Eli sat at the counter, his back hunched, eyes empty. The shop was still, except for the hum of the shop’s fluorescent lights overhead.

Another hour to go. Another flat day wrapped in a cloak of silence. The cold air stung him, but he did not really feel it.

His fingers shivered, tracing circles over the counter. A voice in his head whispered, Listen, you don’t belong here. You’re wasting your life.” Eli fisted his hands to try and push the thought away, but it would not leave him.

He looked at the clock. 7: 58 p.m.

two minutes until closing. The bell over the door jingled, and pulled him out of his reverie. Eli’s eyes flicked to the door.

Miss Thompson appeared, face with its usual smile. She was an older woman, having dark red hair, in an old cardigan, with a basket of herbal teas. “Evening, Eli!” she called from the back aisle, her voice almost too cheerful.

“Getting ready to close?” “Yeah,” Eli said flatly, his gaze shifted toward the door. He didn’t care. “Another hour or so. “Miss Thompson trailed the aisles at a very slow, almost academic pace. Something is off, Eli couldn’t get off his mind.

He did not like the way she kept glancing over at him, studying him, calculating. At last She walked up to the counter and laid her tea basket down with a gentle sound of clinks. While ringing her purchases up, Eli smiled again, this time with a touch that was less convivial looking than at the beginning, though it was more calculating.

“You going to be alone tonight, Eli?” she asked, a peculiar, almost predatory inflection to the question.

Eli’s hand stopped halfway through the scan, his gaze turned into a stare as he lifted up his eyes towards her. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, amplifying the tension. “Why do you ask?” Eli replied, his voice flat but edged with suspicion.

Miss Thompson gently tossed, smoothing away the trajectory of a red tuft of hair from her face. “Oh, No reason darling. Just seems like you’re always here, all by yourself.

Must get lonely. “Eli didn’t answer. He put an end to ringing up her merchandise, bagged the stuff, and moved the bagged stuff over the counter. His fingers met hers only for a moment, and he felt that her hand was much colder than the outside arctic weather.

“you have a good night,” she said, her smile lingering a second too long .Eli didn’t respond, watching as she left. The bell jingled again, and the door swung shut, leaving the shop feeling emptier than before.

Locking the register, Eli came out from behind the counter. He walked towards the door, changed the sign to “Closed” and fixed it. With a start, he received a peculiar feeling- heaviness as if the air had became dense.

It felt like a shadow stretching across the room, just out of sight. He rubbed his temples, shaking off the unease.

Eli reached for the cleaning spray under the counter and started to wipe the surface. The rhythmic motion usually calmed him, but tonight, it only made him feel more exposed. Elias sprayed the counter, his hands trembling slightly as he scrubbed.

His mind kept wandering back to Miss Thompson, her too-cheerful smile, the icy touch of her hand, and the odd heaviness she seemed to leave behind. Then, the first flicker came. From the edge of his vision Elias caught sight of his image in the window of the shop.

At first glance, normal looking he was, his dull eyes, his unkempt black hair, but when he looked back, the image differed. His own face melted into something devious.

Glowing yellow eyes burned through the glass, and a shadowed cloak draped over his reflection’s shoulders. It wasn’t him, it couldn’t be .Elias tumbled back, the cleaning spray flew from his grasp and tinkled on the floor. “What... the hell?” he whispered, staring at the warped reflection .The figure took one step towards the glass from behind, but when Elias looked back, the aisle at the back was empty.”

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Lonely, pathetic man,” a low, guttural voice growled .Elias whirled back to the reflection, and now it was fully formed. The version of the same person reflected in the glass was not only misshapen- it was ghastly. A mask concealed its lower face, jagged as bone, and the cloak swirled and billowed like a living creature. “You are weak,” the creature spat, its voice dripping with disrespect. “They made a mistake choosing you.

