The Multi-Dimensional Mirror

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Pillow soft, like the curls on a newborn babies head, they bounced from one end of the horizon to another. Just a hint of orange tinted their very tendrils, as darkness slowly gave birth to a new sunrise. The beauty of a new day would sprout from above, permeating every open crevice not obscured by clouds. The water below would become a canvas, and nature (the artist manipulating the elements) would turn the reflection into its very own assemblage piece. It is at that fairytale moment, that Dr. Stork would grace the anxious villagers with his presence. They would travel from near and far with many offerings, hoping to somehow gain his favor. He would collect the valuables he deemed worthy, preying upon those wishing to be blessed with parenthood.

Johnathan Anderson, alias name Matthew Stork, sits and stares pensively at his own reflection in the mirror. He brushes his fingers through his freshly gelled slicked back hair and admires himself at every angle. He is a tall slim man with long legs, an elongated neck, and a nose that rivals even Pinocchio's. His tailored suit, a gift from the local tailor desperate to have an heir, sits snuggly against his frail frame. He doesn't look a day over forty-five, yet he is really over two hundred years old in the current dimension. In his hand he holds a crumbled letter, absent mindedly tossing it from side to side.

He tosses that jumbled letter towards his growing pile atop his work desk. He picks up the letter directly in front of him and reads it for the third time, trying to decipher just who it might be blackmailing him. He started receiving the cryptic letters on his front porch around six months ago. There would be no senders name or return address on the envelopes. They simply addressed him by name. He initially brushed it off as a hoax, assuming the neighbors troubled kids from down the hall were trying to scare him. He became so detached from the threats, that he started leaving the letters unopened and scattered across his desk, tossed aside like yesterday's news. Not one to be easily shaken, he saw the letters as nothing more than words on a paper with no real substance behind them. He underestimated the danger he was in, up until his wife also started receiving the letters at her job. Within three day's time, his wife and his kid both ended up missing.

The letter reads:

Your time here is about to expire. You seem to be unable to do what needs to be done. We have given you clear instructions on how to get what it is that we want, yet somehow you still fail to obtain it. Are you not the expert, or maybe you need some further incentive to get the ball rolling. Since you------

A loud commotion from the back yard startles him, and he snatches his shot gun from a secret compartment hidden underneath his coffee table. He walks out of his front door, with the intent of creeping up on the trespassers. He stealthily creeps around his home and towards the back, scouting the area for any sign of movement. He spends many minutes perusing his land, but sees nothing amiss. He is so engrossed in his outdoor exploration that he fails to see an intruder prowling towards his front door. When he finally gives up on finding the source of the outside noise, he cautiously walks toward his front door, observing every inch of his property. He shakes himself, assuming that exhaustion is finally kicking in from his lack of sleep. He grabs his door knob but notices that his door is left slightly ajar. He raises his shot gun to eye level and barges into his home, just as a figure enters his mirror portal. He fires off numerous rounds, but the bullets barely graze the surface of the mirror. He looks at his grandfather clock which shows 12:05. Out of anger, he knocks every item off of his desk, frustrated that he didn't pay more attention to the time. Not only does someone know about the secret portal, but they have free reign to alter his life in his current realm for the next twenty-four hours; leaving the portal locked on his side of the mirror.