Infinity Mirror by Flavor Sterlot
Another Twisted Short Tale
On a certain Thursday morning in October, I discovered something unusual as I was standing at the sink. A swift, unaccountable motion caught my attention in the mirror as I was shaving. More specifically, the movement came from something reflected behind me. Although I was alone in my apartment, I paused and leaned forward. I noticed the vintage mirror in the reflection, which was at the foot of the large bed. The slightly upward angle showed the overhead light in my bedroom. I turned around, staring at the old mirror, then shrugged, deciding that the movement effect must be a pure illusion.
Maybe the light flickered.
When I finished shaving, I stepped into the bedroom. Passing by the mirror, I felt the hairs on my neck rise and I stopped again. A closer inspection showed me the big bathroom mirror through the doorways. Yet, the effect caught me off-guard. It looked exactly like staring at an endless, though diminishing, corridor.
Interesting infinity mirror effect!
As I gazed at the vintage piece, I chuckled to myself for getting the heebie-jeebies from a mirror made in the 50s. Angie found the piece covered with dust in an outbuilding at a dusty shop called Ganna’s. The vintage glass had a sticker on the back from a company we never heard of. My girlfriend claimed her research on the Internet found nothing about the odd style of mirror or the company.
I guess that’s why she got it for a song.
Still, I didn’t like the mirror’s location, still half covered in dust and abandoned at the foot of our bed. You could say Angie’s attention span didn’t last long after her initial impulsive purchases. She told me about her big plans for the mirror as I helped haul it out to her Mercedes. Of course, I smiled like an idiot since keeping her happy kept my life comfortable.
After getting out my clothing from the walk-in closet where I had a tiny corner for my storage, I looked over at her curves, barely hidden under the silk sheets. Angie had her back to me, peacefully sleeping even after all the noise I made. My morning routine seldom bothered her since she liked to stay up late for her show. A frown came to my face, but I shrugged and quickly got dressed. Then, as quietly as possible, I picked up the mirror and hauled it to the hallway.
Angie finally decided last night after her show, and she wanted the mirror near her desk. I thought the idea was dumb since her huge, but messy, desk was an old Victorian piece made of dark walnut. On the other hand, the oval mirror I sat down on the gray tile floor looked from the 50s. I think they called it mid-century modern. Looking into the reflection, I could see Angie’s leather couch next to the hallway off to one side. Her HD camera stood on a stand, connected to her gamer PC with the HDMI cable. I knew this since I worked with the camera, at times, and Angie complained about better shots coming from one of her rival’s shows.
It took little to figure out what she was doing. She wanted to show off her backside to the camera. The soft pink devices laying on the couch explained the purpose of her show. It was one reason we had the money to live in an expensive townhouse overlooking Boulder was her soft porn routine. Every night, Angie acted out her sex fantasies on a livestream with several thousand idiots paying to watch.
It wasn’t like I cared much. She got off on it for a couple of reasons. First, it pissed off her wealthy family. Not that they could do much. Angie’s a trust fund kid, so as long as I played the adorable beta male, I got regular sex while dressing in the best clothes and driving an expensive car. Second, her show gave her occasional hookups with porn stars she’s met. Hell, I didn’t care about that if I didn’t get a disease from it. After all, it left me time for my other girlfriends. Life is sweet among the wealthy, bored brats once you get inside their clique.
When I returned in the late afternoon, Angie was out of bed. Dressed in her sweats and tight t-shirt, she sat on her couch in the middle of the messy living room. The woman just finished working out with her dumbbell set. That’s why she looked hot, even with her blond bed-hair still showing along with a dash of sweat. I walked over and kissed her cheek.
“Thank you for moving my mirror,” she said before gulping down water from her bottle.
“That’s going to be a perfect spot.”
A smile came to her face as she walked over to her desk. Her cellphone was ringing with some rap song. She used the tune for her theme song on her show. I walked into the kitchen and listened to her brief conversation while getting a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge. Her sudden muffled voice told me one of her boyfriends was looking for some time.
