January 22, 2022

The demon in the mirror

Cartoon stick drawing conceptual illustration of smiling man looking at yourself in mirror and seeing monster or devil.

Cartoon stick drawing conceptual illustration of smiling man looking at yourself in mirror and seeing monster or devil.

This is a work of fiction.

Names are pure coincidence.

Locations may be real; I am

not entirely sure. Be advised

this contains some gore imagery.

Enjoy the read.

Have you ever looked into a mirror, and wondered, “What if something malevolent was to pop out and get me?” I didn’t, until a few hours ago.

My name is Connor, and I live near Eugene, Oregon. For years, I longed for the four bed, two and- a-half bath house that rests just north of Eugene.

When I turned 23, about four years back, I was surprised to see the house for sale at some ridiculously low price

and, of course, I bought it. Moving in wasn’t so much a hassle, being fresh out of college and not owning too much. The previous owners had left it semi-furnished, which was nice, except for one thing: an ornate mirror.

The mirror frame is adorned with what looks like sumac leaves; similar to olive leaves, but different in shape. Ancient runic engravings line the space without the leaves. The glass is tinted a slight black, but hardly noticeable. But the aura around the mirror was all malevolent.

For those four years I left it where it hung in front of the front door, my reflection stared back every time I left the house until I finally decided to get rid of it. The moment I got in the house after I threw it in the garbage bin outside, to my surprise, the stupid thing was back where it was before, but the aura was stronger, more evil. I went to remove it once more, but a stinging sensation shot up my arms.

Flipping my hands back, I see streaks of Chardonnay red streaking down the front of the mirror, bits of fire red and olive are sticking to where my hands had touched the mirror and glass. I look to my hands and see bone and muscle. And lots of blood. I shoot my gaze to the mirror, but instead of my reflection, a horned beast stares back at me through the blood covering the glass. Glowing red eyes, a mask of what looked to be a skull, covered a mostly rotted face, the lack of lips and sickly gray skin are evidence enough. I turn and run. Run as fast as I can, drops of blood pittering behind me as I swing my hands back and forth.

I make it to one of the spare bedrooms, hide in the closet. I am still there. I heard glass shatter about an hour ago, with a rather deep but loud growl rumbling through the house.

I sit here, shakily writing this on my cell, the brightness all the way down. I hear heavy footsteps outside the door to the room. The door opens. I can see it. Blood red wings, ash gray rotted skin strung upon a bony body. If anyone finds this, and I’m not here, assume the worst.

Do not look for me. I am alre…

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