The Mirror

It was a bright and clear day when Greta moved into her new home on Elm Street. She had saved for nearly ten years and was proud of her accomplishment. No more crappy apartments for her, no sir! She was a bona fide homeowner now.

Her friends thought she was crazy to invest nearly one hundred thousand dollars in the small, two-story home, but it had always been her dream to own her own house, and she didn't let their negative comments faze her in the least.

"Greta, if you rent you don't have to pay all the utilities. You don't have to do maintenance and yardwork. How are you going to keep the place up? You don't know jack shit about plumbing or electrical. What if something breaks down? You can't call the landlord to deal with it!" Her ex-husband, Larry, had berated her.

"Larry, I can call a plumber or electrician if anything needs to be fixed. I understand it will cost a little more, but I just got a raise and promotion. I'll be fine," Greta had snapped. She wasn't going to let Larry, or anyone else for that matter, ruin her good mood. Not today. Not ever. She was a homeowner!

By ten o'clock that night, she was exhausted. The movers had put the furniture in the right rooms, but she had rearranged it all herself. The boxes could be unpacked tomorrow, she decided. She was too tired to do anymore.

Yawning, she climbed the stairs to the master bedroom and plopped down on the mattress. She wasn't even going to bother putting the bed together. Sleep overtook her, quickly.

Early the next morning, Greta awoke to the sound of someone knocking on her front door. She rose and staggered down the stairs, her eyes barely open.

"What time is it?" she asked the strange young man standing on her front stoop.
"It's six o'clock. I'm here to hook up your cable. Remember? You set up the appointment last week."
"Oh yes, of course, please come in."

The young man introduced himself as Jake. She showed him where the cable hookups were located.

"Do I need to hook up the t.v. first?" she inquired, still feeling a tad drowzy.
"Nope, I can tell if they work with this little gadget right here," he replied, waving a small box in her general direction.
"Great, then if you don't need me, I'm going to make some coffee. Would you like some?"
"No, thank you."

Greta stood sipping a cup of Maxwell House instant coffee, leaning on her kitchen counter. She had taken the day off work so she could work on unpacking, but she wasn't entirely sure where she should start. Boxes labelled "kitchen" covered the linoleum. With a sigh, she picked one up and set it on the counter.

As she opened it, she heard a muffled thump that sounded as if it had come from directly below her feet. Frowning, she walked over to the basement door and listened.

Nothing.

Feeling foolish, she turned back toward the box.

THUMP

Greta jumped. That was definitely from the cellar.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the basement door and peered down into the darkness.

"Hello? Is someone there?" her voice shook.
"Pardon me?" the cable installer called from the living room.
"Nothing!" She felt silly, but flipped the switch for the basement light and slowly headed down the steps.

The basement was small and unfinished. The dirt floor smelled slightly of mildew and it was cold and damp.
I'm definitely going to lay concrete down here.

She walked over to inspect the furnace, thinking maybe it had kicked in for some reason. But, it was cold and quiet. Movement to her left startled her, causing her to jump back with a gasp.

"Who's there?" she squeaked. Then, seeing the full-length mirror standing in the corner, she felt more foolish than ever.
Jesus, Greta. Startled by your own fucking reflection. Nice going.

She walked over to examine the mirror and was surprised to see that it was a beautiful and well-kept antique. The frame looked to be real oak, with ornate designs carved into it. The mirror itself was strangely spotless, though it had to have been sitting in the basement for over a year, since that was the last time anyone had lived in the house, according to the realtor.

"How bizarre," Greta murmured. She reached out to touch the frame.
"Don't touch!" A man's voice commanded, sternly.
Greta let out a scream and jumped backwards. "Who said that?"
"I did. Do NOT touch this mirror. I will not warn you again."

Slowly, an image began to appear before her in the glass. It gradually replaced her reflection with the image of a handsome young man. He was tall, with an athletic build, pale skin, black hair and black eyes. He looked very angry.

"How? I mean, Who?" Greta stammered. "What the hell is going on here?"
"I will ask the questions," he responded. "Why are you disturbing my rest?"
"I...I'm sorry. I don't understand. How did you get into the mirror?"
"Lady, you wouldn't believe me if I told you. All I can tell you is this. Do not touch the mirror. Ever. That is your only warning."
"But..."
"Leave me be. I'm tired."

The man's image faded away and Greta was left staring into her own green, troubled eyes.


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A week passed and Greta had nearly forgotten about the strange mirror in her basement. She had finally unpacked all the boxes and her house was set up just as she wanted it. Her new job was demanding, but she had never been happier. She had worked hard to become the vice president in charge of marketing at the accounting firm she had worked for for nearly 15 years. Tonight, she sat in front of her computer, trying to think of something interesting to post in her MySpace blog.

