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Flickering image

Short story By: mpspenguin
Horror


When Chris goes on holiday to an eerie house, a mirror in his room slowly takes him over...


Submitted:Oct 5, 2011    Reads: 35    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   


Chris pushed the battered wooden door open with a gloved hand, stepping into the warmth. As it shut softly behind him, he studied his surroundings.

The hall in which he stood contained nothing but a pool table and a spiral staircase leading upstairs.Chris dumped his coat andgloves on the floor, stretching his aching arms and pacing into the living room.

There was a red sofa, several chairs and checkered curtains. A TV stood in the corner on a table. He pressed the on button, but it just flickered and went to static. Chris sighed, turning it off and leaving the room.

He glanced into the kitchen, seeing nothing but a few drawers, a stove and a table- nothing particularly interesting. Chris jogged up the stairs two steps at a time, and flicked on the lights. As the hallway lit up, he checked out the possible candidates for his bedroom.

There were three bedrooms, all containing identicaldouble beds with crisp white sheets and an en suite bathroom. Chris chose the one closest to the staircase, purely for practicality.

He emptied his suitcase into the cupboard messily, only taking out a pair of well worn pyjamas. Chris yawned, checking his watch. It was past eleven, and he'd been travelling all day.

He quickly brushed his teeth and went to the toilet, then changed into his pyjamas. As he padded back into his bedroom, he saw a mirror hanging on the left wall. It had a plain, wooden frame that looked a severe victim to decay. AsChris checked his hair, combing his fringe with his fingers, he saw something flicker in the corner of the mirror. Something distorted, but definitely there. However, when he tried to focus on the image, it disappeared.

Chris glanced over his shoulder, and when seeing nothing, looked back to the mirror. He tried averting his eyes from the corner, hoping to trick the image back into vision, but saw nothing.

Chris shrugged. A mere trick of the light, or maybe the curtain moving. Whatever it was, he retired to bed untroubled, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

He woke to a cool, gentle breeze wafting from his open window, and the dappled sunlight on his face. He yawned silently, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. It took Chris a few moments to remember where he was.

He got out of the squidgy double bed, got dressed and walked towards his door. As he went passed the mirror, he stopped in his tracks, and looked into the glass. Chris pulled up his tie, and again saw a strange, flicker at the edge of the mirror. He jumped, swivelling round and looking around the room. After checking every square inch and staring suspiciously back into the mirror, he went slowly downstairs, glancing anxiously over his shoulder every few seconds.

Once he was down in the kitchen, Chris convinced himself that he'd seen it from tiredness, or a fever. If it went on, he'd see a doctor. Yes- he'd heard of people with much more severe mental issues being cured.

Putting these thoughts aside, Chris opened the fridge to see what had been left. There was a bottle of full fat milk, a half finished packet of eggs and a tub of margerine. He checked the labels, and was glad to find them all in date. There was also a loaf of sliced bread on the cabinet.

He turned on the stove, and fumbled around in the cabinets until he found a frying pan. Chris left it to heat, and got a plate and cutlery ready on the table. The whole room was new to him, and it was akward finding the right things. He loaded a knife with margerine, and dabbed it on the frying pan. It made a satisfying sizzle as it melted into a pale yellow liquid.

Chris the remaining two eggs and cracked them onto the pan. He made a bit of a mess of the omlette, but after he'd slid it onto his plate and taken a few bites, he found it tasted ok.

After he'd finished, he tipped the dirty plates and pan into the sink, and decided to go outside and see what the village was like and meet his neighbours. After all, he'd be living here for the next nine months.

Chris strolled back up the stairs, entered his room and pulled on his boots, still a little wary of the mirror. As he went to leave the room, however, his curiosity got the better of him, and he found himself standing in front of it.

Again, he saw the strange image, just out of sight, but so close. However, this time Chris wasn't surprised, or scared. If anything he was intrigued as the image changed its position with a flicker. He felt pulled towards it.

The image appeared in the middle of the mirror; Chris tried to look at it, but it was impossible to focus on.

Then, with surprising speed, it jerked out of the frame and towards Chris. He felt it hit him both behind and in front.

Chris examined his reflection in the mirror. He looked so different, and yet excactly the same. He could feel this new being inside him, jerking around his body.

He welcomed it. He wanted it.This new sense of strength and power.

Chris smiled as he gazed into the unfound depths of the mirror.





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