Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall
Written by Fetch Harvin
Whenever I was starring at the mirror, I only found myself starring back at me.
There was nothing suspicious about it, of course. The mirror did what was its purpose: Reflecting my image.
A simple, silver mirror with wonderfully soft rolling ornaments. Inconsiderable, pleached flowers, leaves and tendrils curled up to the top of the mirror. Seemingly ordinary, but beautiful indeed. Yet there was something eerie to it.
So now, I was standing there like an immovable statue obligated to remain in its stiff position, standing in front of this impressive mirror, only to see my pale, insentient face.
Everything else in the room was as silent as I was. It seemed like time had stopped working. As if the clock just ran out of power to move its hands. The whole scenery must have looked like a snapshot of this one moment.
The room was already worn out. The furniture was covered in thick, heavy white cloths. Although one must say they weren't white anymore. Dust and dirt had found their way to destroy the colour of innocence. With the blue shadows coming from the small, square window, the furniture reminded me of ghosts which were all directed to the mirror. Only the thought of it let me feel a chill run down my spine. I felt like thousands of eyes were piercing through my body, glancing over my shoulder, starring with me into the milky glass of the mirror. A strange feeling of pressure slowly settled down and the glass appeared to be darker now.
Suddenly I felt pure dread filling up my whole interior and I stepped back, looking at the furniture. When I reassured myself that nobody else was with me, I sighed and took a look at the parquet floor. It was fully covered in dust, as to be expected. Only my footsteps could be seen, creating a narrow path between the forest of ghosts. Nobody had been here for a long time. Instead for me. With every step on the floor, there was a moaning sound coming from the depths underneath. My paranoia might have been the cause of me hearing something that sounded like deep, hollowing screams.
I shivered. I was standing in the middle of the room with the intention to leave but I could not move anymore. My mind started slipping away. Now I began to understand why people always avoided this cursed room. When you were standing in front of the door, there was this feeling of a strong, willing desire dragging you into the room with its bare hands followed by the consciousness that there was something sinister lurking in the dark corners. But curiosity always took over rationality and fascination always took over fear.
Still incapable of moving, a ghastly laughter ripped me out of my thoughts. I knew it was coming from inside the mirror.
'They have told you not to go inside.'
Another laughter, almost sneeringly, but this time it was directly behind me. I could feel the hot, foul breath on my neck of whatever it was that stood behind me. The laughter alone did not make my hackles raise. It was the fact that it was my own voice laughing at me. Yet it was a distorted, beastly version of it.
My body grew hotter and strained as I felt the bony, sharp fingers moving up my arms like the legs of a disgusting, toxic spider. It felt like my skin was going to burn down to my core. The pain became stronger and stronger as the fingers slowly went up my shoulders. As soon as the fingers reached my neck, I thought I was going to die. It gradually became impossible to endure this hellish agony .... - but then, the fingers and the aching sorrow were just gone. A moment of relief captured my heart and the strain dissolved completely. I was able to move again. Now it was all over. Now I could finally leave. With a touch of eternal happiness, I ran towards the door and my hand was already grabbing the handle.
I would never return to this room again.
'Right. You won't.'
A sudden force threw me back at the wall. The horrid feeling of dread and mortal fear quickly returned to my soul. I fell right down on the ground, feeling a strong ache in my back. The edges of my vision were blurred and I could only adumbrate what was laying before me. All I could recognize was that my head was perfectly adjusted towards the mirror.
For a moment, there was complete silence. No noise evolved. Nothing dared to make a sound. Not even I dared to try crawl to the door. I would not have been able to anyway. My destiny was already signed when my vision turned normal again.
The mirror filled my complete view. The glass of the mirror changed. It looked like someone let drops of black ink fall on the surface of a milky sea. Slowly, the glass turned pitch black. Every second felt like never-ending hours.
From the centre of the glass, deathly black waves emerged. Abruptly, the same hands with the bony fingers blasted out of the mirror, wandering to its bottom. As soon as they touched the parquet floor, the screaming and the moaning started again.
'Hell is near.' 'You're ours.' 'Agony awaits you.'
Skinny arms with shreds of rotten skin were followed by a head with black, long hair that covered the whole face of the demon. The rest of the body appeared to be as slim and decomposed as the other body parts. It was dressed in a crimson dress that already bleached out. A terrible, acidic smell spread across the room. I was unable to breath and to scream.
The creature moved in a seemingly painful manner. Its arms and legs seemed to be broken multiple times thus making it move stagnant and slow. The most terrible thing was that the neck seemed to be broken as well. The creature breathed stertorously, grunted and moaned endlessly.
The nightmarish pain began to torture me. It moved towards me and I had no choice but to watch. There even was no space left for any other feeling than pain and absolute dread. My body twisted and twitched uninterrupted.
Then the creature was right in front of me. The smell was so terribly strong, I could not bear it. But yet I could not look away.
Its head was coming closer. Then it lifted it a bit and started laughing in my mutated voice. The black hair moved aside and I eventually could see its face. It was more a skull than a face - giving me a perverted smile - with some shreds of skin left on it. What was left of the nose was already falling in. It had no eyes but black holes instead and I could feel they were piercing through mine.
This was the most frightening sight I ever had.
She laughed again.
'You're all mine now. Your soul will never feel the delightful life again.'
With these words, she put her hands around my head and dragged me into the mirror with a breeze of longing, slowly sinking into the depths of a black world where every sign of light would be dried out.
The footsteps on the floor disappeared and the room remained perfectly silent all again.
After all the mirror did what was its purpose: Reflecting my image.