The Haunted Mirror

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. At first, it was subtle. A flicker of movement in the corner of my eye, a shadow that darted out of view as soon as I turned my head. But soon, the changes became more pronounced. My reflection would smile when I didn't, or frown when I was feeling content. It was as though the mirror was showing me a version of myself that existed in some other world.

At first, I thought I was just imagining things. I had always been a bit superstitious, and the old mirror that hung in my bedroom had always given me the creeps. But as the days went on, the changes in my reflection became more and more pronounced. It was like the mirror was becoming a window into some alternate reality, one where everything was just slightly different.

The first time I realized something was really wrong was when I saw a figure standing behind me in the mirror. I spun around, but there was no one there. When I turned back to the mirror, the figure was gone too. But I could feel its presence, like a cold breath on the back of my neck.

After that, things got worse. The mirror began to show me scenes from this other reality - a world where everything was just slightly off. I saw myself, but with a different name, a different life. In that world, I was married to a woman I had never met, living in a house I had never seen before.

At first, I tried to ignore it. But the more I looked into the mirror, the more I felt like I was being pulled into that other world. The people in the mirror seemed to be calling out to me, begging me to come and join them.

And then, one night, it happened. I was standing in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection, when I felt a strange sensation. It was like my body was being stretched, pulled in a hundred different directions at once. And then, suddenly, I was no longer in my bedroom. I was in that other world, the world I had seen in the mirror.

At first, I was disoriented. Everything was just as I had seen it, but it was also completely different. The colors were brighter, the sounds were louder, and the air was thick with the smell of something I couldn't quite identify. But then, I saw her. The woman from the mirror, my wife in this other world. She was standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me with a mixture of fear and confusion. For a moment, I just stood there, staring at her. I wanted to reach out and touch her, to see if she was real. But then, a voice in the back of my head whispered that I needed to get back to my own world.

I turned to run back up the stairs, but as I did, I felt something grab my ankle. I looked down and saw a hand reaching out from beneath the staircase. It was gnarled and twisted, the skin stretched tight over the bones. I screamed and tried to pull away, but the hand held tight. And then, I saw another figure emerge from the shadows. It was a man, but he was like no man I had ever seen before. His skin was a sickly green color, and his eyes glowed like hot coals.He started towards me, his arms outstretched, and I realized with a sinking feeling that I was trapped. There was no way out.

And then, suddenly, I was back in my own world. I stumbled backwards, my heart pounding in my chest. I looked around, half-expecting to see that other world bleeding through into my own.But everything was as it should be. My bedroom was just as I had left it, with the haunted mirror hanging on the wall, its surface reflecting back at me.

I stumbled over to the mirror, my hands shaking as I reached out to touch the cool glass. It was just a mirror, I told myself. It couldn't be anything more than that. But I knew deep down that something was wrong. The mirror had shown me a glimpse of another world, one that was twisted and dark. And now, I couldn't shake the feeling that something from that world was trying to break through into my own.

Over the next few days, I tried to avoid the mirror as much as possible. I kept the curtains drawn, trying to block out the light that seemed to seep in through the glass. But no matter what I did, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching me from the other side.

And then, one night, I woke up to find that the mirror had fallen off the wall. It lay shattered on the floor, its fragments reflecting back at me in the moonlight.

I felt a chill run down my spine as I realized what this meant. The mirror had been a portal, a gateway to that other world. And now, with it broken, there was nothing standing in the way of whatever had been trying to break through.

I tried to leave my apartment, but the door wouldn't budge. It was like something was holding it shut from the other side. I was trapped, with no way out. And then, I heard it. A faint scratching sound, coming from the other side of the room. I turned around, my heart pounding in my chest, and saw that the mirror was reforming itself. The shards were shifting and moving, like they were alive. I wanted to run, to scream, to do anything to get away. But I was frozen, rooted to the spot as I watched in horror as the mirror took shape once again.

And then, with a sound like cracking ice, it was whole again. The surface shimmered, and I saw that other world reflected back at me once more. But this time, it was different. The colors were more vibrant, the sounds more real. I could hear screams coming from that other world, and I knew that I had to do something. I reached out towards the mirror, and my hand went through the glass as though it was nothing more than mist. I stepped through, feeling the cold embrace of that other world wrap around me like a blanket.

And then, I was there. In that twisted world, where everything was just slightly off. I could feel something moving towards me, something dark and malevolent. But I knew that I couldn't run. I had to face it head on. With a scream, I lunged forward, my hands reaching out towards the darkness. And then, suddenly, I was back in my own world, gasping for breath. The mirror was gone, its surface nothing more than a blank expanse of glass. But I knew that it was still out there, somewhere, waiting for its next victim.

I never saw the haunted mirror again, but sometimes, late at night, when the moon is high in the sky and the wind is howling outside, I can feel its presence. And I know that one day, it will find another way to break through into our world. And when it does, I pray that someone will be there to stop it.