He Wears My Face pt 3

Jordan found it difficult to fall asleep the next few nights. But he didn’t wake up to anything strange until the following week. Just as he’d relaxed into thinking it had been a strange form of night terrors, he woke to the sensation of something sitting on his chest. And there was the awful, rotten stench burning his nostrils. And when he opened his eyes, he had the strange feeling he was looking into a mirror, his blood-shot eyes staring back at him.

But then he blinked a few times and the feeling evaporated. Jordan sat up and looked around the room, thinking he’d find his cat or something. Anything logical to be the explanation of what had just happened. But there was nothing.

It was only four in the morning, but he was wide awake now. Jordan shuffled across the room to his desk and opened a search bar on his computer. Then he hesitated, fingers over the keys. What could he even look up? There wasn’t anything substantial about what had been happening.

Someone’s in my room, but I can’t see them. I think they’re following me

Jordan hesitated before hitting ‘search.’ He didn’t think it would bring up anything real. And he was mostly right.