The Thing in the Mirror

Jake had never believed in ghosts. He had always dismissed supernatural stories as tricks of the mind. That was until he moved into his new apartment—a small but affordable place with an old-fashioned feel. The only thing he found odd was the massive antique mirror in the hallway.

It was tall, its golden frame covered in strange carvings. The landlord said it was built into the wall and couldn’t be removed. Jake didn’t think much of it—until the first night.

As he walked past the mirror to get a glass of water, he noticed something strange.

His reflection hesitated.

Jake froze. He had only glanced for a second, but something felt... wrong.

Shaking his head, he convinced himself he was imagining things. He drank his water and went back to bed.

But as he lay there, his thoughts kept returning to the mirror.

The next night, he decided to test it. He stood in front of the mirror and waved.

His reflection waved back.

He turned his head left. It followed.

He lifted his right arm. It did the same.

Satisfied, he chuckled. See? Just my imagination.

Then, as he turned to walk away, his reflection smiled.

Jake’s breath caught in his throat.

He hadn’t smiled.

His hands clenched into fists. Slowly, he turned back. His reflection looked normal again. Expressionless.

But now, Jake noticed something even worse.

The carvings on the frame weren’t just random patterns. They were faces. Twisted, screaming faces.

A chill ran down his spine.

He backed away, refusing to look into the mirror again that night.

Over the next few days, he started avoiding the hallway altogether. But no matter what he did, he always felt watched.

Then, on the fifth night, it happened again.

As he passed by, something in the mirror moved.

Jake wasn’t moving.

His reflection was.

He forced himself to stare. His reflection stood still, mirroring him perfectly.

Then, it blinked.

Once.

Twice.

A slow, deliberate smile stretched across its face.

Then—

It raised its hand and waved.

Jake ran.

He locked himself in his bedroom, shoving a chair under the doorknob. He barely slept, waiting for the morning.

At sunrise, he called a moving company. He didn’t care about losing the security deposit—he just needed to leave.

As he grabbed his suitcase and stepped into the hallway one last time, he made the mistake of looking at the mirror.

His reflection was gone.

But before he could react—

A hand slammed against the glass.

From the inside.

A cracked, hollow voice whispered:

"Let me out."

Jake didn’t look back.

He never returned.