She knew it was kind of silly, but she enjoyed the people she chatted with on the site. She had been alone for three years since divorcing Larry, and she hoped to someday meet someone that she could spend the rest of her life with. Someone, who wouldn't cheat on her with young, blonde bimbos while she was working long hours to get ahead. Someone, who wouldn't look at her career as a threat.

An I.M. window popped up on her screen. VampireHunter was the most intriguing man she'd met recently. He was into some very strange hobbies, but he fascinated her. He was only two years younger than her, at 33 years old, and she sometimes fantasized about meeting him and just letting loose for one night.

VampireHunter: Hey sexy, what's up?
Greta07: Hi, babe. Just trying to think of something to blog.
VampireHunter: Wanna cyber?
Greta07: Not right now, hon. I'm kinda tired.
VampireHunter: How's the new house coming?
Greta07: Wonderful! Everything's all set up. Oh, I forgot to tell you...there's an antique mirror in the basement. I had the strangest hallucination in it, the day after I moved in.
VampireHunter: Oh? Do tell!
Greta07: I was about to touch the frame and a man appeared and warned me to never touch the mirror. I was so tired that morning. Weird, huh?

Greta waited.

Good job, stupid. Now he thinks you're a mental case.

VampireHunter: What did he look like?
Greta07: Oh, I thought I'd scared you off. lol.
VampireHunter: Not at all. Tell me about him.
Greta07: Well, he was tall, very fair-skinned, with black hair and eyes. Handsome.
VampireHunter: I have to go for now. Will you be on later?
Greta07: Oh. Yes, I should be.

VampireHunter signed off.

Greta shut down the computer and sat quietly, contemplating. The conversation had seemed odd. Shaking her head, she got up and headed to the kitchen to dig up a snack.

Later that night, Greta signed back on, hoping to find her strange new friend.
Sure enough, he was there, apparently waiting for her.

VampireHunter: Hey, babe. Sorry for running off, but I had to check something out.
Greta07: No problem.
VampireHunter: A friend of mine is an antiques collector. He's been looking for a mirror that sounds like the one you described. Is there any way I could come take a look at it?
Greta07: Well, I don't know. What makes you think it's the same one?
VampireHunter: There's a legend about a haunted mirror. I know, it sounds crazy, but it's worth a lot of money. He's willing to pay one million dollars if it's the one he's looking for.
Greta07: A million? OMG. I don't know. I guess, if you want...

Before she realized what she was doing, she had given him her home address and phone number. They set up an appointment for the following morning and signed off.

Stupid, Greta. What is wrong with you? He could be a serial killer for all you know.

Feeling stupid, she headed back down to the cellar.

It probably isn't the right mirror anyway. Assuming, his story is even true. You're going to get yourself in trouble, Greta.

Greta stood before the mirror and took a deep breath. Reaching out, she touched the glass. She screamed as a hand grasped her wrist and pulled her into the mirror.

The tall, handsome man stood before her, glowering.
"What did I fucking tell you?" he screamed, shaking his fist at her.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize! Where am I?"
"You're in my world now, and you may never leave!" he grasped her around the waist and sunk his fangs deep into her jugular. Greta passed out.

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VampireHunter stood on Greta's front stoop, ringing her doorbell.
"Shit, I hope I'm not too late," he muttered under his breath. Trying the knob and finding it locked, he looked around and then, with a swift kick, broke down her front door.

"Greta? Greta!!!!" he shouted, frantically. "Greta, are you okay?"

The house was still and silent as a tomb.

He searched the first and second floors, thoroughly, and then ventured into the basement. The light was still on and he could hear a woman, softly crying.

"Greta, where are you? I'm here. Are you hurt?

"VampireHunter, is that you?" the voice seemed to come from the darkest corner of the room.

"Yes, it's me. My real name is Jake. Are you all right?"

"Jake, help me. I'm hurt."

Jake cautiously crept toward the sound of her voice, pulling a sharp, wooden stake from his back pocket. He stopped when he saw the mirror.

"My God, it's beautiful," he gasped.

"Jake, please help me, I'm trapped," Greta sobbed.

Jake stood before the mirror, puzzled. Where could she be? The room was too small for her to be hidden from his view. Then, as he watched in terror, his image faded and was replaced by hers. She reached out her hand.

"Please, pull me out. I'm so scared."

Slowly, as if hypnotized, he reached into the mirror.

"Welcome, Jake," Greta smiled, showing her new, sharp fangs. "So glad you could join us."

Too late, Jake struck wildly with the wooden stake. He never saw the man behind him.