How I got a job at a vampire antiquities shop

Chapter 2.

Having just survived a nightmarish experience in the mirror world, I stood in the shop with my little sister in my arms, looking at the ghost. She had fallen asleep on the way here, and I carefully took her to the back room, laying her down on a couch and covering her with a blanket. Her face, peaceful and serene, made me smile through my exhaustion. When she wakes up, I must reassure her that everything she saw was just a nightmare.

Returning to the counter, I found that the ghost had begun telling his story. His face was twisted with anxiety, and his eyes seemed to look through time. He said that someone had stolen his memory stone, causing him to forget his past. He had awakened in an old castle, surrounded by cold walls and emptiness, not knowing what to do. A hazy figure from his blurred memories advised him to come to this shop.

Mr. Mortimer listened silently and then nodded as if understanding something. He then said we would help. The ghost, delighted by these words, began showing us the way to uncover the mystery. However, to be honest, I was on the verge of exhaustion. The recent events in the mirror world had left me utterly drained.

Mr. Mortimer, as if reading my thoughts, noticed my fatigue and gently told me to go home and rest with my sister, returning tomorrow. His words were like balm to my soul. I nodded, thanked him for his understanding, and headed home, holding my sister and feeling her quiet breathing.

The next day, I left my sister with my aunt and headed to work. When I arrived at the shop, Mr. Mortimer was sitting at the counter reading a book, as usual, oblivious to his surroundings. The ghost was hovering beside him. I greeted them and said I was ready to work, but I had a question—how could I look after my sister and work simultaneously? Mr. Mortimer, not lifting his eyes from the book, said that it was a solvable problem.

He went to the shelf, moved a few items aside, and pulled out a mask. The mask was ancient and strange, covered with intricate patterns reminiscent of engravings on old artifacts. He handed it to me and suggested I put it on. I examined it, trying to recall from the catalog if I had seen anything like it before, but such a mask was unfamiliar. Curiosity overcame caution, and I put it on.

The moment the mask touched my face, it seemed to come alive. I felt it express various emotions—joy, anger, fear. I felt uneasy. The desire to tear it off grew stronger, but suddenly the mask flew off my face and started floating in the air, swaying from side to side. It spun, and a body began to materialize in its place. I watched as my exact copy appeared before me.

After all the recent experiences, I was not easily surprised, but I was still shocked. The clone mimicked my every move and spoke in my voice. I reached out and touched him—he was completely tangible. It was a strange feeling to see myself from the outside. I studied my eyes, my nose, which seemed a bit small to me.

Suddenly, my clone began to dance like a fool and smirk sarcastically. I thought, "Is that how I look when I laugh? It looks awful."

Mr. Mortimer looked at me with a slight smile and said:

— Now he can watch over your sister and do your household chores, replacing you. So you don't have to worry. Don't worry, he's very responsible. I will personally keep an eye on him.

I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and astonishment. Then I asked:

— How will we get to the place, and what should I do there?

Mr. Mortimer put the book aside and said:

— You need a helper.

He opened a drawer on his desk and pulled out a skull, which clicked its jaw and began to speak:

— Greetings, master. How can I assist you?

Mr. Mortimer replied:

— Yorick, this time you will help our employee Michael with a task. The responsibility is all yours, understood?