Mirror,+Mirror

Mirror, Mirror

"So, what do you think, beautiful? It's in a good neighborhood, it's in great condition, and we're not going to have to mortgage our firstborn child for it." Samuel Fry said with a flourish, his arm outstretched towards the nice, two story house behind him. "Good thing." Gwen smiled as she spoke, gliding into place beneath his arm, which curled around her shoulders with practiced tenderness. She snuggled into his side. "Very good thing. I've already promised the first one in exchange for unlimited power and a midget." Sam's crazy smile only grew wider when his wife drove her elbow into his side. He laughed and leaned over to kiss her forehead. "You're Faustian pacts aside, it's a good house. Nice work, handsome." The house was indeed nice. It was a two story house, well kept and covered in dark red paneling. The front porch was painted a flattering shade of gray. There was a spacious back and side yard, lots of space for goofing around. Everything about the house seemed welcoming and almost picturesque, all it needed was a white picket fence. "I'm still wondering why it's selling for so cheap though." "I asked the owner that same question. Said he'd been trying to sell it for years, eventually got to the point that he just wanted rid of it, didn't care about making a profit. All of kids went off to college, and so he's been trying to sell this place so he can move. Don't worry, darling, I did my detective work." Gwen nodded, her suspicions satisfied. "So, are we going to have a look inside?" "Yeah, let's." Sam kissed his wife again, and together they headed into the house. On the surface, the place's interior was very much like it's exterior.. The entire downstairs had hardwood floors the color of gingerbread, and walls like cream. The lighting filled the rooms with a warm, festive glow, a Hallmark Christmas illumination. There was no furniture to speak of, all of it having been removed ages ago. Despite the welcoming air that filled the entire place, it was obvious to both husband and wife that this place hadn't known habitation for a long time. Dust covered the floors and counters, and cobwebs lurked in the corners. The rooms seemed lonely in their emptiness, without purpose and in some way aware of it. The more they looked around the downstairs, the more Sam and Gwen became conscious of an almost palpable sadness. This place had once been a beloved home, had seen children grow up, fall in love, make mistakes, live. Now it stood empty, just waiting mournfully for a new family to bring it back to life. "This place would be great to raise kids in. It's just begging to be called home." Gwen said, her dark eyes glittering with expectation. Sam kissed her softly on the lips in agreement. They smiled at each other, gazes locked, butterflies in their guts. They'd met in college, both English majors who'd stumbled into each other after class. They'd fallen in love almost accidentally, a happy quirk of fate. They dated for two years, got engaged, stayed that way for another two years, and finally tied the knot on a clear autumn day just like this one. "So...wanna explore the upstairs, milady?" Sam said, taking her hand and kissing it in an absurdly knightly gesture. Gwen laughed and curtsied. "Why dear sir, I would be delighted. Lead the way and I shall follow." Sam held out his arm for her to take, when her phone went off. With an irritated sigh, Gwen reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. "Sorry, handsome. It's Mom. You're going to have go on without me, brave explorer." She opened up her phone and stuck it to her ear, shooing Sam up the stairs with her free hand as she began talking. Sam went up alone, taking his banishment with dignity. The second floor of the building was less inviting. Their were fewer windows and lights, casting the hallways in gray light. There were even more cobwebs, which cast intricate and constantly moving shadows upon the walls. A cold breeze floated in from one of the rooms, chilling Sam despite the warm clothing he wore. This part of the house wasn't welcoming or sad, it was sinister. "Okay, so the owner left out some things. Still, nothing a little bit of work, and maybe an exorcism or two can't fix." He tried to sound cheerful, to bring back the warm, happy glow he'd enjoyed downstairs, with Gwen. But somewhere in space of a staircase, his optimism had abandoned him. Something about this place was making him nervous, his every instinct was telling him to head downstairs, grab Gwen and leave. Find a house that didn't creep him out. It was silly of course. There was nothing to be so nerved up about. Sam took a deep breath, and gave his head shake. All he had to do was take a quick look around, and then he could head back down to Gwen, then proceed to get the hell out of