You’re unworthy to be my vessel. “”What are you talking about?” Elias yelled, his voice cracking. “Isiah Mercer,” the creature hissed. The name hit Elias like a punch to the gut, though he’d never head it before. “Who the hell is Isiah Mercer?” The figure didn’t answer. It allowed a creepy laugh to flow out, then just fade away in a squirt of darkness. Eli stumbled back, gripping the counter for support.

His breath came in shallow gasps. He hoped it was the end, however, then again, another voice- soft this time- was heard. “It’s true,” the new voice said.

Elias turned around, this time the monstrous version was no there only, except, himself. This was cleaner. Calmer. The man standing before him was taller, with steady eyes and a determined expression. He wore no mask, no cloak, just Elias as he might have been in another life.“Who, what is this?” Elias asked, his voice trembling.

The figure stepped closer, his movements deliberate and confident. “You need to know the truth. “Isiah Mercer is real. He was a murderer, one of the most notorious killer of all time. Bloodlust got hold of him, and he killed millions in a few months. But his hunger for immortality destroyed him.” “What does that have to do with me?” Elias demanded. The figure’s gaze hardened. “Everything.” When Mercer die, he wasn’t reincarnated like he planned.

Something went wrong. You were born at the same moment and the same time and he exploited you, he made you his container. He killed himself to manifest within you.” “That’s insane!” Elias shouted, his head pounding.

“Why would he regret it then? “The figure’s eyes darkened. “because you weren’t what he expected. He wanted to dominate you, but your will is stronger than he realized. Now he’s trapped, fighting for control. “Elias shook his head violently, backing away.” No. No!” This is crazy. This isn’t real.” “It is,” the figure said gravely.”

And if you don’t cut it off, that different you, the traitor, is your destiny. “You’ll become him. “The words echoed in Elia’s head. He knelt, and fell on the ground, grasping his skull. The name Isiah Mercer screamed in his mind, louder and louder. “Shut up!” Elias screamed, clawing at his temples. “Shut up, shut up! “The world tilted, his vision blurring, and darkness overtook him. When Elias woke, the TV in the store was on with the news.

A sharp voice cut through the haze: Tonight, law enforcement have detected indications of the “111 Killer. Evidence points to Elias Hale as the suspect. Patrolling is taking place, and police are on their way to his employment. Elias bolted upright. “What the.” His voice caught in his throat. The camera showed his house, his house is surrounded by flashing lights and police vehicles. “This can’t be happening,” he whispered.

A wave of panic swept over him and he fled down to the basement, his thoughts racing. He needed to hide, But when he reached the bottom of the stairs, he froze. The basement wasn’t how he remembered it.

The rows of monitors zoomed, showing maps, surveillance, schematics etc. Tables were made up of weapons, cloaks, piles of currency, and an object he did not recognize. “What is this?” Elias muttered, his hands trembling.

Before he could make sense of it, a searing pain shot through his body. He knelt and clutched at his chest as his skin smoked and vision became washed out. His eyes glowed yellow, and the image on the screen in one of the monitors grinned at him, Isiah Mercer has got control. “So,” he rumbled, “It begins.”

Isiah rose, grabbing a blood-red katana from the table and putting on a dark cloak. Footsteps echoed up the stairs and the front door throbbed with the blows of the police officers trying to force an entry. Mercer grinned under his mask, and pushed a chair toward the middle of the basement.

He sat waiting. As soon as the door ripped open, police rushed in with guns held high. “Freeze!” one of them, shouted. Mercer tilted his head, unfazed. They started to shoot, but the bullets came to a halt mid-air, floating for a second then hitting the floor. Mercer stood, stepping forward as the room darkened.

He snapped his fingers, and a shadowy clone materialized, morphing into a towering rock monster. The beast snarled, grabbing officers and flinging them to the floor like rag dolls. Mercer then leaped into the night sky.

When he fled into the night he landed on a roof and saw Elias’s house.

Inside a figure waited in the shadows, a slender, masked assassin holding two blades.

“111,” Mercer said, with a smile in the back of his mind.

The battle was far from over.