Red Eyes - A short horror story

Please don't feel you have to answer all of these - you can choose a number - any feedback is helpful!
1. I'm looking for your overall reaction - was this story scary, interesting, boring, redundant?
2. Do you think the 2nd person from the character's  point of view worked? Would it have been better in 3rd or 1st person?
3. My goal was to have the twist at the end stick. I didn't want anyone to guess to soon but planted an idea early. In your opinion would it have worked better or worse to have the funeral guests see red eyes or not see red eyes? Remember, I want the ending to be a surprise. Think... The Sixth Sense. Could the ending have wrapped it up more? Endings are HARD!
4. This was my first use of an unreliable narrator - any tips?
5. Grammar, Spelling, Run on sentences - this is only a second draft .

Red Eyes

The fire investigator had estimated that the fire’s temperature reached upwards of 3000 degrees Fahrenheit. It was odd how you remembered that detail.

You took a deep breath and released it slowly as you stood staring through the kitchen’s sliding glass doors. The darkness outside mirrored your mood. It had been a long and dreadful day. You looked at your phone for the time. It was nine o’clock in the evening.  You had finally stolen a moment away from the crowd of friends and family who had gathered together to both mourn your brother Evan’s passing and celebrate his life. You needed a moment, just a moment alone.

You moved over to the sink and began to wash dishes.  A mechanical action really, you didn’t notice the warmth of the water or the smell of the soap or even if you had managed to clean them properly. It was a mindless activity, one that you could have done in your sleep. Perhaps you were sleeping, perhaps this was a nightmare and you would soon awaken.

A noise outside distracted you from your wishful thinking.  You dried your hands on a dish towel and moved back over to the sliding glass doors. For a brief, moment you thought you saw a man. A man who looked like...Evan. Of course, your eyes and your mind were playing tricks on you. Evan was dead, and this much you knew. Of course, you hadn’t seen the body...the casket had been closed. Evan’s body had been charred and rendered unrecognizable in the fire. You wondered how the temperature of that fire compared to hell. You remembered how Daddy used to preach. How he had warned you that the wages of sin are death.  How whenever he had caught you lying, he pounded his fist on the kitchen table and barked a passage from the Bible. “All liars shall have their part in the lake of fire!”

Another noise outside brought you back to the moment. You opened the sliding glass door, expecting to see one of the mourners who may have gone out for a smoke, a man that you might have mistaken for Evan, but instead it was Evan. Impossible, but true!

“Evan,” you cried out! It’s really you, you’re not dead!

But he just stood there stiffly, his face was bereft of emotion. He moved towards you to come inside as you reached out to hug him. You pulled him close to you. But his embrace was cold. You sensed something wasn’t right, something was off. Of course, it was off. Evan was dead, yet he was standing here. He was solid, not a ghost, not a hallucination, not a figment of your imagination. Or was he? Had your grief made you crazy? Who, if not Evan, had been cremated? Who, if not Evan, was he?

“Evan, we thought you were dead” you said softly, as you wiped your dry eyes in disbelief.

Tears had long ceased and your eyes were as dry as the well of your soul. You looked up into his eyes. The brown eyes you knew so well, but who was behind them? He looked like Evan, but you knew it couldn’t be Evan. It couldn’t be and it wasn’t, because Evan was dead.

He turned away from your gaze, from your intuitive knowing, and that’s when you noticed the change in his eyes, the soft brown eyes began to enflame into a menacing red. A trick of the light you thought, an odd glare. As he turned back toward you, smirking, the red grew fiercer, more brilliant, you could see the fires of hell within them. You had so wanted it to be Evan, but it wasn’t. Whoever, whatever this doppelgänger was, he - it, was not Evan. Your heartbeat quickened and you felt as if you couldn’t breathe.  You started to back up towards the family room where everyone was gathered. You started to call for help, but he held up his hand in a gesture to stop you and you found you couldn’t utter a sound nor move a muscle, you were completely paralyzed. You wondered what was next? Was he going to kill you? He only stood silent, glaring at you with his flaming eyes. Then, to your amazement, he turned around and exited the way he came, without a word.

After he had disappeared into the darkness, you were released from whatever paralyzing spell he had placed on you. Your ratchety legs were giving out from beneath you, so you grabbed a wooden chair and sat down at the kitchen table. You lowered your head into your hands, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Moments later, screams and shouts erupted from the family room. What now? You jumped up and burst through the swinging door and into the crowd that had gathered around him. Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open. It was the imposter! His red eyes glowed defiantly as he stared at you from across the room.  Everyone greeted him as if her were Evan, just as you had. They were all so happy and completely fooled by him. You ran to your mother who had just embraced him, pulling her from his grasp.

