Echoes in the Mirror

Aryan always got this creepy feeling whenever he looked in a mirror, not because he was superstitious or anything. It was more like his reflection was staring back just a little too long, you know?

He wasn’t into ghosts or spirits or any of that stuff. But seriously, every time he caught his own reflection, something felt off. It was like the mirror knew something about him that he didn’t even get.

Growing up in a small town, life was pretty normal for Aryan. But when he moved to Mumbai for his freelance video editing gig, things just felt… different. The crazy busy streets, the packed markets, the bright lights – it was all just too much. The apartment he rented wasn’t much to look at, but it was his own space. Cheap, old, but it worked.

The landlord was a weird dude – super quiet, pale, and he never said anything about the apartment’s history. All he’d say was, "Someone left suddenly." Aryan didn’t push it. The apartment was in a perfect spot for his work, and that’s all that mattered to him.

But that mirror – man, that damn mirror was a problem from the second he walked in.

It was huge, like floor-to-ceiling, taking up most of one wall in the bedroom. And it wasn’t just any mirror – it was way too clear. It almost felt like it was alive, like it was a window to some world Aryan didn’t belong in.

The first night, Aryan threw a sheet over it. He hated how it just stared back at him, reflecting not just his face, but this strange emptiness that made him feel uneasy. He crashed with the sheet still there, thinking he’d forget all about it.

But every morning, the sheet was gone, just lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. He told himself it was the draft – just an old building thing. But the more it happened, the more it freaked him out.

Days went by. Little things started to change. He first noticed it one morning while brushing his teeth in front of the mirror. His reflection copied him, like it should. Right hand up to brush. Reflection did the same.

But then, this weird thing happened.

His reflection didn’t just mirror him. It blinked when he didn’t. It moved a split second slower, and then, for a second, it smiled – when Aryan definitely wasn’t. He quickly looked away, shaking his head, trying to tell himself it was just a trick of the light or him being tired.

But the next morning, it happened again. This time, he was sure of it. The reflection didn’t just smile. It winked at him.

He took a step back, his heart pounding. "What the hell?" he mumbled.

Aryan couldn’t handle it anymore. He grabbed his phone and started recording. Every night, he set up the camera, pointing it right at the mirror. He figured if he recorded it, he’d catch something – anything – that explained what was going on.

But every morning, when he checked the footage, there was nothing out of the ordinary. The video was totally normal – his reflection perfectly in sync with his movements, nothing weird at all.

That was until the seventh day.

He woke up to find his camera was off. The footage was gone. And in its place, there was this single video file that had appeared. The thumbnail was just black, except for this tiny blinking timestamp.

The video was only 17 seconds long. Aryan’s hands were shaking as he hit play.

In the video, Aryan was asleep, his face all calm and still. But his reflection… it wasn’t still. The reflection slowly stepped out of the frame, little by little. It moved on its own, not with his body, like it had its own mind.

And then, the reflection just disappeared completely.

Aryan’s heart skipped a beat. The hairs on his arms stood up. He rushed to the mirror. He had to see if the reflection was still there. But it was normal – his reflection did exactly what he did. No sign of that weird stuff from the video.

But deep down, something told him: That’s not you anymore.

The paranoia kicked in big time.

He started covering the mirror every night, hoping it would stop. But the next morning, it was always uncovered again. He tried everything – he even taped the edges, sealed it shut, but every time he came back to his apartment, the mirror was clear.

One day, after a really long night of editing, Aryan came home and found something totally chilling. The fog on the glass wasn’t just random moisture. Someone had clearly written on it:

“You shouldn’t have watched.”

He jumped back. His heart was racing. Who could have done that? He lived alone. There was no one else.

Aryan didn’t stick around. He packed his bags, got out of that apartment, and found a new place – far away from that creepy mirror. He thought it would all be over.

But it wasn’t.

Weeks went by. He tried to move on. But that feeling that something was wrong just wouldn’t go away. He avoided mirrors, never looking too long in the ones at his new place. Everything seemed normal again… or so he thought.

One night, scrolling through Instagram, Aryan stopped at a video. The thumbnail caught his eye. It was a short clip called: “Real or Fake? Man caught swapping places with mirror.”

He clicked on it.

The video looked like it was from a security camera – his old apartment. The same room. The same mirror. But the guy in the video wasn’t Aryan. He had Aryan’s face, his clothes, his features – but his expression was all wrong. It was twisted. The guy in the mirror smiled like he knew exactly who was watching.

Aryan froze. He didn’t understand.

But then, as his own phone camera turned on by itself, he looked at the front screen. In its reflection, behind him – was him.

Smiling.


He turned around quickly.

The room was empty.

But his reflection remained in the phone—grinning wider now, as if it had just caught its prey.

And then it raised a finger.

And waved.

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