Seriously girl, I don’t really care!
I got into her clique with my looks and the fact I could sell ice to an Eskimo. But it was a means to an end. Certainly nothing about love. I heard Angie say goodbye, and I started for the stairs.
“Rob, come in here. Hurry!”
With a scowl, I turned back to the living room, where I found her staring at the mirror.
“Something moved in there,” she said, pointing at the reflection.
The bad vibe I got earlier came back when I walked by that thing as I stepped next to her. Looking into the mirror, I saw us staring at our reflections. We both had a spooked expression, but I expected it. As I stood there, nothing moved.
“I swear, I thought I saw something right here,” she went to the silvered glass and pointed at a spot.
Angie crouched down to inspect the glass closer. From my angle, the spot showed the door leading to the basement. The door was closed, and I frowned. Certainly nothing appeared wrong about a closed door in the reflection. Turning to look over at the door by the stairs, I saw nothing out of order. I came over to look at the spot closer and felt my skin crawl.
Obviously, I’m spooking myself, I thought as I shook my head.
“You know, I think it’s something inside the backing. I thought I noticed an infinity mirror when I walked past it this morning.”
“What’s that?” She stood up.
“Oh, it’s one of those optical effect mirrors that has lights in it which seem to sink into the back, making it look like it’s going on forever. Kind of like looking into the abyss, I suppose.”
Angie frowned.
“That’s not what I saw. It was more like a movement.”
“OOOWOOO, we have ghosts,” I said in a spooky voice while raising my arms dramatically.
She glared at me, and I smirked while dropping my act.
“Listen, babe. It’s just an optical effect. Kind of like seeing something out of the corner of your eye. Spirits aren’t real, so there’s nothing to be afraid of. Hell, you’ve got a new house, so no creepy vibes here unless we imagine it.”
I felt a buzz coming from my cell phone and pulled it from my pocket. Glancing down at a familiar number showing on the screen, I continued.
“Anyway, you need to shower, and I need to get dinner for you if you’re doing your show tonight. As a bonus, I’ll get your camera ready.”
Her face brightened when I reminded her about her pastime, which she considered a career. Angie came close and grabbed my belt.
“Why don’t you join me? We have plenty of time.”
Despite my need to follow up on the missed call on my phone, I agreed. Keeping my sugar momma happy is always my priority.
~~~
Over the next week, Angie told me about a few strange occurrences when she worked out in front of the mirror. Nothing frightening, she insisted, just strange. Just to double-check, I promised to look at several days of her streaming and I noticed nothing in the video.
A review of the chats coming from those idiots wasting their money to watch her revealed nothing either. Well, it’s not like they were looking at the mirror’s reflection. When I told Angie of my investigation, she frowned, then shrugged.
“Must be my imagination,” she replied uncertainly.
A couple of days later, I arrived home. Angie didn’t respond when I called out, which I thought odd since her car was in the driveway. But I figured someone dropped by and picked her up. That was until I passed her desk. Her cell phone was sitting on top of her desk.
She never leaves without that thing!
Calling out to the next floor, I waited, but there was no reply. I went up, but there was no one around. With a frown, I went down to the main level and opened the basement door.
“Angie, are you down there?”
After finding the area empty, I got nervous. Then it came to me.
A boyfriend showed up!
Sure, she just took off without her phone, I thought. When I got back upstairs, curiosity struck me, and I pulled out my tablet. Our house had a video on the front door and the living room as part of the security system.
Well, let’s see who your latest Romeo is.
Seriously, I’m not jealous. However, I have to protect my interests here, can’t have a rival push me out of the way. I pulled up the app and ran back the video feed from the front door. Then I cocked my head when I saw nobody coming to the front door after I left that morning.
Strange! Maybe a neighbor from the backyard?
Well, you can’t get past the living room, I decided with a grin. So, I brought up the video log from inside the house.