“Mom, Mom” you cried out, “he is NOT Evan.”

Her eyes narrowed in disbelief, before taking your arms in her hands and turning you towards him.

“Why of course it is dear, don’t you see, It’s Evan, it’s your brother, Evan. He’s here, he’s right here. It’s all been a horrible mistake.”

“No,” you shook your head violently, while your mother and everyone else in the room stared at you with wide, unblinking eyes.

Red eyes leaned down and embraced you. Your body stiffened and you felt nauseous. As he let you go, you stared into those glowing red eyes.

“See, see his eyes” You exclaimed turning to family and friends; Aunt June, Uncle Fred, your best friend Kate. They looked at him, at those eyes, and then back at you.

“You can’t see them” you shouted hysterically. “They’re red, his eyes are red!”

Kate made her way over to you and placed her arm around you. She spoke to you in a soothing tone.

“Why don’t we go upstairs, Jenna. It’s been a long day and you must be tired, I’m sure you’ll feel better after you rest awhile.”

“Rest awhile? What the hell are you talking about, rest? You shouted, pulling away from her.

“Jenna, your mother rushed over. Don’t make a scene,” she said sternly in a low whisper. “Why you know, your brother Evan has always had red eyes.”

It was your turn to stare, you gaped at your Mother, Kate and over the entire room of meandering voices and nodding heads. What had happened to them? Did they all believe that Evan had always had red eyes? Nobody has glowing red eyes, not Evan, not anyone. His eyes were brown, Evan’s eyes were brown, a soft puppy dog brown, that melted every girl’s heart he had ever known. What’s wrong with them? Could he have Hypnotized them like he had paralyzed you in the kitchen.  Could he be capable of some sort of mind control?

Maybe, he could fool them into thinking that Evan had always had red eyes. But you had proof that Evan had brown eyes. You had pictures of Evan on your phone, you pulled it out of your back pocket and opened the photo app. You swiped though your selfies, and pet pics, but something was wrong. There were no pictures of Evan. That red eyed demon must have deleted them when you were in the kitchen. Yes, that must have been the reason why he came to you first? To see if he could fool you and when he couldn’t he deleted the proof you needed to convince anyone else. But, wait that didn’t make sense. There were pictures of Evan all over the house. So, maybe he didn’t know that, maybe he hadn’t planned on that. You pushed through the pitied looks of the crowd of gawkers and grabbed Evan’s graduation picture from the side table.

“Always, had red eyes, huh? Here, here... look and see for yourselves,” you shouted, holding up the picture to face the group. They looked at the picture, then at you, with their pity faced expressions fixed like portraits. You looked back incredulously and then turned the picture to face you. Dressed in cap and gown, smiled the red eyed facsimile of Evan. It was a trick, it must be some sort of trick, a mass hallucination. You looked at every picture of Evan in the room and everyone had been replaced with the red eyed devil.

Your family and friends listened intently as he told them his story. His voice sounded exactly like Evan’s as he explained how he hadn’t gone to work the day of the fire. It was by pure coincidence he had decided to take the day off and hike in the mountains. He had lost cell phone service and had no way of knowing about the fire until his return, just today. It was a clever lie, you would give him that. Everyone knew that Evan often took off on his own for a hike. Yes, it was a believable story, but you knew it was a lie and you also knew he had to be punished. All liars shall have their part in a lake of fire.

Your nausea grew worse and sweat made your t-shirt clingy and bothersome. You needed to convince them, convince them all, that this was not Evan. But the only thing you had convinced them of so far was that you had lost touch with reality, again. No one spoke of it openly, they dared not even mention the word breakdown around you. You stood in the far corner of the room with your arms wrapped around you. It was comforting, much like the straight jacket you had worn. The straight jacket was for your own good, you were told. It helped keep you safe. You had started to feel safe now, until your eyes met theirs. They looked at you now as they had looked at you then, the day that you killed Daddy. You hadn’t meant to kill him, it had been an accident. You hadn’t been thinking clearly. Daddy had accused you of lying, but you hadn’t lied and that, you thought, made Daddy the liar. And all liars shall have their part in a lake of fire.

You were not lying then, and you were not lying now. It was the doppelgänger who lied. You just needed proof.

