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The Mirror’s Curse
Sophie coincidentally found the secondhand store shop on a blustery evening, its dusty windows concealing the fortunes inside. She had been meandering the roads, erratically, looking for an interruption from the mind-boggling dreariness of her life. The chime over the entryway jingled delicately as she entered, and a warm, stale smelling fragrance welcomed her. Racks packed with old books, inquisitive knickknacks, and impossible to miss objects lined the walls.
Her eyes were attracted to a mirror — a tall, resplendent edge of discolored gold. Its surface shined, however the remainder of the shop was faint, similar to it had retained a peculiar light from another world.
“Fascinating decision,” the businessperson commented, an old man with slim silver hair and an endured face. He watched her with a disrupting power.
“It’s delightful,” Sophie murmured, connecting with contact the edge. There was an attractive thing about it, similar to it was calling to her.
“You ought to be cautious with that one,” the businessperson cautioned, his voice low and rough. “It’s not only a mirror. It shows more than whatever’s on a superficial level.”
Sophie giggled anxiously. “It’s simply a mirror.”
“In addition to any mirror,” he squeezed. “That one’s reviled. It mirrors an alternate reality — a hazier one.”
Sophie waved him off. She wasn’t one to have faith in condemnations or odd notions. She hadn’t trusted in much by any stretch of the imagination recently, truth be told. Her life was a progression of dark days, without variety, desire, or energy. Perhaps this mirror would be a decent discussion piece, she thought, something to separate the bluntness of her loft.
“I’ll take it,” Sophie expressed, giving over the cash. The retailer didn’t attempt to stop her.
Back in her little loft, she put the mirror on the wall opposite her lounge chair. It was excessively enormous, truly, yet there was a convincing thing about it. She plunked down, gazing at her appearance.
Right away, nothing appeared to be wrong. The standard, worn out Sophie gazed back at her — tired eyes, dull hair maneuvered into a muddled bun, a blurred sweater. However at that point, her appearance started to move.
Her reflected self was stopping, similar to her, however something was off-base. There was a frigidity in her eyes, a vacancy that Sophie didn’t perceive. The reflection shifted its head somewhat, as though concentrating on her. Sophie squinted, however the reflection didn’t. It grinned — no, it smiled — however the grin was not hers. It was a wound, pernicious articulation, and it sent a chill through her spine.
“W-what is this?” Sophie murmured to herself, ascending from the love seat.
The reflection imitated her development yet didn’t appear to coordinate. Its body was too firm, its stance off-base. It shifted its head once more, and this time, its smile augmented, extending unnaturally. Sophie made a stride back, heart hustling. Yet, the reflection didn’t move. It recently gazed, smiling.
Sophie’s breath got as she looked nearer. Behind her appearance, the room appeared… more obscure, shadowed. The furniture was off-base — disarranged, the walls broke. The reflection was not in her condo. It was in a spot that reflected her own however wound it into something wrong. Her appearance ventured forward, setting its hand against the glass.
Sophie froze. She didn’t move. Neither did her appearance — with the exception of its eyes. It locked onto hers, and at that time, she knew: it was anything but an impression of her by any means.
It was something different, something pernicious, something from an existence where everything was broken and destroyed.
Unexpectedly, the reflection’s hand squeezed more earnestly against the glass. Sophie could hear faint scratching commotions, similar to hooks against wood. Her own breath revived as she stepped back, her heartbeat crashing in her ears. She went to leave the room however felt an odd pulling sensation, like something was pulling her back.
A virus wind twirled around her, and she looked behind her. The reflection was currently outside the glass. It stood still, watching her, its eyes glimmering with vindictive aim.
Sophie staggered in reverse into the wall, her mind whirling. The breeze developed further, yelling through the room. The reflection smiled more extensive, and Sophie’s heart swayed as her general surroundings moved. She was unable to relax. The walls shut in. She went after the entryway, however it forcefully closed as though something had locked it from the opposite side.
Then, everything went dark.
At the point when Sophie woke, she was lying before the mirror. She flickered and sat up, her mind whirling. The room hushed up — excessively tranquil. Gradually, she investigated the glass.
She was right there. Yet, it wasn’t her. Her appearance was standing very much like previously, gazing back at her with those cool, void eyes. Just this time, the reflection wasn’t smiling. It was scowling, and its demeanor appeared… natural.
Sophie’s heart sank as she understood reality. It wasn’t simply showing her a reflection from a different universe. It was showing her what she was going to turn into. The more obscure rendition of herself, the one that would ultimately lose all expectation, lose all light.
What’s more, it was hanging tight for her.
Sophie’s breath got as she connected toward the mirror. Be that as it may, as her fingers brushed the glass, the reflection reflected her developments — with the exception of it didn’t stop. Her hand was gradually being maneuvered into the mirror, her arm sinking into the cool, dim surface, as though something was hauling her in. She shouted, yet no sound came.
Her appearance’s mouth opened. It murmured single word, a last admonition.
“Welcome.”
And afterward, Sophie was gone.
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