dodge. "Yeah, nothing to worry about." With his path set and the comforting sound of Gwen talking downstairs, Sam went to work. The first four rooms were empty, bedrooms and studies waiting to be filled. They were reassuringly similar to the downstairs, quietly sad, but all they needed was a little love to become home. As he went through them, Sam mentally furnished the rooms, placing what meager articles they had in various places. If they decided to buy this place, which now that he'd manned up and grown a pair, was again seeming likely, the furnishings would be a joint operation. It didn't hurt to think about this kind of thing ahead of time though. The next room Sam checked was the upstairs bathroom. It was remarkably clean in comparison with the rest of the upstairs. It was pretty standard in appearance, with a tiled floor and the various bits of plumbing placed in separate corners. The sink was right beside the door which Sam entered through, the shower was tucked into the comer facing him, and across the room was the toilet. There was also a door. It was jammed into the wall beside the toilet, dark and foreboding. The wood of the door was aged and almost black. A cold breeze slithered out from underneath it, filling the rest of the upstairs with withering cold. But the strangest thing about the door was that there was something carved into it. Shivering slightly, Sam walked over to the door to get a better look. Helter Skelter, hang sorrow, care will kill a cat, up tails all, and a pox on the hangman. Sam didn't know what it meant, but had a feeling that whatever those words entailed wasn't good. But, it was just one last room and then he'd be done with it. He just had to take a peek inside, and he'd be good. The feeling of dread he'd experienced earlier returned, stronger and burred even deeper in his bones. He opened the door, cautiously, as if he was expecting that he would need to shut it as soon on a moment's notice. The room was empty, but for an open window and tall shape obscured by a sheet. The spider webs were thick, and inhabited with arachnids of all sizes and colors. The many legged horrors retreated away from Sam, in the process forming a kind of path between him and the enshrouded shape. The air was musty, and smelled strongly of age and decay, though Sam couldn't see any sign of either. He needed to leave. There was something wrong with this room, something twisted and old, something that lurked at the edge of his perception and turned his body to ice. He had to leave, to get out before whatever was in the room, whatever was beneath the sheet, took notice of him. Sam crossed the room before he'd even realized he had started moving, and ripped off the sheet. The mirror stood revealed, its ornate and withered frame shining wetly in the autumn light. The frame depicted scenes of bizarre, carnival horror. Freakish, monstrous forms, creatures who's shape suggested a lineage both of humanity and strangely divorced from it, writhed up the sides. Over top the reflective glass was depicted a smiling man with arms outstretched. His teeth were large and unevenly spaced, making a horrible mockery of the smile. Beady, verminous eyes were sunken into the malformed face. It was a thing of opulent grotesquery, a sordid inversion of everything beautiful and refined. Sam stared into the dark mirror, shaking in a fear whose origins he couldn't place. There was no reason to be so terrified of the mirror, and yet he was. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, studying it with the absolute attention to detail of a rabbit staring into the slavering jaws of a wolf. The reflection was tall and wiry, with long bony arms and legs. It was all points, from its fingers to its toes, everything was long, thin, and spiky. Long brown hair covered its head and spilled around its neck, curling into slight ringlets at the ends. Intense, dark brown eyes stared from above high cheekbones, while it's mouth, which lent itself to smirking and sneering, was suspended above a prominent chin. In short, it was identical to Sam in every way. At least, until it winked at him. Sam fell backwards onto his rear, eyes wide and his mouth gaping open. He tried to shout, to make his vocal chords form noises, but they seemed paralyzed. All he could do was look on in astonishment as the reflection in the mirror moved of its own accord. "Mirror mirror on the wall, what in your dark surface holds men in thrall." The reflection sneered, a cruel, catlike gleam in its eyes. "Is it vanity that makes people stare with rapt attention at their own reflections, like Narcissus gazing into the waters. Or maybe it's curiosity that makes mirrors so enticing, wondering what oddity of genetics gave you that particular nose or that color of eyes. Or, and this is my personal