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We reluctantly approached each other. He was no more than a corpse, built up from head to toe by death's hand. His catlike eyes met mine, and I reflexively shifted my gaze.
Repulsive.
He raised the thin, white shirt he wore to reveal a row of prominent ribs. The garb was removed, and I could see how his bones jutted out from his tightly stretched skin, much like an object hidden underneath thin, yellowed sheets. Tall and gaunt. Just like a skeleton.
Repulsive.
Our eyes met again, but this was no quick glance. It was a stare. His eyes were sunken deeply into his head, resembling the sockets of a skull. The gold of them would go unnoticed if not for the unnerving glow they emitted.
Repulsive.
My eyes traveled to the grotesque hole where a nose should have been. Then to his thin, lipless, dead mouth. Slowly, he raised one of his cold, bony hands to run spidery fingers through the few wisps of inky black hair he had.
Repulsive.
"Erik," I murmured spitefully. The name left a sour taste upon my tongue. I despised it.
Repulsive.
Akin to my hate for the man in the mirror.