Japanese Tales of Mystery & Imagination - Edogawa Rampo [42]
So strange and terrifying must have been this reflection, of whatever shape it was, as it filled Tanuma's complete range of vision, that it would have made any mortal insane.
The only thing we know is the reflection cast by a concave mirror, which is only one section of a spherical whole. It is a monstrously huge magnification. But who could possibly imagine what the result would be when one is wrapped up in a complete succession of concave mirrors?
My hapless friend, undoubtedly, had tried to explore the regions of the unknown, violating sacred taboos, thereby incurring the wrath of the gods. By trying to pry open the secret portals of forbidden knowledge with his weird mania of optics he had destroyed himself.
TWINS
[A CONDEMNED CRIMINAL'S
CONFESSION TO A PRIEST]
T ATHER, I'VE FINALLY MADE UP my mind to confess to you. My day of execution is drawing nearer; and I want to make a clean breast of all my sins, for I feel that this is the only way I can obtain a few days of peace before I die. So I beg you to spare me some of your valuable time to hear the story of my wicked life.
As you know, I've been sentenced to death for the crime of killing a man and stealing two million yen from his safe. I did in fact commit that crime, but no one suspects me of anything more than that. So, now that I am destined to face my Maker, there is no reason on earth why I should confess to another crime far more diabolical. But my heart is set on confessing all while there is yet time; after I have paid the supreme penalty, my lips will be sealed forever.
After you've heard my confession, Father, I beseech you to tell my wife everything, for it is only right that she should know too. The greatest of blackguards often turn out to be good men when death is near at hand. I think my wife would hate me forever if I were to die without confessing to the other crime as well. And there's yet one more reason. I've always had a livid fear of the vengeance of the man I murdered! No, I don't mean the one I killed when I stole the money. That case is already closed, for I have already confessed my guilt. The fact is, I committed another murder before that. And whenever I think of my first victim I almost go mad with terror.
The first man I sent to his grave was my elder brother— but he was no ordinary brother. We were twins, born from our mothers womb almost simultaneously.
Although he has long been dead, he haunts me day and night. In my dreams he treads on my chest with the weight of a thousand pounds; and then he clutches me by the throat and chokes me. In the daytime he appears on the wall there and stares at me with ghastly eyes, or shows his face in that window and laughs at me grimly. And the fact that we were twins, identical to each other in looks, in the shapes of our bodies, in everything, made things all the worse. No sooner had I killed him than he began to appear before me every time I looked at myself. When I think about the past it seems to me that it was my brothers desire for revenge that made me commit the second murder, which led to my ultimate undoing.
From the moment I cut off my twin's life, I began to fear all mirrors. In fact, not only mirrors, but everything that reflected. I removed every mirror and all the glassware in my house. But what was the use? All the shops on the streets had show windows, and behind them, more mirrors glittered. The more I tried not to look at them, the more my eyes were attracted to them. And, wherever I gazed, his face—his mad, leering face—stared back at me, full of vengeance; it was, of course, my own face.
Once in front of a mirror-shop I almost fainted, for there I was set upon not just by one face of the man I had killed, but by thousands