseph Danoski
Nothing in the Night: Poem by Joseph Danoski
The Last Tenant in a House out of Time: Poem by Joseph Danoski
Disassembly: Mine: Poem by Anthony Berstein
The Dream House of Abominations: Poem by Anthony Bernstein
4 Untitled Haiku: Haiku by Ayaz Daryl Nielsen
Time Eaters and 2 Untitled Haiku: Poems by Christopher Hivner
Mary and Polidori: Poem by Kenneth Vincent Walker
Slither Away: Poem by Kenneth Vincent Walker
The Hotel LaNeau: Poem by Sandy DeLuca
The Girl from Providence: Poem by Sandy DeLuca
Returning Home: Poem by Sophia Wiseman-Rose
The Good Stepmother: Poem by Peter Mladinic
Airtime: Poem by Peter Mladinic
Gloria: Poem by Peter Mladinic
There Was a Father: Poem by Peter Mladinic
Toll Booth: Poem by Leyla Guirand
This Hour: Poem by Leyla Guirand
Urban: Poem by Simon MacCulloch

Samantha Brooke: Do Not Touch

108_bp_donottouch_bernice.jpeg
Art by Bernice Holtzman © 2024

Do Not Touch

by

Samantha Brooke

 

WARNING! DO NOT TOUCH! This exhibit is cursed, and has brought great misfortune and harm upon people in the past. For your own safety, please do not attempt to touch it. Taking photographs of the exhibit is also prohibited. Thank you for your understanding.

 “That is so lame,” Amy scoffed. “Why would they put up a dumb sign like that?”

 “They've obviously just made it up to try and get this place a bit of publicity,” Claire said. She scuffed the toe of her trainer upon the hard floor and shrugged, looking around. “Let's face it, they're not exactly attracting many visitors, are they?”

 A wicked grin spread across Amy's face then. “You know what would be fun? If one of us touched it! We can film ourselves doing it.”

 “That doesn't sound fun to me,” Harry said, sullenly. He was only there reluctantly, the two girls having dragged him along. If it wasn't for the fact that he fancied Claire, and was trying to impress her, he would not have been there at all. “Why don't we just go and grab some food, and then head to the cinema? They're showing that new horror film.”

 “Ugh. Boring... “ Amy dismissed the suggestion with an impatient wave of her hand. “No - we're doing this.”

 “But – “

 “Unless you're too scared, of course?” she cut across him as he tried to protest. His gaze flickered towards Claire, who was watching them both with amusement. Her left eyebrow quirked up, challenging him with the gesture.

 “Of course I'm not scared, he snorted. Get your cameras ready.”

 Amy whooped triumphantly, while Claire laughed. Feeling emboldened, Harry stepped closer to the exhibit. It was enclosed by a glass covering - so he reached out and lifted the transparent box away, revealing the piece itself. Beside him, both girls had their phones out, pointing right at him.

 “It doesn't look like anything special to me,” he said, with a deliberate display of bravado. “It's just a scruffy old mirror.”

 “It's definitely ugly,” Claire agreed. “I wouldn't want that thing in my house.”

 “Go on, then - touch it,” Amy said.

 Harry felt his heart quicken despite himself. Determined not to show his trepidation, however, he reached out his fingers towards the surface of the age-spotted glass. He could see his own reflection looking back at him as he did so, the image slightly distorted for some reason. He frowned, his fingers brushing against the mirror. It felt icy cold to the touch...

 Both girls cheered - but they were interrupted by a sudden, loud yell from across the room.

 “Hey - stop that! Don't touch the mirror!”

 Harry looked up with a gasp. One of the uniformed museum workers had entered and was now striding towards them, looking angry.

 “Run,” Amy instructed, without missing a beat. He didn't need telling twice. With his two friends at his heels, he turned and raced for the nearest exit - the man still yelling in their wake.

 He raced down the steps and out of the building - he couldn't seem to stop running, even as he headed out into the middle of a busy road…

 A flash of sunlight on metal blinked in the corner of his eye, just before he felt the impact of the car smash into his body. A deafening scream rose up harshly into the air - and then he knew no more.

*

It wasn't until two months after Harry's funeral that Claire was able to bring herself to watch the footage they had filmed on that fateful day in the museum. She sat on her bed, heart pounding as she pressed the play button on her phone. Her hand shook...

 Grief twisted in her stomach and a painful lump lodged itself into her throat at the sight of Harry...

 It all happened just as she remembered it, as she watched through her tears. He had pulled the glass covering away, reached out and touched the supposedly cursed mirror -

 A gasp was torn from her then, and her body grew icy cold. For there, on the video, she could see something that she had not seen on that day of her friend's tragic demise.

 As he approached the mirror, his reflection had become visible in the glass. Only, she could see now that it had not been a reflection of how he had actually looked in that moment. Instead, the face that was shown in that mirror was mangled and bloodied. One side of his head smashed in from the impact of where it had hit the road, and his neck bent horribly...

 His reflection in the mirror showed just what had happened to him, only moments after he had touched it. Claire dropped her phone with a scream.

End

Samantha has been writing horror fiction for over a decade, ever since completing a writing course in 2012. Since that time, she has completed three novels, the most recent of which is currently being looked at by agents. She also regularly writes short stories and poetry for magazines, and has had work published in both England and America. Her website can be found at https://samanthabrookehorrorstories.wordpress.com/ When not writing herself, she is also a short story competition judge for Reedsy.

Bernice Holtzman’s paintings and collages have appeared in shows at various venues in Manhattan, including the Back Fence in Greenwich Village, the Producer’s Club, the Black Door Gallery on W. 26th St., and one other place she can’t remember, but it was in a basement, and she was well received. She is the Assistant Art Director for Yellow Mama.

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