The Dark Reflection

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own.

But that’s jumping ahead, so let me rewind and start the tale from the beginning.

The attic was a dusty, forgotten place in the old house, but Peter had always been drawn to it. So he had decided to take some time off work and clear it out.

There was something mysterious and intriguing about the space, with its old trunks, rusted tools, and forgotten treasures. So, when he stumbled across the antique mirror hidden behind a pile of old blankets, he felt a sense of excitement and curiosity.

The mirror was tall and ornate, with a heavy wooden frame that was carved with intricate patterns and designs. It looked like it had been around for centuries, and Peter wondered about its history and origins. He carefully lifted the mirror out of its hiding place, leaned it against some old crates, and dusted it off. Feeling pleased with his handiwork, he carried it down the creaky stairs to their bedroom.

“What do you want with that old thing?”, his wife Rebecca asked when she saw it.

“I found it in the attic.”, Peter replied, “I wonder if it’s some kind of antique. Maybe it’s worth something. Don’t you like it?”.

“I guess it’s quite an unusual piece.”, she replied trying to humour him.

“Look, I’ve got to dash to collect dad from the hospital. I’ll call you when we’re all sorted out. Love you.”, she continued as she rushed out of the door.

“Take care! Love you! Wish your dad a speedy recovery from me. See you soon.”, Peter replied.

Her dad had been recovering from a stroke and, after months of rehabilitation, she was going to collect him from the hospital, take him home, and stay with him for a few weeks until he was back to full health and able to look after himself again.

Peter set the mirror up against the bedroom wall and immediately fell in love with how it looked. He stared at the reflection in the glass, noticing how clear and sharp the image was.

He had been so caught up with the mirror that he had lost track of time, and then suddenly remembered that he had to get to the mall to pick up something for his dinner. With one final glance at the mirror, he rushed out of the door and headed to the mall.

It was a busy neighborhood and he had to cross a wide, congested road to get to the mall. Large semis, pickup trucks, and cars thundered past him as he tried to cross the road, amidst the deafening roar of the traffic. Suddenly, there was a screech of brakes and Peter leaped backward.

“Phew, that was a close call!”, he said to himself as a large semi stopped no more than 2 inches from him. “Someone must be looking out for me.”, he thought, looking skyward.

By the time he had returned home, Peter had forgotten about the incident, and about his dinner.

All he could think of was the mirror.

But, as he stared at his reflection, this time it seemed slightly different than before. His eyes were sunken and hollow, and his skin was a little paler. It was as if he were looking at an alternate version of himself.

“The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own.”, he muttered to himself. “No, no that’s impossible.”, he continued trying to put it out of his mind.

At first, Peter tried to ignore the differences, chalking it up to the lighting or the angle of the mirror. But then they started to become more pronounced. His eyes looked more and more sunken and hollow, and his skin was now almost translucent.

And then, the sounds began.

At first, it was just a faint whisper, like the rustle of leaves on a windy day. But as time went on, the whisper grew louder and sounded like voices, but what they were saying was indistinct. It was eerie and unsettling, and Peter began to feel a sense of dread whenever he looked at the mirror.

Despite the fear, however, Peter couldn't resist the pull of the mirror. It was like it was calling to him, drawing him closer and closer. As the days went on, the voices grew louder and his reflection became even more distorted and macabre.

One day, as Peter stared into the mirror, he began to recognise the sounds. It sounded like a hospital, with the distinct beeping of a heart rate monitor and the bustle of doctors and nurses rushing around. Peter felt a strange sense of familiarity as if he had been there before, in that hospital room.

But what did this all mean?

Peter sensed that he had to do something, but he didn't know where to start. His mind was clouded, and he felt like he was losing his grip on reality. He was worn out by it all and decided that he needed rest to help clear his mind.

As he sat on the bed, he suddenly remembered the food that he had gone to the mall for. He stopped to think but didn’t remember being at the mall at all. What’s more, he no longer felt hungry. He laid down and drifted off.

The next day, he spent most of his time in bed, trying to sleep, but the voices wouldn't let him. They were calling out to him, whispering things he couldn't understand. He tried to ignore them, but they were getting more and more persistent.

The day after that was worse. He woke up to find the mirror had moved nearer to his bed. He didn't remember moving it, but he couldn't be sure. Maybe he had moved it while sleepwalking.

The reflection in the mirror was becoming clearer; it was a hospital ward, and Peter's own reflection was now a shocking site, looking like a decomposing corpse. He tried to avoid looking at it, but the urge to look was impossible to resist.

As he stared into the mirror, he blinked, and suddenly found himself standing in the hospital ward, watching himself lying in a bed surrounded by doctors and nurses. He could see himself hooked up to machines with wires and tubes, but he was pale and lifeless.

Peter was in shock and could barely believe what he was seeing. Was this some kind of premonition, or was he losing his mind? Looking around he searched for a way back to his bedroom, but he couldn't move. He covered his eyes with his hands and suddenly, he was back in his own reality, standing in front of the mirror, sweating and shaking. He decided to call Rebecca, hoping that she could help him.

When she answered the phone, she could hear the fear in his voice. He told her what had been happening and how it all seemed to be connected to the mirror.

“It’s okay Peter, stay calm. I’ll be back home as soon as I can get there. I can ask my sister to look after dad. Don’t worry, Love you!”, Rebecca said.

He hung up the phone, feeling relieved that Rebecca would soon be home.

Then, in a moment of madness, he grabbed a hammer. He was going to smash the mirror and put an end to all of this once and for all.

But when he got back to his bedroom, he couldn’t bring himself to go through with it. Somehow, it had become so important to him.

He sat on the bed, feeling exhausted and defeated, but heard a sound coming from the mirror. It was a soft whisper, almost like a plea. At first, he couldn't make out what it was saying, but then he realized that it was calling his name.

"Peter," the voice whispered. "Peter, look at me."

Peter knew he should ignore it, but he couldn't help himself. He stood up and walked over to the mirror, staring into his reflection.

"Peter, I have something to show you," the voice whispered again.

Peter hesitated for a moment, as he realised that the whispering voice was his own.

The image in the mirror now showed a hospital trolley with a body bag on it. At one end was a name tag with the name “Peter Haley” written on it.

Then he heard another sound. It was the sound of his wife's voice, calling out for him.

"Peter, where are you?" Rebecca's voice echoed.

He turned around and saw that she was standing in the doorway, looking around as if she couldn't see him. He turned to face her, but she still didn't see him.

"Rebecca, it's me. Peter," he said, but she continued to look around the room as if looking for him.

Peter felt a cold chill run down his spine as he watched her approach the mirror.

Just then her phone rang and she answered it with some urgency. It was the hospital.

“Can I speak to Rebecca Haley please?”, the voice said.

“Yes, speaking”, she answered nervously, ”What’s happened?”, by now her voice shaking.

“Your husband, Peter has been involved in a road traffic accident. I’m afraid he was hit by a large semi while crossing the road near Hermosa Mall. I’m sorry to inform you, but I’m afraid he didn’t make it”.

Rebecca let out a bloodcurdling scream as she stood in front of the mirror, staring at her own reflection and watching as a crack slowly appeared in it, running from top to bottom.

As Peter took one last look at the mirror, it began to glow with a blinding light. He reached out his hand and touched the mirror one last time and, in an instant, was gone.