Marcus soon settled into a routine. He found a job at a mid-sized marketing firm downtown - nothing glamorous, but it paid well and gave him a sense of normalcy. The house, with its creaking walls and haunting mirror, began to feel a little less suffocating when his days were filled with meetings, campaigns, and casual office banter.
Among his coworkers, one stood out - Elise. Sharp, witty, and effortlessly kind, she had a calm energy that cut through the static always buzzing in Marcus's mind. Their conversations started over shared coffee breaks and after-hours brainstorming, but quickly became something deeper. He found himself laughing more when she was around, smiling without realizing it. She made things feel... lighter.
One night, during a heavy storm that flooded her street, Marcus offered her a place to stay. She hesitated for a moment, but eventually agreed with a grateful smile.
Having her in the house changed everything. Her laughter echoed in the kitchen. She filled the living room with music. There were nights they stayed up talking on the couch, sipping wine and losing track of time. For a while, Marcus began to believe that he was healing. That maybe this was what moving forward looked like.
But the mirror disagreed.
It stayed where he had first found it, hanging in that dim room, untouched. Yet it was always in his mind. Sometimes he'd catch a glimpse of it while passing by and see a shadow flicker just behind his reflection. Other times, he swore it was facing a different direction than before.
One evening, after Elise had gone to bed, Marcus wandered into the room. Something pulled him there. Maybe curiosity. Maybe dread.
The mirror greeted him in silence.
He looked into it and froze.
His reflection was not the man he thought he'd become. The figure staring back was thinner, tired, hollow-eyed. There was a weight in his gaze a sadness so deep it felt bottomless. Marcus stepped closer. The eyes in the mirror didn't follow. They stared slightly to the side, unfocused, as though they were remembering something long gone. And then the expression changed-just subtly. Grief. Loss.
Marcus stumbled back, chest tight.
"No," he whispered. "I'm happy now. I have a life."
But the reflection didn't agree. It looked as though it was about to cry.
That night, Marcus couldn't sleep. He lay awake, listening to Elise's breathing down the hall. His thoughts twisted, fractured. Was any of this real? He tried to remember the first day of his job - who interviewed him? What was the office layout? He remembered Elise, but everything else came in pieces.
He got up again, drawn to the mirror like a moth to a flame.
This time, he didn't see himself at all.
He saw Elise.
She stood in the hallway in the mirror's reflection, staring at him with an expression he'd never seen on her face - blank, almost fearful. And behind her, the house was dark, crumbling. The walls were smeared with what looked like handprints. Her mouth moved, but no sound came.
Marcus spun around.
The hallway was empty.
His skin crawled. Something was terribly wrong.
But when he looked back at the mirror, it was just his reflection again-this time wearing an expression of heartbreak.
The months passed like a storm behind fogged glass.
Marcus stopped going to work. He stopped answering Elise's messages. She moved out eventually-quietly, without confrontation-after finding him staring at the mirror one night, mumbling to someone who wasn't there. He hadn't noticed her leave. He barely noticed the days anymore.
The house, once filled with light and laughter, now drowned in silence. Curtains stayed shut. Dishes piled up. The mirror remained exactly where it always was, a silent sentinel in the shadows.
Marcus no longer feared it.
He spoke to it.
Sometimes it answered.
"Why? Why did you do that to me?"
The voice came not with sound but with presence-an echo in his chest, a whisper in his bones. The man in the mirror no longer mimicked his movements. It had become something else entirely-something other. It grinned when Marcus wept. It watched as he tore pages from books, screamed into empty rooms, scratched at the walls.
He tried to destroy it once. Smashed a chair into the glass. It didn't break.