Mirrored Man

Curiosity is quite simply a bitch, but me being me, adventurous to the point I become stupid, let my curiosity roam free.

I should probably give you some background first, so you understand what I’m about to tell you better. I live in a quiet and seemingly perfect town in Connecticut. What originally was a peaceful farming town was now wealthy and stuck up, to an unbearable sense. Hence why when an outlet was soon to appear (featuring only designer stores) many were incredibly happy.

I on the other hand, was anything but. You see there’s this abandoned farmhouse where the outlets were soon to inhabit, and personally I thought they were ruining a beautiful historical site of what this town once was. Still, construction was to be carried out within just a few months.

My best friend and I, in all our disappointment, decided to drive down to the farmhouse before it was to be dismantled. As it is I love abandoned places so this was bound to be an amazing night. It took us fifteen minutes to drive down, and we parked off a tiny gravel road that was very apparently not been used for quite some time.

Already we could see part of the old barn, roof collapsing from a fire long ago, and nails sticking up here and there. Further into the distance we spotted two cars, both clearly from the days when the farm was running. One was a small blue car, both front doors pulled off from the hinges that once held it, the other was grey and barely recognizable pretty much just rusty scraps of metal forming a car like shape.

Looking off to the right, we spotted the main house, two stories and slowly decaying. White paint was peeling off the house, and all the glass in the windows were shattered. I guess you could call it the typical “horror house” but I still found it beautiful in a vintage way.

My friend, while adventurous, became more cautious than I was as the sky turned to a pale pink striped with the inevitable dark blue overtaking the sky.

I grabbed the flashlights in the glove compartment, and we both got out.

¨Sarah relax, it’s just an old farmhouse not some cemetery or whatever bullshit you read about online.” I blew it off, knowing if she became freaked out, I would be too.

“I know but still…it’s so creepy.” and I suppose it was, as the light became less and less within the sky you could still see the farmhouse’s white paint almost glowing.

There was silence between us for a few moments as we continued to survey the land our flashlights scouring over it.

A twig broke about five feet away and we both jumped, frightened by whatever animal had the perfect timing to make such a noise.

“Let’s look at the barn first okay?”

We walked over; both in complete silence, I think a bit of fear was starting to settle in between us but no one admitted to it. The barn itself was short in width but in length about a size of a football field. No joke, it was really that big which was odd but I didn’t think too much of it.

The fact the barn had been in a fire was apparent, there was warped metal laying about and half charred pieces of wood. Sarah and I attempted to enter but soon realized there was a wasp nest and some rats, neither we wanted to disturb. However in the right corner of the barn door, recently spray painted, was a pentagram with the word “beware” sprayed above it .

“Graffiti from the fucking bad ass High School kids.” I smirked and rolled my eyes, they were always trying to be edgy. But a pentagram? How completely and utterly unoriginal.

Oddly enough though, the feeling of being watched crept over me, and Sarah’s face showed she was feeling the same.

“This feels wrong…” She softly spoke, as if afraid to be overheard.

“Well yes, I suppose sneaking into an abandoned farmhouse would ruffle one’s feathers and be publicly deemed as wrong.” I knew my sarcasm was a bit harsh, but I was starting to feel agitated and unsettled by this whole situation.

I wasn’t as sure of myself as the feeling continued, almost like a bad decision that never leaves your side. The wind, as if egging us on started blowing up around us, consuming our hair and spinning it around into a tangle.

“Listen let’s just go into the house, the barn’s nothing special anyway.” I grunted in dissatisfaction. My feet weren’t agreeing with my body, wanting to stay exactly where it was, but my brain wanted to go forward and eventually won.

Walking, a nervous Sarah in tow, the house almost seemed more menacing as we got closer and I thought I could see a shadow in the second story window.

Whatever. Honestly, it was probably just a trick of the light, our flashlights reflecting off an object, some scientific reason, maybe a passing car’s headlights?

We entered the house through the back door, steps surprisingly sturdy for how old it was. There was a simple rug, an old type of welcome mat and a chair just a few feet away on a tiny porch. Upon walking in the abandonment was more than apparent. Nails were sticking up here and there, rusty and long. Old yellowed newspapers showing those old comic strips littered the floors, but one thing did look oddly new…a pillow.

Just sitting in the middle of what my best guess was once a living room, a maroon pillow. Bright as day, nothing like the decayed and dusty leftovers in the rest of the house.

“What the actual fuck?” I whispered to Sarah.

That’s when we heard it.