The tablet display showed me leaving the house, and about an hour later, Angie came down the stairs. She went to her desk while tapping away on her phone before setting the phone down where I found it. After checking the PC on the desk for a few minutes, she got up and did a few stretches in front of the mirror.
Angie turned away and picked up her dumbbells, then started her exercise routine. I watched it for a while, trying to figure out how to fast forward the video in the app. Then, I looked up, and she was gone from the screen.
“Crap, did I miss it?” I mumbled while using the cursor to move the bar back.
When I replayed the video, my eyes homed in on Angie. Unconsciously, I leaned forward. My girlfriend did a couple of curls, then she turned around like she heard something behind her. There’s no audio, so I couldn’t be sure. Still, her reaction showed me something caught her attention.
In the video, Angie initially backed up, while dropping the dumbbell. She glanced around, then sat the other weight down on the floor. I watched with growing interest as she appeared to call out to someone, looking upstairs. A moment later, she slowly took a step toward the mirror. Angie leaned sideways, getting another angle of the mirror before carefully lifting her hand and reaching out to touch the glass.
Then she disappeared.
“What the fuck!” My voice croaked out while hitting an octave higher.
Several rewinds later and slowing down as much as the software allowed, I saw Angie jerked inside the mirror. Well, nobody’s going to believe it, but my view definitely showed something coming out just as she vanished.
The chills going down my back weren’t coming from the air conditioning. Disbelief turned into shock, and eventually, I got up from the chair. Stepping over closer to the mirror, I carefully moved around side-to-side until I noticed something strange in the reflection.
In one particular spot, intricate patterns in the glass seemed to converge like a bundle of strings held together and stretching outwards. Gradually, I got up enough never to move closer. But the angle changed. I could no longer see the strange spot. It only appeared at certain angles.
Then, I discovered a part of the mirror didn’t even reflect anything at all. I continued staring as my brain scrambled for a logical explanation. As I glanced away, I saw some sort of movement. I twisted my neck back and finally, at a specific angle, the pattern thing once again caught my eye. The subtle motion was now clear and certain — like a spiral or a whirlwind, just on a smaller scale. With a little imagination, it looked like a tiny tornado or a cluster of fall leaves twirling in an eddy of wind on a flat lawn. While I stared, I realized the movements combined — one rotating around and around, while the other spiraled inward towards a point inside the glass.
“Holy crap!”
The words escaped, and I stepped back while taking deep breaths. Alarm bells rang out in my mind as I considered my options. I’m in a bind. Angie controls everything. I have access to some things like my credit card, but she’s the breadwinner. Worse, if I put in a missing person report on her, I’m the immediate prime suspect. Who the hell’s going to believe she disappeared in a mirror? I’ve seen the shows. Any freaking DA can get a grand jury to string me up on charges, even without a body. Don’t even get me started on justice. That’s only for those with money and connections in the USA. I’ve got nothing like that.
I’m so screwed!
My initial urge to look for plane tickets to Mexico immediately stopped when I knew I couldn’t survive long on a credit card. Stumbling back to the chair, I slid my fingers through my hair over and over until a desperate thought came to me.
Can I get her back?
Despite the ridiculous notion, I’m thinking logically here. If I accept the premise she went into the mirror, then it’s probably haunted, or cursed, or something along those lines. That doesn’t mean it’s one way. Yeah, it’s freaking crazy, but I’m out of options here. I can’t wait around in the hope she comes back or I’m just seeing things.
Going into the kitchen, I pulled out a bottle of beer. I flipped the lid on the counter after opening it and downed half the bottle in a couple of gulps. Walking back into the room, I made a wide arc around the mirror and moved the desk chair to the spot where I found the strange anomaly.
I sat there, adjusting my position until I found the intricate patterns again. Then I considered various plans to find out more about this cursed glass in front of me. By the time I finished the bottle, the vague outline of my next steps came together. I stared at the spot for another twenty minutes, but nothing appeared beyond the spiderweb effect as I called it.