The Shadow Within the Mirror

The old-fashioned mirror that hung in Sofia's grandmother's hallway had always captivated her. Its elaborately carved, elegant frame seemed to tell historical tales.

The glass itself looked a little foggy, as if it had seen far more than it wished to admit. She enjoyed using her fingertips to trace the patterns on the frame, wondering who else had looked into its depths.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and dusk settled in, Sofia wandered over to the mirror. The house was quiet—too quiet. The usual creaks and groans of the old place had ceased, leaving only an eerie stillness.

She looked into the mirror and saw herself, but something was off. The reflection seemed darker, almost shadowy, and her own eyes looked back at her with an intensity that didn’t quite match her feelings.

She leaned closer, studying her face, when suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flicker. It was faint, but unmistakable—a shadow moving behind her. She spun around, expecting to see someone standing there, but the hallway was empty.

Turning back to the mirror, her heart skipped a beat; the shadow hadn’t disappeared. It lingered there, hovering just behind her reflection, growing darker and more defined.

“Hello?” Sofia whispered, feeling silly for talking to a mirror, yet the sensation of being watched was overwhelming. The shadow didn’t respond, but it shifted slightly, almost as if it were stepping closer to her.

She could make out the vague shape of a figure—tall, with indistinct features—as though it was hiding in the fog of the mirror’s surface.

Her breath caught in her throat. Was it a trick of the light? Or was there really something, someone, trapped behind the glass?

She reached out, her fingers trembling as they touched the cold surface. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a chill ran through her hand, spreading up her arm as if the mirror itself was drawing her in.

Suddenly, the shadow moved. It leaned closer to her reflection, and she saw its face—vague, undefined, but undeniably human. It mouthed words she couldn’t hear, its eyes wide and pleading.

Sofia yanked her hand back, stumbling away from the mirror, her pulse racing. But the shadow didn’t vanish this time; it remained, now more visible than before, pressing against the inside of the glass as though it was trying to escape.

She backed away slowly, her gaze fixed on the mirror. The figure’s movements grew more frantic, its hands pushing harder against the inside of the glass, as though it was trapped behind a thin barrier and desperately trying to break through.

With each second, the shadow grew clearer, its features sharpening. It wasn’t just a reflection anymore—it was a presence, real and terrifying.

Just as Sofia was about to run for help, the mirror cracked, a thin spiderweb of lines spreading across the surface. The shadow stopped, its expression changing from desperation to something else—a twisted, satisfied smile.

And then, as quickly as it had appeared, it faded back into the darkness, leaving only the cracked glass and her own pale, frightened reflection.

Sofia could barely breathe. She glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting to see the shadow lurking in the hallway behind her, but it was gone. When she looked back at the mirror, all she saw was her own face, framed by the fractured glass.

From that day on, she avoided the mirror, never daring to look too closely. Yet, sometimes, late at night, she would hear a faint tapping from the hallway, like fingernails gently tapping against the glass. And she knew, deep down, that the shadow still lingered, waiting for another chance to reach out from the other side.