The Reflection of Piper Chastidy

The mirror was empty as the boy stared into it, open-mouthed. His reflection did not stare back. His reflection was not there at all. The mirror reflected only the tiled bathroom wall behind him, and there was no possible way that he was too tired to see himself, nor that he was not quite in line with the mirror's image.

His reflection was not there.

Confused, the boy reached out and touched the glass, drawing his hand back with a gasp. Beneath his touch, the mirror rippled. The mirror was no longer glass at all. The boy's brow furrowed as his mind struggled to grasp the reality of the situation. In the end, his curiosity got the best of him.

Slowly, hesitantly, the boy reached out and touched the mirror once more.

The ripples were still there.

And so, the boy went further, and found himself reaching through the glass entirely, his forearm beyond the mirror's other side. Cautiously, he felt around with his hand, and it came in contact with a cold, hard surface. He felt around some more, and realized he was touching a sink, much like the one before him in his own bathroom. He drew his hand back.

This time, the boy climbed onto the sink before him, and leant his head and torso through the mirror. His gaze swept the room on the other side, his eyes wide. It was a bathroom just like his own – an exact replica, down to even the brand of shampoo he used, the bottle sitting on the floor of the shower cubicle. The boy pushed himself the last little bit through the mirror, landing with a thud on the tiles of the familiar yet alien bathroom beyond the glass. He took a deep breath, then turned to face the mirror he had just come through.

His reflection was not there.

Then, the room around him flickered – and disappeared. He was no longer standing in an exact replica of his own bathroom. He was surrounded by plain, concrete walls, a large, plain mirror, and what seemed to be a control panel beside it. He was about to investigate the controls when the steel door of the room slammed open.

Ghastly creatures filled the room, their breathing heavy. Their skin had a pale blue hue, their sunken eyes entirely black. They each had long, thin white hair that hung to their waists. Their teeth and claws were impossibly pointed, and were likely impossibly sharp.

The boy couldn't breathe. The boy couldn't move. And the creatures' faces lit up in sly smiles.

"Finally," the one closest to him sneered, "we have found you, Seventh Son. You can hinder us no longer."

The boy blinked, lost for words. "I... But I'm an only child!" He found himself saying. Behind his back, however, he was reaching towards the mirror, hoping the creatures didn't notice.

The creatures laughed, a deep, throaty sound that was almost more horrific than their appearance. "You can't fool us any longer, either." Their leader said.

Behind his back, the boy's fingers found the cool, hard glass of the mirror. His stomach dropped. Wide-eyed, the boy span around, no longer concerned with the creatures. Instead, he raked his fingers down the surface of the mirror to make sure he was not mistaken. The mirror was still solid.

No ripples.

No escape.

His breath came in gasps, and he found himself punching the mirror, willing it to let him back through.

Then his reflection was there.

"Forgive me." His reflection mouthed, then turned his back on the boy and walked away.

The boy was still pounding on the cold, hard glass of the mirror as the creatures descended on him. But no matter how hard he tried, he was met with resistance.

Solid glass.

No ripples.

No escape.