Chapter 2: Through the Looking Glass
910 Words
**Chapter 2: Through the Looking Glass**
Aryan couldn’t sleep that night.
Back at his motel, the image of the girl in the mirror haunted him. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face—frightened, pleading silently from the other side of the glass. He tried to convince himself it was fatigue, a mind tricked by old ghost stories and stress. But he had seen her. He had seen **Anika Mehra**. And she wasn’t gone—she was **trapped**.
The mirror wasn’t a reflection.
It was a **barrier**.
Or maybe… a **door**.
He sat on the bed, flipping through the scanned floor plans of Hotel Miraya on his laptop. Again, no mention of **Room 13B**. In the official architecture records, there was no such room in the building.
And yet, it existed.
And inside that room was a girl the world believed had vanished forever.
---
The next morning, Aryan returned to the hotel. The rain had stopped, but clouds still loomed low, blanketing the hills like silent watchers. He carried with him a bag of equipment—infrared sensors, an audio recorder, and a portable EMF reader.
He wasn’t taking chances.
As he reached the first floor, the hallway seemed longer than before. More twisted. Room numbers had shifted subtly. A painting he hadn’t seen yesterday now hung near Room 12, its image obscured by black streaks as though someone had tried to burn it with acid.
He found Room 13B again.
The door was slightly open.
He hadn’t left it that way.
He pushed it wider and stepped inside. The air inside was colder than it should have been. Stale, dense. The mirror stood where it was the day before—but this time, the **reflection was different**.
The room in the reflection looked… cleaner. More alive. The wallpaper was intact. The bed looked recently made. And then—just for a second—**someone walked past** in the reflection.
Aryan’s blood ran cold.
No one was with him in the real room.
He slowly approached the mirror. His own reflection returned. But the air around it felt charged—like the buzz before a thunderstorm.
He reached out and touched the surface.
It was **warm**.
Suddenly, the mirror shimmered, as though it were made of liquid. A pulse of blue light ran across it.
Then—he was pulled forward.
---
He stumbled.
And found himself standing in a **mirror version** of Room 13B.
The furniture was newer. The smell of lavender lingered. A candle on the desk burned slowly, casting strange shadows.
The window showed nothing but endless gray fog.
He turned to leave—but the door behind him had vanished.
There was no way back.
Aryan’s pulse quickened.
What was this place?
He heard a faint whisper.
“Aryan…”
It was her voice.
Anika.
He followed the sound, moving through the mirror-space hotel. Everything looked familiar yet wrong. The corridors curved strangely, turning in impossible angles. Doors appeared, vanished. Walls whispered.
From one mirror, he saw a reflection of Anika—curled into a ball, trapped in a dark room. She was crying, whispering something again and again.
He leaned in.
Her voice came through faint and distant, as if underwater.
“Help… please… he’s watching…”
He turned to look behind him—but no one was there.
---
Aryan pressed his hand against the mirror again. “Anika! Can you hear me?!”
She looked up.
For a second, their eyes met. Her lips moved.
**“Don’t trust the reflection.”**
And then the mirror cracked—splitting her image down the middle.
Everything went dark.
---
He awoke in the real Room 13B, gasping.
The mirror was intact again.
But something had changed.
Scrawled across the wall, written in what looked like ash or coal, were the words:
**"FIND RIA."**
---
That name again.
Ria.
He returned to town and dug through old newspaper archives. There it was: **Ria Sen**, a journalist who had gone missing in 1998 while investigating local hauntings.
Last seen at Hotel Miraya.
Aryan found a photograph in the report. Sharp eyes. Confident smile.
He returned to the hotel that night, driven by a terrible urgency.
This time, he brought salt, a mirror cloth, and a small first aid kit. He didn’t know what rules applied in this world behind the mirror—but he was determined to find both girls.
Back inside Room 13B, he spoke aloud:
“Ria. Anika. I know you’re here. Tell me how to help.”
The mirror shimmered.
And two figures appeared—Anika and Ria. Both standing side by side. Both pale. Both silent.
Then Ria stepped forward and pointed toward the wall.
A small door—barely visible—emerged from the wallpaper.
Aryan opened it.
Inside was a narrow crawlspace.
He crawled through, heart racing.
---
On the other side, he entered a room with mirrors covering **all four walls**. Each mirror reflected something different—an orphanage, a hospital, a dark tunnel, a child crying, a room on fire.
And at the center stood a tall figure.
Wearing a white mask.
Unmoving.
Watching.
The figure raised one long finger and pointed at Aryan.
Then all the mirrors shattered.
Aryan screamed, covering his ears.
When he opened his eyes, he was alone.
Back in Room 13B.
The mirror was gone.
But he could still hear her voice…
“Don’t trust the reflection.”
- Writer
