Chapter 6 : The Reflection That Wasn’t His
Chapter 6: The Reflection That Wasn't His
Daniel couldn't move.
His reflection stood in the cracked mirror near the altar, watching him.
But it wasn't following his movements.
It was standing still.
The smile on its face was subtle—wrong. It wasn't a grin. It wasn't amusement. It was… something else.
Daniel's stomach twisted. His breath came shallow and slow.
This wasn't possible.
Mirrors didn't work like this.
And yet, there he was.
Or rather—there it was.
The wind outside howled, rattling the old chapel's wooden beams. A slow, almost rhythmic creaking filled the silence, like the building itself was breathing.
Daniel swallowed hard, forcing himself to take a step forward.
The reflection didn't move.
His pulse slammed against his ribs.
Another step.
Still nothing.
Then—
The reflection tilted its head slightly.
Not to match Daniel.
But as if it was studying him.
The Glass That Holds Secrets
Daniel exhaled slowly. His hands trembled at his sides.
This wasn't real.
It couldn't be.
He stepped closer, stopping just a foot from the mirror's surface. The reflection stood just as far away, but something about it… felt off.
The lighting was different. The shadows around its form were deeper. The eyes were just a little too dark.
Daniel's own face stared back at him, but it felt like he was looking at a version of himself that wasn't supposed to exist.
Lightning flashed. For a split second, the chapel was drenched in white light.
And in that moment—
Daniel's reflection blinked.
Once.
Slow.
But Daniel hadn't.
The Memory in the Mirror
A sharp pain lanced through his skull.
His vision blurred, static creeping into his mind like a dying radio signal.
Then—
A memory surfaced.
Not his.
Or maybe it was.
🔹 A dark corridor.
🔹 A figure standing before a mirror, whispering something he couldn't quite hear.
🔹 A blade reflecting in the glass.
🔹 A voice—his own—saying, "Erase it."
Daniel gasped, gripping the wooden frame of the mirror to steady himself.
The pain vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving him disoriented, shaken.
He squeezed his eyes shut. No. No.
That wasn't his memory.
Was it?
The Reflection That Moved on Its Own
When Daniel opened his eyes, his breath caught.
The reflection was closer.
It had stepped forward.
But Daniel hadn't moved.
His muscles locked. A sick, twisting dread coiled in his stomach.
The reflection's head tilted further, the faint smile still there.
Daniel wanted to step back.
But something inside him whispered—
"Don't turn away."
He didn't know why.
But he listened.
The reflection's lips moved.
Not a whisper.
Not a sound.
Just the shape of words, silent but deliberate.
Three words.
Daniel's pulse pounded as he watched, trying to understand—
And then he did.
The reflection had mouthed:
"You forgot me."
Daniel staggered back.
The mirror shattered.
The Shattered Past
Glass exploded outward, shards raining down on the wooden floor.
Daniel threw his arms up, shielding himself from the splintered pieces. The sound was deafening—a sharp, ringing break that echoed through the empty chapel.
And then—
Silence.
Daniel lowered his arms. His breath was ragged, uneven.
The mirror was gone.
All that remained was an empty wooden frame, splintered and cracked at the edges.
His reflection was gone.
A hollow weight settled in his chest. His hands trembled as he took a slow step back.
And that was when he saw it.
Something glinting in the broken glass on the floor.
A photograph.
The Face in the Photo
Daniel's fingers trembled as he reached down, plucking the small, crumpled photograph from the shattered remains.
He turned it over.
His breath stopped.
It was a picture of him.
But younger.
His face was sharper, his eyes colder. His hair was cropped shorter, and his posture was different. Rigid. Military-like.
And beside him—
A man.
A man with the same face as the corpse in the chapel.
Daniel's throat tightened. His mind raced.
He knew this man.
He had always known him.
But why…
Why couldn't he remember?