Chapter 7: Breaking the Mirror
Chapter 7: Breaking the Mirror
The reflection stepped out of the mirror, its movements fluid and deliberate. Rick stumbled back, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat.
"What the hell are you?" he demanded, his voice shaking.
The reflection didn't answer. It just stood there, watching him with an expression that was both familiar and alien. Its eyes were cold, calculating, as if it knew something Rick didn't.
Rick's mind raced. He grabbed the nearest object—a desk lamp—and hurled it at the reflection.
The lamp passed through the figure like it was made of mist, crashing into the wall behind it.
The reflection smirked.
"You need to wake up," it said, its voice a perfect mimic of Rick's but laced with an eerie calm.
Before Rick could react, the reflection shattered into shards of glass, scattering across the floor. Then it was gone, leaving Rick standing alone in the room, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
---
Rick blinked—and suddenly it was morning.
He was in his bed, the sunlight streaming through the curtains. His heart was still racing, but the room was quiet, undisturbed.
"What…?" he muttered, sitting up.
He looked around. The lamp was back on his desk, intact. The mirror was whole again, reflecting nothing but his own bewildered face.
His phone was missing.
Rick scrambled out of bed, searching the room. He found the phone on the floor, its screen cracked. When he unlocked it, the text from the unknown number was gone.
"Did last night even happen?" he whispered, running a hand through his hair.
He checked his messages, his call history, his photos—nothing. No evidence of the reflection, the shattered mirror, or the eerie warning.
Was it all a dream?
---
Just as Rick was starting to doubt himself, his laptop screen flickered on by itself.
He froze, staring at the glowing screen. A text file appeared, its title bold and ominous:
**"Open Me."**
Rick hesitated, his finger hovering over the trackpad. Then, with a deep breath, he clicked on the file.
Inside was a list of names—passengers from the train. His eyes scanned the list, and his stomach dropped when he saw his own name.
**Rick Sharma** – DECEASED
**Rick Sharma** – PENDING
"What the hell?" he muttered, his voice trembling.
The names below his were marked similarly—some as "DECEASED," others as "PENDING." A few were marked "RESOLVED," whatever that meant.
Rick's mind raced. *Two versions of me? One dead, one… pending?*
He didn't have time to process it. His phone buzzed, startling him. It was Miki.
---
"Rick, didn't we already talk today?" Miki's voice was confused, almost frantic.
Rick frowned. "What are you talking about? I haven't spoken to you yet."
"No, we did," Miki insisted. "You came to the library. You told me… something important. I can't remember what, but I know it happened."
Rick's blood ran cold. "Miki, I swear, I haven't seen you today."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Then Miki whispered, "Rick, something's wrong. I feel like… like I'm losing my mind."
"Stay there," Rick said, grabbing his jacket. "I'm coming to find you."
He rushed out of his dorm, his mind spinning. When he reached the library, he froze.
There, standing by the entrance, was *himself*.
The other Rick—his doppelgänger—was talking to Miki, his gestures animated, his expression serious. Miki nodded, her face pale.
Rick's heart stopped. He wanted to call out, to run over and confront the figure, but his body wouldn't move.
Then the doppelgänger turned, making direct eye contact with Rick.
It smirked.
---
Before Rick could react, the world around him distorted. The library, the trees, the sky—everything twisted and warped, as if reality itself was unraveling.
Rick's vision blurred, and he felt himself falling, though his feet never left the ground.
Then everything went black.
---
To be continued...