The steps creaking above slowly, as if someone was aware of our presence as we were of theirs. At this point my body was completely frozen as the creaking sped up a bit, coming forth to the stairs off to the side, and then the steps started sprinting.

Both me and Sarah screamed, bloodcurdling preparing for the worst possible scenario. I felt no horror movie could prepare me for whatever was about to come down, and I was right.

To be honest I don’t know what it really was, no words I can find to describe it to it’s full extent of just utter terror it inhabited.

It was a taller thing, with four black sockets of eyes (two on each side; think like a spider) and a crooked mouth. There was no nose, just the skeletal structure of where one should have been. Bits of his cheekbones seemed to be ripped off or maybe just missing, and his body was there, but not simultaneously. I couldn’t even begin to explain. But the two arms (from what I could see I’m assuming they were) ended in long hands that glinted in the pale moonlight.

It clicked. He was made up almost entirely of glass. That’s how he could be there and not at the same time. He opened his mouth to show what were fine toothed razors and let out a sound between a scream a shriek and a bowl.
I think Sarah realized this too because we ran off to the side door screaming at almost the exact same time.

Thrusting the creaky door open, not daring to even glance behind, we ran down the stairs. Both of us stayed quiet, knowing any sound could give away our location, though this thing probably already knew.

As my eyes adjusted to the now complete darkness (having to turn off our flashlights as to not be spotted), I saw something that still amazes me to this day.

Mirrors. Every wall. Even the ceiling and floor were covered in mirrors. They gleamed our reflection from every direction in the room, broadcasting ourselves for this monstrosity behind us. The stairs gave fact that it was coming, creaking under it’s weight in protest and Sarah let out a tiny gasp, too shocked for words anymore.
Do you remember the lights we got as children? The one that purposely flashed silhouettes on the wall for Halloween or stars or something?

Think of that times one thousand as it entered the room. He was there, everywhere, yet nowhere all at once.

Scurrying away from the stairs as far as possible, we began to search for a door.

The thing laughed, it fucking laughed or what I assumed was it’s laugh, as we desperately tried to get away. We couldn’t tell the difference between the real creature and the mirror copies, it loved watching our struggle.

“Help!” I cried to no one in particular, and Sarah began to sob.

He was coming closer, no matter what direction you looked in his image became larger. You could clearly see now that he really was made up of shards of glass, and his four black eye sockets glowed a type of red I’ve never seen before.

Stumbling over myself, I found a latch and desperately grabbed at it, yanking the thing open and seeing the outside.

Sarah and I screamed, running full fledged out of there towards our car, a loud pattering following us closely behind.

Making it to the car we quite literally hopped in, hoping to drive away as fast as we could.

No such luck though, as it jumped on our front hood, as if he was trying out for a spiderman movie.

I cried, realizing my chance to live was slipping away, knowing it had every intention to kill us.

It smiled, wider than humanly possible, those glass teeth glinting with menace.

“Time…” It croaked out in an odd voice, if that’s what you could call it.

“Death.” “Lucifer.” “Hell.” “All real.” The only words I picked up from the soft raspy voice talking to us.

Then it started crying, full out bawling, and blood ran from it’s empty eye sockets. I was completely in shock now, knowing I was about to die any second, but not knowing why.

The thing looked up from between it’s opaque hands, as if realizing we were still here.
It’s tongue darted from it’s mouth, licking his lips in a type of hungry way.

“Food good for soul.” Rubbing its stomach in a cavemen type fashion, it cocked its head.

I took the chance of it’s apparent admiration of how “good” we looked and started the car jamming on the gas to turn around.

Falling off the hood it shrieked and disappeared altogether, a black void, small but definitely there, swallowing him up.

Driving as fast as I could go off the gravel road and onto the highway, I started to calm my breathing down.

“Did that just…oh my god. No. No way.” Sarah couldn’t manage a full sentence as she tried to take in all that happened.

“I can’t…I can’t begin to understand…doesn’t…just no sense at all.” Was all I said. What the hell was that thing doing there? An abandoned farmhouse of all places…”

“Did you see…pentagram…the basement…the pentagram in the basement?” Sarah muttered out, almost as if to herself.

I hadn’t, I had been fixed on only finding an escape and not dying.

Shaking my head, I felt a coldness enraptured me.

“It was on…a mirror. As soon as it appeared down those steps it lit up…blueish glow…so creepy I can’t believe you…didn’t see it.” Her thoughts were jumbled.

“So was it a demon?” Sarah was more religious than I, so I figured she’d know.

“Yeah.” Was all she responded, and it hung in the air with a hollow grip on our souls.

Credit: Leah Bloschichak