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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2110537-Captured-in-the-Mirror
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2110537
Anne and her partner in renovation investigate an old house in need of their services.
The people who came before us must have been very brave! For this was no ordinary house, it held secrets so dark that even the devil himself would be scared of. For in this house, this house of mirrors, was an energy so dark and terrifying, that the blood that had been shed there was only the beginning.

When we first arrived, there was an eerie feeling of disturbing something ancient as we set foot in the big hall. The mansion had sat empty for years and now it was our job to renovate, or so we thought.

Anne looked around at the deep oak flooring and walls, reflecting the darkness of the place. She immediately set about lighting the chandelier that hung above the red velvet steps. Each emitted little light, barely reaching beyond the darkness of the space below. Sighing, Anne turned on her flashlight and started up the stairs to explore the rest of the house while her partner, James, stayed downstairs to inspect the damage there.

The stair were wet and squishy under her feet, and Anne made a mental note that the whole thing would have to be ripped out and redone, as she continued down the hall towards the rooms. Peeking in each, she flashed her light around, inky blackness engulfing her light and barely allowing her an idea of what was in each room.

Suddenly a scream pierced the still air, causing Anne to jump and drop her flashlight, breaking it in the process.

"Shit,” Anne exclaimed, heart hammering in her throat as she wildly searched for the source of the sound. Without the light of her flashlight, though, she found herself immersed in the darkness of the place.

“James,” she shouted, her voice trembling, as she groped the floor for her flashlight. “Was that you? Are you ok?”

Only an eerie silence answered her. She felt cold and clammy and relief flooded her briefly as she found her flashlight, only to find the broken bulb by cutting her fingers on it.

"Ow!"

That was enough for Anne, she would come back some other time. Even though she didn’t believe in the supernatural, she was sure that something was lurking in the darkness just waiting to spring out at her. Shaking her head, she hurriedly sucked on her fingers to stop the bleeding as she turned back the way she’d come.

As she was doing so, a room was illuminated at the end of the hall by natural light shining in from what was probably huge windows. Anne felt drawn to the room, and even though it was further into the inky blackness of the house, she convinced herself there was light and there she could regroup.

The scream she’d heard had come from down in that direction, but Anne forced her way down there to where the light could save her.

Upon entering the room, Anne cast her eyes around in awe:

A deep oak trim and casings outlined off-white walls and a high arching ceiling. Rafters hung suspended about a foot below and emphasized a vast emptiness filling the unremarkable room. Cedar laminate swallowed the floor, contrasting greatly with its oak counterpart.

Furniture peeked out from under white, dust covered sheets. Particles floated in the air and the sheets rustled slightly, moved by the breeze that snuck in from under one of the open windows, providing eyes to an autumn evening. Trees of a collage of orange, yellow, and green lined the dirt road leading to a courtyard with marble statues of two horse heads. Each stood tall and proud in the midst of swirling leaves, guarding the stone steps up to the front door.

The setting sun cast an array of light which struck the old mirror in the center of the room. It stood there, the star of the stage. The mahogany frame had dulled and splintered, leaving sharp shards of wood loose. Shaped like a wavy, discordant melody, the mirror’s full length float glass inset shimmered and
swirled like a mass of churning, black waters.

A pungent odor – burnt wood – hung in the air, coming off the mirror in waves as the reflection bent and the glass moved of its own volition, leaving the indent of several human faces plying at the glass for release.

This was a mirror to the spirit world, a portal of entry for what ever wanted in. Anne stared in horror, but found herself walking closer and closer to the mirror. It had to be a trick mirror, after all, spirits didn’t really exist.

However, on further inspection, the mirror revealed so many writhing souls that Anne couldn’t even see her own reflection. Another scream pierced the air, but this time it came from Anne herself. The closer she got, the more it seemed as if the hands and faces reached out for her, ghoulish green and white faces with gray hands penetrating this side of the mirror. It was too late before Anne came to the conclusion that she was not hallucinating, and the gray hands and faces of the dead surrounded her, freezing cold grasping through her skin, drawing her into the mirror itself. Anne screamed and struggled, writhing with the cold and trying to tear away from the hands and faces but they just pulled her in faster.

"No, NO, NO!!!” Anne screamed as she was sucked into the mirror.

Everything was gray and gloomy inside the mirror. And Anne found herself floating in a formless shape, unable to regain her human form.

“AH, finally” came a raspy chilling voice, “A new pet to play with.”

Anne flailed around, trying to find the source of the voice, but all she could see was the dark and empty room. She felt lost and trapped, something was very wrong with this place. With a bit of luck, she glimpsed the mirror she’d been pulled through, and fled toward it. She didn’t want to find out what type of pet she was or who that voice belonged to.
Once at the mirror, she reached for it, plying hard at the surface which was made of an oddly thick liquid that kept reflecting back what she pushed at.

She felt a tug on her feet, or the place where her feet would be, and soon, she was flowing backwards, being drawn away from the mirror, towards the voice.

“Tsk, tsk, you’re mine now, there will be no escape!”

Anne screamed, a shrill terrifying sound, as the specter pulled her deep into the mirror and away from freedom.

Word Count 1093
© Copyright 2017 Piratess Dawniebelle (silverathame at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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