The Broken Mirror

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The image staring back at me was not the familiar face I had known all my life. It was someone else. Someone who looked eerily similar to me, but at the same time, completely different.

I couldn't look away. The longer I stared, the more I noticed the subtle differences. The shape of the eyes, the curve of the lips, the texture of the skin. It was like looking at a stranger wearing my skin as a disguise.

I reached out to touch the surface of the mirror, but my hand went through it as if it wasn't there. My heart pounded in my chest as I stumbled back, tripping over a pile of clothes on the floor.

When I got back up, I saw that the reflection had changed. Now, instead of a person, I saw a dark, empty void. It was like looking into a black hole that sucked in all the light around it.

I couldn't tear my gaze away. It was like something was holding me there, like a hypnotic trance. And then, something started to happen.

The void began to expand, spreading like a thick, dark liquid across the surface of the mirror. I tried to back away, but my feet wouldn't move. It was like I was rooted to the spot, trapped by some invisible force.

As the darkness grew, I saw shapes start to form within it. At first, they were blurry, indistinct. But as the darkness receded, they became clearer.

I saw a world that wasn't my own. It was like looking into an alternate reality, a twisted version of my own world. The sky was blood red, the trees were blackened and dead, and the air was thick with a foul-smelling mist.

But it wasn't just the landscape that was different. The people were too. I saw familiar faces, people I knew, but they were changed. They had become twisted, distorted versions of themselves. Their eyes glowed with a sickly yellow light, and their skin was the color of ash.

It was then that I realized that the mirror was not just a mirror. It was a window, a portal to another world. And that world was bleeding into mine.

I tried to step back, but my feet were still rooted to the spot. I was trapped, helpless to do anything but watch as the darkness spread. It was like a cancer, devouring everything in its path.

The mirror had become a doorway, and something was coming through. I could feel it, a malevolent presence that oozed through the crack between worlds. It was a darkness that had no name, no form, but it was there, and it was hungry.

I felt a cold, clammy hand wrap around my ankle, and I screamed. It was like a shock that broke the trance, and I pulled my leg free, stumbling backward and tripping over the pile of clothes again.

When I got back up, I saw that the mirror was normal again. It was just a mirror, reflecting my own face back at me. But I knew that it was just a matter of time before it happened again.

Over the next few days, I tried to avoid the mirror, but it was like a magnet, pulling me toward it. I couldn't resist the temptation to look, to see what was on the other side.

Each time I looked, the world beyond the mirror was a little bit closer. The darkness had spread, engulfing more and more of the landscape. The people had become more twisted, more inhuman.

And then, one day, I saw something that made my blood run cold. I saw myself, or at least, a version of