Chapter 31

Ferris long had an exhausting day. He finished dinner and washed the cutlery and pots. He flicked through the TV channels but decided to get into a steamy bath since there was nothing of interest on TV. He ran the water, and soon the bathroom was filled with hot steam.

Ferris got into the tub and submerged his body almost completely. Already he felt better. He could feel the day's hard work and stress being absorbed by the magic of the water. He started to relax and soon a sense of calmness filled his mind. Ferris's thoughts drifted towards the day's events. He liked his new manager, Craig Edison, but he knew that a new manager would call for new ways of doing things. There was no doubt in Ferris's mind that Craig knew what he was doing. He was meticulous in most of the things he did. Ferris doubted if Craig was the new broom type of guy. Usually, all new people had something to prove and therefore worked hard to either, impress others, or to show what they were worth to the company. Ferris knew that Craig was different from the rest. He had integrity in what he did. Ferris had many years of experience in the field, but he knew Craig was a man he could learn a lot from.

Ferris opened the hot water tap and observed the nails on his left hand. Impossible, Ferris thought. He compared them to the ones on his right. They were considerably longer than the ones on his right hand. Besides the length, something about them was different. They had a slight yellow colour. Ferris frowned as he inspected them closely. He tested the ugly yellowish nail of his index finger by gently nibbling on it with his front teeth. They were tough and hard. Much tougher than the nails on his other hand.

Ferris felt a rush of frustration. He looked at the strange occurrence in disbelief. There were things attached to his fingers, which were not his own. He discovered something more repulsive. There were some odd bumps on top of his left hand, almost like a rash, just slightly larger. He gently stroked his finger over them. They were hard and dead, like the skin of a reptile.

Ferris tried to remember if he had worked with something toxic or hazardous but he had spent most of his day in the office catching up with administrative work. An unsettling memory started to surface until it filled his mind. The night in The Captain's Barn Pub a few weeks ago. Ferris tried to push the memory from his mind, but it was too late. It all starts with your left hand. Watch your left hand and remember who you fucked with on this day. Ferris could still hear the young man's voice. It was as clear as if he relived the moment of that night. The same fears and anxieties entered his mind. Ferris looked at his hand again. He knew none of it was normal. He did not believe in black magic or evil spirits, but somehow he had a terrible feeling he could not shake. Those boys from the pub that night were not only evil, but they also meant what they had said.

Ferris got the nail clippers from the cupboard and returned to the tub where he could soak the ugly attachments on his left hand before he could trim them. They were tough to cut, with almost the same texture as hard plastic. Trimming them was not the problem. Ferris was more concerned with the colour and the rash on his skin. He stared at the ceiling and breathed deeply to clear his mind from any negative emotions or fearful though. His hand would be better the next morning and all of this would be over. Maybe he had been working with a toxic substance after all.

Ferris dried himself and stood in front of the mirror. He could not see his face. The steam had concealed any form of reflection. He wiped a large portion of the mirror with his towel and jumped to the site of the thing he had just seen in the mirror. He could feel his heart pumping in his neck. There had been something on his face a moment ago. He came closer to the mirror, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing at all. For a moment, Ferris thought he was going crazy. Although his left hand was no imaginary matter, he could have sworn his face turned into something demonic seconds ago.

He brushed his teeth and rinsed his mouth. When he looked up from the basin, he was stunned. He knew it could not be his imagination this time. Neither could it be a reflection. Something like this has never happened in all the years he had been living in his house. To the left of his face, he could see his skull through the facial tissue. His skull did not have a normal white colour. It was dark brown, almost like it had been dug out of the ground after many years. Ferris closed his eyes for a moment praying, trying to block out what he thought he saw. He opened them again, realising prayer had power after all. He was relieved to see his face was his own again. He touched the left side of it with his fingertips and realized he had been holding his breath ever since the distorted reflection. Ferris wondered what could have caused such an odd thing to happen. He shook his head. He felt more tired than ever.