Blood on the Mirror
787 Words
📖 Chapter 2: Blood on the Mirror
Daniel stared at his fingers.
They were wet.
Red.
Sticky.
His heart pounded so loudly it drowned out everything else.
“Is it... mine?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Saim leaned in, eyes wide with panic. “You’re not hurt. There’s no wound. But... Daniel, how the hell is there blood?”
Daniel looked into the rearview mirror.
Behind them — nothing.
Just shadows.
He wiped his neck, hands trembling.
“We’re leaving. Now.”
He turned the key.
The car didn’t start.
“Come on, come on...” He tried again. Nothing.
Saim started to shake. She grabbed her phone.
“No signal,” she murmured, holding it high, moving it around. “Still nothing.”
Suddenly, the radio crackled — just static — then a whisper.
> "...wrong way... turn back..."
Both of them froze.
“Did you hear that?” she asked.
Daniel nodded slowly.
But before he could speak, a loud thud hit the car’s roof.
BAM.
Then again.
BAM.
They ducked. Saim screamed. Daniel reached for the glove box — flashlight.
He flicked it on and aimed it upward through the windshield.
Something moved — something fast and low and crawling. Then it vanished into the forest.
Daniel flung open the door.
“Daniel, no!” Saim cried.
But he stepped out anyway. He had to see it. Had to prove they weren’t crazy.
The forest was colder now. Dead silent.
He circled the car with the flashlight, breath fogging in the air.
No blood. No creature. No marks on the roof.
Just one thing...
A small mirror, hanging from a branch near the road — swinging slowly.
He walked toward it.
The flashlight caught his reflection, but...
His face looked different.
Sunken eyes. Pale skin. Black veins crawling along his jawline. And behind him — Saim.
But not Saim.
Her eyes were black, her mouth wide open, her head twisted unnaturally to the side.
He turned around —
Saim was in the car, safe, staring at him.
He looked back at the mirror.
Now, it only showed his normal reflection.
“What is this place?” he whispered.
Back in the car, Saim was crying softly.
He climbed back in. “We need to walk. The car’s dead. The GPS is fried.”
Saim hesitated. “We don’t even know which way.”
Daniel took her hand. “Anywhere but here.”
They started down the road, flashlights in hand, Daniel leading, Saim behind.
The fog thickened. Trees bent low. Whispers seemed to float through the air — not voices, but sounds that almost made sense.
Every few minutes, Saim would flinch.
“Did you hear that?”
A child laughing.
A woman crying.
Leaves rustling without wind.
After thirty minutes of walking, they saw it.
A cabin.
Old. Wooden. Half-collapsed.
But real.
And the light was on.
Saim hesitated. “It could be a trap.”
“Or help,” Daniel replied.
They walked to the door and knocked.
No answer.
Daniel pushed it open slowly. It creaked — the kind of creak you feel in your spine.
Inside, it was warm.
A fire was lit.
Food on the table.
Two plates.
Two glasses.
And a mirror on the wall. The same kind.
Saim’s hands gripped Daniel’s arm.
“Daniel... this is our food. From earlier. At the hotel.”
He looked. She was right. Same pasta. Same wine.
“Impossible,” he muttered.
A noise upstairs.
A floorboard creaked.
Daniel moved toward the stairs.
“Don’t,” Saim begged. “We should leave.”
“I need to know,” he said.
He crept up, every step groaning under his weight.
Saim stayed below, flashlight shaking in her hand.
At the top of the stairs was a door. Half-open.
Daniel pushed it.
Inside was a bedroom. Dusty. Empty —
No, not empty.
A photo on the wall.
Of them.
Daniel and Saim.
Together.
But older. Aged. Tired. Dead-eyed.
“How the—” he gasped.
Then he saw it.
On the bed.
Two bodies. Covered in a sheet.
He pulled the sheet back.
It was them.
Their corpses.
Saim screamed downstairs.
He ran down, heart hammering.
She pointed to the mirror. “Look!”
In the mirror, they were both... different.
Pale. Eyes black. Mouths stitched shut.
Behind them stood the figure — tall, eyeless, arms too long.
And then it spoke.
> “You came too far. Now you stay.”
---
They turned — no one there.
But outside, the forest had changed.
It wasn’t a road anymore.
It was grave markers. Dozens. Hundreds.
All with the same names.
Daniel & Saim.
---
⚠️ TO BE CONTINUED...
- Writer