favorite, it is revulsion that drives you sacks of meat to stare at yourselves for hours on end. You stare into the void of your own existence, reflected in your eyes, and for all that you hate it you can't look away." The reflection stepped out of the mirror as if it was a open door, leaving a reflection of its own as it left. It looked like Sam, and had the same voice, but the way it spoke and the way it moved were quite different. The voice was too smooth, too cold. It had none of the humor or melodrama with which Sam spoke. It circled Sam slowly, eying him with a mad, fervent gaze. Its footfalls made no noise, and it moved with an inhuman fluidity, more feline than man. "What do you think, Sam? Why do you think people spend so much time looking into mirrors?" It smiled at him, lips slowly drawing back into a sneer. Its tongue peeked out and ran over its teeth. Sam didn't know what to say, wasn't sure if he could say anything. Finally, he was able to squeeze out a couple words. "Wh-what are you? What in gods name are you?" He stammered, unable to think of anything else to say. The reflection laughed, a dead laugh, devoid of anything resembling human feeling. "Oh you are cute. Why, I'm you. I'm the you with all of the waggly tailed puppy pieces cut out. I'm you without conscious, without humility, without joy. I am the void looking back at you, the fallen angel bound in chains in the depths of your soul, writhing and howling in the dark. I am the impulse which drives you to self destruction. I'm your inner devil, let off of your shoulder and allowed to play. And god how I want to play." Sam's reflection closed its eyes and shivered in ecstasy at the thought. Sam made a run for it. The way the thing said the word play filled him with terror, not for himself but for Gwen. The thought of the reflection even being in the same room as her caused him to shrug off whatever had had held him in place. But before he even reached the door, before he could open his mouth to shout a warning to her, something slammed into his side, driving Sam into the wall. Something cold and sharp was pressed against the back of his neck, and warm, moist breath wafted by his ear. "That wasn't nice, Sam. Tch, tch, tch, tch, not nice at all. Still, I like the way you think. I was so focused on the fun I could have with you that I had practically forgotten our beautiful bride. And that would have been a shame, I can tell you." Sam growled and tried to fight back, hit the reflection with an elbow. A hand him by his hair, and slammed his face into the wall. He felt his nose smash against the wall, felt the bones break. Sam's eyes watered, and his mind went fuzzy, unable to think clearly. From a mile away, Sam heard Gwen's voice calling to him, asking if he was okay. He forced himself to try and say something, to shout for her to run, to save herself. Before he could open his mouth, the hand slammed his head against the wall again. Everything began to go dark. He felt sick, but suddenly he couldn't remember why he was trying to scream for Gwen. Right before Sam lost consciousness, he heard a voice whisper into his ear. "Don't worry, Sam. I'll take good care of her until you wake up. Then, we can play. Sweet dream." Gwen stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up. She knew she'd heard a noise from upstairs, a thump as if someone had fallen. She'd cut short the conversation with Mother when she heard it. Sam was up there, had been for a while. "Hey handsome, what are you doing up there?" She called. There wasn't a reply, just another thumping noise. Something wasn't right. Gwen could feel it in her gut. Sam would have said something, let her know he was alright. He was protective of her in his own way, tried his best not to make her worry, to make her laugh. "Sam, honey, are you alright?" She called again, beginning to make her way upstairs. There were sounds of movement from above and then she heard Sam's voice. "Sorry beautiful, didn't hear you. I'm alright, just exploring the dark depths of the place. Lots of cool stuff up here. Come take a look, there's a room I found that you'll just love." Gwen breathed a sigh of relief. For a second there she'd been really worried. She continued up the stairs, ignoring the faint feeling that something was very wrong. "What did you find that was so impressive?" She asked as the reached the top of the stairs. Gwen turned the corner and almost ran into Sam. Except, it wasn't Sam. It looked exactly like him, but whatever it was, it wasn't her Sam. Gwen tried to scream, but a strong, hard hand closed over her mouth, and knife appeared in front of her face, dangling daintily from the thing's hands. The reflection smiled at her, old, mad, and cruel. "Oh, just this mirror I found. Come take a look, beautiful. Don't worry, it'll be fun."