The Mirror in the Attic

The old house on the hill had been abandoned for decades, its once-grand architecture now hidden beneath layers of ivy and decay. Emily and Mark had always dreamed of restoring a historic home, and when they found this one, the price was too good to pass up. Despite warnings from the locals about the house’s strange past, they moved in, ready to start their new life.

Their first few days were spent cleaning out the dusty rooms, discovering forgotten trinkets and antique furniture left behind by the previous owners. But it was the attic that drew Emily's curiosity the most. One evening, while Mark was fixing a leak in the kitchen, Emily decided to explore the old, creaking staircase that led up to the attic.

The air was thick with dust, and the only light came from a small window, barely illuminating the clutter of boxes, old furniture, and cobwebs. In the corner, covered by a dusty sheet, she noticed a tall, ornate mirror. Its frame was carved with strange, intricate designs that seemed to twist and curl as though alive. With a careful hand, Emily removed the sheet, revealing the mirror's full length.

As she stared at her reflection, something felt off. Her face looked normal, yet there was a flicker in her reflection’s eyes—a cold, dark glint that made her step back. A chill ran down her spine, but she brushed it off as nerves.

“Mark! You have to see this!” she called out.

Mark joined her a few moments later, and together they stood in front of the mirror. For a moment, all seemed fine, until their reflections began to move on their own, showing versions of themselves doing things they would never dare imagine.

Emily’s reflection stood still, but Mark’s began to change. In the mirror, he watched himself turn toward her, his eyes dark and sunken, a twisted grin spreading across his face. Mirror-Mark reached out, his fingers curling around Mirror-Emily’s throat, squeezing as her face turned pale.

Emily gasped and stumbled backward, her hand flying to her neck as though she could feel the pressure. “Did you see that?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Mark blinked and shook his head. “I didn’t see anything.” His brow furrowed in concern. “What’s wrong?”

Emily couldn’t explain it. The reflection had looked so real, but when she looked again, everything appeared normal. Her own reflection stared back at her, expressionless and calm. Mark stood behind her, his face the same as always. She let out a shaky breath, forcing a smile. “Maybe I’m just tired.”

But as the days passed, Emily couldn't shake the image from her mind. The more she and Mark passed by the mirror, the stranger their reflections became. Sometimes they saw themselves doing things they didn’t remember—laughing when they weren’t, crying when they weren’t. And other times, the scenes in the mirror became more violent, darker.

One night, Emily woke to a loud crash. She found Mark standing in front of the mirror in the attic, his hands pressed against the glass, staring into the reflection as though in a trance.

“Mark!” she called, but he didn’t respond. She rushed forward, grabbing his arm, pulling him away. He blinked rapidly, shaking his head as though waking from a bad dream.

“I... I don’t know how I got up here,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. “I don’t even remember leaving the bed.”

Something was terribly wrong with the mirror, but every time they tried to cover it, it somehow ended up uncovered again, as if it was drawing them back.

After that night, things only worsened. Emily and Mark tried everything to stop the strange occurrences. They covered the mirror with thick cloth, moved furniture in front of it, even tried taking it down, but it always ended up uncovered, hanging in its spot like a menacing shadow over their lives.

One evening, Emily was alone in the house. Mark had gone out to get groceries, leaving her in an uneasy silence. As she wandered upstairs, her eyes were drawn—against her will—toward the attic. The door was slightly ajar, a cold draft seeping out from the crack. She hesitated but couldn’t stop herself from pushing the door open.

Inside, the mirror stood, uncovered as always. But this time, there was something different. In the reflection, Emily saw not herself, but a twisted, gaunt version of her, standing with hollow eyes and a face pale as death. The mirror version reached out, touching the glass, as if trying to break through.

Suddenly, a voice whispered, soft yet chilling, “Come closer.”

Emily stepped back, her heart pounding. She turned to leave, but the attic door slammed shut behind her with a force that sent a gust of cold air through the room. Panicked, she ran to the door, twisting the knob, but it wouldn’t budge. She was trapped.

In the mirror, the twisted version of herself smiled—a wicked, knowing grin. Emily backed away, her breath coming in short gasps, when she saw the reflection of Mark appear behind her. Relief flooded through her.

“Mark!” she cried, turning around. But no one was there.

Her stomach twisted in fear as the mirror reflected something that wasn’t happening. In the glass, she saw herself walking toward Mark, a knife gleaming in her hand, her expression cold, detached. She watched in horror as the reflection-version of herself raised the blade and plunged it into Mark’s chest.

"No!" Emily screamed, spinning around.

Suddenly, she was no longer alone. The twisted version of herself had stepped out of the mirror, her movements slow and deliberate. Emily felt the cold presence approaching, but she was frozen in place, unable to move as her doppelgänger advanced.

The attic’s dim light flickered, casting eerie shadows that danced around her. Her reflection raised a hand, pale and thin, and Emily could feel the chill spreading through her own body, as though her reflection was draining the life from her.

At that moment, the door flew open. Mark stood there, panting, his eyes wide with panic. “Emily! Are you okay?”

The moment broke, and the doppelgänger faded back into the mirror, leaving Emily gasping for breath. She ran into Mark’s arms, shaking. “We need to leave this house. Now.”

They packed their bags, ready to flee the cursed house. But as they reached the front door, something invisible pulled them back. The house didn’t want them to leave. The mirror didn’t want them to leave.

Mark suggested smashing the mirror, ending the nightmare once and for all. Armed with a hammer, he charged up to the attic, determined to destroy the source of their torment.

But as he raised the hammer, the mirror showed him a vision—one so real and terrifying that he froze. In it, he saw himself smashing the mirror, only for the glass shards to turn into deadly projectiles, piercing his body until he bled out on the attic floor. The mirror was showing him his death.

“Mark, stop!” Emily cried, but it was too late. He brought the hammer down with a ferocious swing.

The mirror shattered into a thousand pieces. For a moment, everything was silent.

Then, the house trembled. The shards of glass began to move, swirling in the air like a tornado of broken reflections. Mark was thrown across the room, and Emily watched in horror as the twisted versions of themselves emerged from the shards, fully formed and grinning wickedly.

As the doppelgängers advanced, the room filled with cold whispers, the air thick with malice. Emily and Mark fought to escape, but the mirror's power was too strong. Their reflections grabbed hold of them, dragging them toward the broken shards, where the mirror would reclaim them forever.

Weeks later, the house was sold to a new couple, eager to start fresh in the charming old place. As they explored the attic, they found a broken mirror tucked away in the corner, hidden beneath a dusty cloth.

The wife laughed. “Looks like someone had bad luck with this mirror. Should we toss it?”

The husband shrugged. “Let’s keep it. It’s kind of a cool antique.”

As they left the attic, the pieces of glass began to tremble once more.

The End.