As the clock struck midnight, Mark found himself alone in his dimly lit apartment, the silence of the night wrapping around him like a heavy blanket.
He had just returned home after an exhausting day at work, his mind clouded with thoughts of deadlines and meetings. Seeking a brief escape, he wandered into the bathroom to splash some water on his face. As he approached the mirror, he noticed a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. He paused, wiping his wet hands on a towel, and leaned closer.
The reflection stared back at him, ordinary and unremarkable—just Mark, looking tired and worn. But as he turned to leave, he felt a chill sweep through the room, and a pull of curiosity compelled him to look back once more. This time, the reflection wasn’t quite right. There was a shadow behind him, a dark figure that seemed to loom larger than life, its features obscured but undeniably menacing.
Heart racing, he spun around to confront whatever was there, but the room remained empty. Confused and a little frightened, he turned back to the mirror, and that’s when he noticed it—the figure was still there, staring directly at him, its mouth twisting into a grotesque smile.
“Who are you?”
Mark gasped, but the figure merely mirrored his shocked expression, as though mocking him. Panic surged through him as he reached for the light switch, but the bulb flickered and died, plunging him into darkness.
The air grew thick with an unnerving silence, and he could feel the figure inch closer, its presence suffocating. In a fit of desperation, Mark splashed water on his face again, hoping to shake off the creeping dread. But when he looked back at the mirror, the figure was gone. Relieved, he took a step back, only to feel a cold breath on his neck. He froze, heart hammering in his chest, and slowly turned to face the darkness behind him. The room was empty. Or so he thought. As he turned back to the mirror, he saw his own reflection, but it was twisted, eyes hollow and filled with a dark void.
The smile returned, stretching unnaturally across his face.
“You can’t escape me,”
it whispered, the voice echoing in his mind.
“You invited me in.”
The reflection lunged forward, and Mark stumbled back in horror, the glass shattering around him as he fell. But as he crashed to the floor, he realized it wasn’t just the mirror that had shattered; it was his grasp on reality. The figure from the mirror had seeped into his life, and as Mark looked up, trembling, he saw it standing beside him—no longer trapped behind the glass, but free to roam the shadows of his home. With a chilling laugh, the figure reached out, and Mark understood too late that some reflections are better left unexamined. The last thing he heard was the sound of shattered glass and a voice, echoing through the darkness:
“You’re mine now.”
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