The Reflection

Maya had always been fascinated by antique shops, drawn to the forgotten
things that time had left behind. So when she wandered into the small, dimly
lit store on the edge of town, she felt a strange pull toward the dusty, half-
forgotten treasures hidden inside.

The shopkeeper, an old man with a hunched back and gray hair that looked
like cobwebs, barely noticed her as she walked past rows of tarnished
mirrors. Most of them were small, framed in ornate brass or wood, reflecting
only the dim light and the worn floorboards. But one mirror caught her
attention.

It was larger than the others, with a massive, intricate silver frame that
seemed to shimmer even in the low light. The mirror itself was cloudy,
streaked with dust and age, yet Maya felt drawn to it.

"That one’s not for sale," the shopkeeper rasped, his voice like gravel
scraping against stone.

Maya stepped back, startled. "Why not?"

The old man’s eyes flickered for a moment, and then he shrugged. "It's...
dangerous."

Maya laughed nervously. "Dangerous? It’s just a mirror."

But the shopkeeper’s expression hardened, his thin lips pressed into a tight
line. "It shows more than just your reflection," he warned. "It shows what’s
waiting for you."

Curiosity gnawed at her. She turned her gaze back to the mirror. Something
about it felt wrong, but also... alluring. She could almost hear a whisper
beneath the hum of the overhead lights.

Ignoring the shopkeeper’s warning, Maya reached out and wiped a finger
across the dusty surface. The mirror’s surface darkened briefly, as if it were
pulling something from the air around it. When the dust settled, the
reflection was different. The room behind her looked unchanged, but she was
not alone.

In the reflection, a shadowy figure stood just behind her. It was tall, its
features obscured by the distorted glass, but there was no doubt it was
looking at her.
Her breath hitched in her throat as she spun around. The shop was empty. No
one stood behind her. She turned back to the mirror, her heart pounding.

The figure was still there, closer now. It was smiling.

The shopkeeper’s voice interrupted her frozen stare. "I told you," he
murmured. "It shows more than just your reflection."

Before Maya could respond, the air around her grew colder, and the lights
flickered. The reflection of the figure was now grinning widely, its eyes dark
pits, hollow and endless. The smile stretched unnaturally wide, until its face
seemed to be cracking, like porcelain. The figure raised one hand, fingers
long and unnaturally thin, reaching toward her.

Panicking, Maya stumbled back, knocking over a nearby chair. She looked
around, but the shop was still silent, still empty. When she turned back to the
mirror, the figure’s hand was now emerging from the glass. It was reaching
for her, its fingers stretching, distorting, pulling the edges of the mirror
inward.

She screamed, backing away, but the figure continued to grow, its form
spilling out like liquid, its fingers nearly touching her.

Then, suddenly, the reflection shifted again. The figure was no longer
reaching for her. It was inside the mirror, standing where she had been only
moments before.

Her heart slammed against her ribcage as she realized what was happening.
The figure wasn't just trapped in the mirror—it was waiting for her to take its
place.

She turned and bolted for the door, but the shopkeeper’s voice stopped her
cold.

“You can’t escape it,” he said softly. “It’s already chosen you.”

Maya looked back to the mirror one last time. The figure’s face was now
inches away from the glass. It was grinning—its jaw unhinged, too wide, like
it was about to consume her.

With a final scream, Maya dashed out of the shop, the door slamming behind
her. But as she ran into the night, she felt an unnatural coldness creeping
along her skin. The whispering voice from the mirror still echoed in her ears,
faint but growing louder.

It followed her.
And as she glanced nervously into the nearest storefront window, she saw it
—her own reflection, standing still as she hurried away, but something else
was there, too. A tall shadow, grinning. It was standing behind her, in her
reflection.

The mirror had chosen her.

And now, there was nowhere left to run.