Brian had always hated mirrors. Something about them made him uneasy—like they were more than just reflections. So, when he moved into his new apartment, he was annoyed to find a massive, antique mirror bolted to the wall in his bedroom.
The landlord had refused to remove it.
“It’s been there longer than the building itself,” the old man said with a shrug.
That first night, Brian avoided looking at it. But as he lay in bed, he felt something… off. A strange heaviness in the air. He turned over, his eyes flicking to the mirror.
His reflection was smiling.
Brian’s breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t smiling. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, but the reflection stayed the same—grinning widely, unnaturally.
Then it moved.
Not like a normal reflection—no. It took a step forward, while Brian remained frozen in bed. The grin widened, stretching too far, teeth gleaming in the dim light.
Brian bolted out of bed, grabbed the nearest object—a chair—and threw it at the mirror. The glass shattered into a thousand shards.
Panting, he turned on the light.
The room was empty. Just broken glass on the floor.
Relieved, he let out a shaky laugh. “Just my imagination,” he muttered.
But as he looked closer…
The shattered pieces reflected something that wasn’t there.
A shadow. A tall, grinning figure standing right behind him.
And then, the lights went out.