Title: The Mirror's Other Side Some reflections don’t stay in the mirror…

Title: The Mirror's Other Side Some reflections don’t stay in the mirror… they follow you. Rudra first entered the residence at about 12:30 a.m. The two-story house in Kolkata's old Hatibagan neighborhood stood in eerie silence with peeling paint, dusty windows, and a creaking gate as it opened. People in the neighborhood whispered about it—how no one stayed there for long, how strange things happened after midnight. The house was cursed, they claimed. However, Rudra was opposed to such notions. He was modern, practical, and a little overconfident in his logic. A new job at an advertising agency had brought him to Kolkata, and with rental prices sky-high, the abandoned house seemed like a good deal. Too good, perhaps. Mitali, his wife, was more reticent. They had only recently married, still adjusting to married life. When she first saw the house, she shivered slightly. She had stated, "It feels... cold." “It’s just the air inside. It’s been locked up for a while,” Rudra replied, brushing it off. The first few days passed without incident. The house was dusty, sure, but surprisingly solid. The water pressure was low, the lights occasionally flickered, and the wooden floors creaked, but it was manageable. It even felt peaceful at times. However, on the fifth night, things started to change. After dinner, Rudra was brushing his teeth when he glanced at the old mirror in their bedroom. For a moment—just a moment—he saw a flicker of movement. A shadow, behind him. But when he turned, no one was there. He looked back. The mirror was unoccupied. At first, he didn't say anything. Maybe it was his reflection. Or perhaps the dim yellow light was deceiving someone. The same thing took place the following night. The shadow appeared again—same spot, same shape. Rudra stared longer this time. It didn’t move like a trick of light. It was still. Watching. He told Mitali about it, who laughed and said, “You watch too many horror movies.” However, Rudra was unable to shake the sense of unease. The shadow was in the mirror, not in the room. On the seventh night, Rudra set up a camera aimed directly at the mirror. He considered, "If it’s just my imagination, nothing will show." At 1 AM, they turned off the lights and went to sleep. The next morning, he reviewed the footage. For the first hour, nothing. Just silence, stillness. However, the screen became slightly darker at precisely 2:10 AM. A humanoid shadow began to emerge from within the mirror, standing tall and almost touching it from within. As if trying to communicate, it moved slowly forward rather than quickly. It then tilted its head and opened its mouth just before it vanished, but no sound came out. Rudra’s hands trembled. He showed Mitali the footage. She said nothing for a long moment. She finally said in a whisper, "We ought to leave this house." That night, Rudra couldn’t sleep. He groaned at every sound. The creaking of the old walls and the wind against the window. Around 2 AM, he finally drifted off—only to be jolted awake by a strange, low humming sound. The door to the bedroom was open. Mitali wasn’t in bed. Heart pounding, Rudra ran out and found her standing still in front of the mirror. She didn't move. Just staring. However, while her actual face was expressionless, her reflection was smiling. “Mitali!” he shouted, running to her. No response. He grabbed her shoulder. She slowly turned her head toward him, her eyes blank. Then, in a whisper that wasn’t entirely hers, she said, "It is now within me... I am no longer me." Rudra turned toward the mirror. His blood ran cold. Inside, standing behind the glass, was another Mitali. Identical in appearance—but her eyes were pitch black and her smile twisted inhumanly. Then, without warning, the mirror cracked with a loud snap. From the spreading fractures emerged the shadow—more visible than before. A face took shape—half-burnt, half-masked by shadow. Glowing red eyes pierced through the darkness. Its mouth opened, revealing a set of jagged, decaying teeth. It spoke in a guttural, bone-chilling voice: "I own everyone who enters this house." Now, it’s your turn.” Rudra screamed and staggered back. Desperate, he grabbed a wooden stick from the corner and threw it at the mirror. With a thunderous crash, the mirror exploded into shards. Then—complete darkness. When the lights returned, Rudra found himself in bed. Drenched in sweat. Breathing deeply. Mitali was next to him, concerned. “Rudra! Are you okay?” she asked. He looked around. Everything looked normal. The mirror was whole. The room was untouched. “Was it just a dream?” he whispered. That very morning, they made the decision to leave the house. Rudra checked the footage once more on his laptop as he packed to reassure himself. But what he saw made his blood freeze. At exactly 2:10 AM, the shadow returned. This time, it didn’t just drift forward. It looked directly at the camera, tilted its head, and slowly mouthed the words: "I'm now with you." [Plot Twist Ending] Weeks passed. The couple moved into a high-rise apartment far from the city's old neighborhoods after Rudra took time off from work. Life returned to normal. Or so it seemed. Rudra used Mitali's phone one afternoon to look up a contact. As he scrolled through the gallery, he found a hidden album titled “Old House.” He opened it. There were dozens of images and videos from their stay in the Hatibagan house. But one final video caught his eye. It was dated two days before they left. Recorded at exactly 2:10 AM. Curious—and afraid—he played it. The same dark mirror. The same dim bedroom lighting. Suddenly, the shadow appeared again. But this time… Rudra himself stepped out of the mirror. Not a shadow. Not a distortion. Another Rudra. Identical, calm, and smiling. He watched the real Rudra and Mitali sleep from beside the bed. Then, he looked straight at the camera—and winked. The phone was dropped by Rudra. His mind raced. If the version of him in the video stepped out of the mirror… then who was he? Was he the real Rudra? Or just a shadow that had crossed over? The room suddenly felt colder. From the corner of the bedroom, the mirror on the wardrobe began to shimmer. A reflection that didn’t quite match his movements stared back. And grinned.