You stood for quite some time there in the corner, thinking. But you kept your eyes on him. You watched his every move. Who did he think he was to come into your house, parading around and pretending to be your dead brother? Your head ached as you tried to think of a way to reveal him for who or what he really was, which you were now certain that he was a demon straight from hell. But for what purpose? What ungodly purpose had he come here? Had he come for you? Had he taken your brother by mistake? Did he know? Did he know it should have been you and not Evan?

You watched him walk through the swinging door and into the kitchen. What was he doing? Why was he here? It was only you that knew him for what he truly was, this evil, wicked, lying demon. All liars shall have their part in a lake of fire. The fire? All liars shall have their part in a lake of fire.  Of course, red eyes must have set the fire, the fire that killed your brother, the fire that killed your father.

An eye for an eye and a fire for a fire. Your thoughts raced on... Of course, it was he, it was he all along, the demon. You had not killed Daddy, he only made you think you had. You had not gone crazy, he only made you think you had.  It was the demon, he had done it all and it was time for him to pay.

You pushed the swinging door that led into the kitchen ever so slightly and then boldly leapt into the room. His red eyes fixed directly on you as you entered. He began calmly scolding you... “Jenna, Jenna, Jenna, you’ve been bad again... You’ve been lying,”. You shook your head, no. Your eyes widened as you saw what he was doing. He was igniting all four gas burners, one by one. You started toward the stove. His red eyes glowed fiercely, alive in the reflection of the flames.  He held his hand up and paralyzed you once again.

“Isn’t it glorious, Isn’t it beautiful. It’s alive! He sang out, as he spread the fire to the left and right of the kitchen, with hand movements of an orchestra conductor. A surreal symphony of fire.

You could hear the panic in the great room as smoke seeped under the adjoining door. You could hear your Mother’s voice calling for you, but you couldn’t move. All liars shall have their part in a lake of fire.

“Tell the truth, now Jenna and you might be saved,” he mocked. “It was you, it was all you. You killed your father and you killed your brother. You killed them both. You set them on fire, and you watched them burn! Now, isn’t that right? Isn’t it? We’re the same Jenna, don’t you see, I’m you and you’re me. You watched in horror as he transformed from Evan into a duplicate of you. Her voice now your voice.

“Your Daddy was right, Jenna. All liars will have their part in a lake of fire. All liars, Jenna.”

Your voice faded as the flames engulfed you, the sickening smell of burning hair and skin. You writhed and shrieked in pain, until your screams faded, and you were past the pain.

The soft white light comforted you. You breathed a sigh of relief as you crouched down in the corner of the white, padded room. You were safe, now. The straight jacket was for your own safety, they told you. You should rest now. But, you couldn’t. The memories wouldn’t let you. They were memories, not dreams, not hallucinations! You weren’t crazy, there had been a fire, it was the a fire that killed Ethan, you recalled...

The investigator had estimated that the fire’s temperature reached upwards of 3000 degrees Fahrenheit. It was odd, how you remembered that detail.

I love stories that just completely flip the reader's perspective. Which this absolutely did. As I was reading it I was like "Ok so this must be a paranormal type story with a doppleganger/changeling being." Then when I read "the day that you killed daddy" my perspective completely shifted into "oooh she's crazy." Using second person as the reader's perspective really enhanced this. It made it more personal and had more of an impact.

The ending left me a little confused. It could just be that I didn't read into it enough. But was she actually in the fire that she started? Or did she just set the fire and killed her father and brother? Vague endings are good though, don't get me wrong. But maybe just a little something more that would nudge the reader in the right direction? Unless we were just not meant to know exactly what happened.

Other than that, I really enjoyed this story, but then I love reading about crazy people. I really do think you nailed writing as a crazy person as she just seems so normal in the beginning as that's how they see themselves, and they usually see everyone else as crazy, as you showed during the funeral when she saw everyone acting insane believing red eyed Evan was the real Evan.
Really amazing job Gina.  



And here are some spelling/grammar errors I came across:

"Had you grief made you crazy?" The first you should be your.

" He only stood their silent," Their should be there.

'“Rest awhile? What the hell are you talking about? You shouted, pulling away from her.' There should be an ending " after "about?"

'“Jenna, your mother rushed over. Don’t make a scene, she said sternly in a low whisper.' Quotation marks should be fixed here as well.

" I’m you and your me." Your should be you're.

I finally made the edits and tried to clear up the ending.. let me know what you think! Thanks so much for your feedback, Miranda!