The Mirror, a dark romanticism short story

Let me just say, that I am loving my Humanities class! It has given me so many chances to exercise my creative writing skills, and for that I am grateful. For this assignment I had to write a dark romanticism short story and, let me tell you, it was a lot of fun. It was so fun, that I was able to sprout this out in just a day and a half, which is a record for me. And to top it all off, I'm relatively happy with the final product which also rarely happens. This story is quite a bit darker than what I normally read or write so I'm warning you now that it's very morbid. Also to clarify some rumors *coughdadcough* I was not on drugs while writing this. So with that in mind, please read and let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always appreciated!


The Mirror

Bleak clouds rolled threateningly across the sky above Lucas Madden’s new home as he watched the old owners galloping away in their haphazardly packed wagon. Lucas had no idea why the owners had been so eager to leave their home, nor why they had sold it at such a low price, but to be honest, Lucas didn’t really care. He was used to taking advantage of people, manipulating them when they were weak and vulnerable.

The house really was worth a lot more than what he paid for it. The owners had just been so desperate, so crazed with the need to be rid of their home, that it was almost too easy for Lucas to enjoy the deceit and exploitation that ensued. In fact, it’s a surprise that the owner’s didn’t give him money to take the house, but instead asked for just a fifth of the price. Lucas had, of course, easily dwindled that price down to a pathetically sad number and had the owner’s throw in their personal housekeeper to tie a nice big bow on the top.

Now Lucas explored the halls of his new abode and was proud, once again, that he was able to swindle his way into such a great prize. The previous owners had left all their furniture behind and consequently, every room was neat, pristine, and very high class – just what an aspiring attorney would want. But as he neared the end of a long, dimly lit hallway, Lucas came upon a door unlike the others; its paint was peeling off in some places and its handle was stiff with little use. The door swung open, groaning slightly like a man unused to the exercise of a normal day. Thick dust could be found on every possible surface, cobwebs were strung from corners and shelves and candle sticks sat tall on the table, their wicks never been lit.

But Lucas saw none of this; his eyes had been drawn inexplicably toward the large oval mirror hung on the far wall. Its frame, made of dense metal, was an ornate design of several long snakes twisted and tangled together until it was impossible to tell which head belong to which tail. With a jolt, Lucas realized that he could not look away, his eyes trapped by the mirror and the reflection inside it. Beneath his unwilling gaze, the mirror began to come to life, the snakes slithering and gliding between each other, enjoying the freedom of movement. He could hear their low hisses, beckoning him to come closer and closer.

He stood in front of the mirror now, staring into his terrified eyes, as the image before him began to change. First his hair grew long and shaggy, a tangle heap upon his head. Then hair sprouted from every pore on his body, sharp claws shot out from where his hands used to be. Finally his faced morphed. His ears grew long and pointed and his nose extended into a violent snout with sharp teeth protruding, hungry for a soul to feed on. Lastly his eyes, when once were brown, now were an inhuman red, unforgiving and merciless.

The animal before Lucas was ugly and vicious, a complete savage beast with no sense of morality or intellect to hint that this monster was once a refined man. The beast howled loud and long, his version of a laugh, and then smiled, baring his teeth as if ready to bite. With a start, Lucas realized with a sure assurance that this grisly creature was him, a reflection of the beast within, the beast that he is and will become.

Just as quickly as the vision appeared, it was gone again, the snakes motionless once more and his reflection back to its normal self. It left Lucas gasping for breath, as if he had gone his whole life without ever breathing and was just now realizing he could. Despair fill his heart and he broke out into a cold sweat. Suddenly, he couldn’t stay there anymore, he had to get out. But not before he got rid of that horrid mirror.

He gripped the edges of the frame, careful to avoid looking directly into the mirror, and jerked it off the wall. Or at least, that’s what he tried to do. In actuality, the frame grew excruciatingly hot beneath his hands, and he screamed out in pain, quickly letting go. But it was too late. His palms, pulsating red, would forever be branded with a snake skin pattern.

He threw a nearby sheet over the mirror ignoring the searing pain the action induced, and ran from the room, not bothering to see if the sheet, too, would get burned. And run Lucas did – through the halls, out the open door, and into the woods fencing his home. He didn’t stop until he was at the top of the hill, winded and sweating, but not from the run. From his position, Lucas could clearly see the slanted roof, white paint, and the many windows reflecting sunlight of his home sitting peacefully amongst the trees. It held no hint of the horrors that lay within.
In truth, Lucas was a very rational man, and he could easily explain such inexplicable events to himself in forms of lies. And that’s just what he did until he had convinced himself that what he saw was merely a day dream, a trick of the light, anything to ease his mind. Finally, he built up enough courage to return home, thinking to himself that he would just go on with his daily life and forget all about that mirror and the horrors it held.

However it wasn’t that easy. The image of the beast, of himself, was burned into his mind, and he couldn’t shake it from memory. He began to avoid the hallway with the dreaded room altogether, but he couldn’t stop the shudder that traveled down his spine every time he thought of the dimly lit corridor. His thoughts soon were consumed with the images of that fateful day, and it became the only thing he could think about. At last, he couldn’t deny the pull he felt from the room. He knew he shouldn’t go back, shouldn’t want to go back, but he did. It was like his own personal drug. Finally, he persuaded himself, that he was just going to look to make sure that the sheet was still over the mirror, and then he could forget about it, for good this time. He wouldn’t even go into the room, just stand in the doorway.

His resolve lasted until his hand faltered above the copper door handle. An image of the beast rose again in his mind. Did he really want to do this? With a burst of determination, Lucas twisted the handle and forced the door open.

His eyes immediately were ensnared by the bare mirror, the sheet a pile of ashes on the floor. Trapped once more, the snakes came to life, hissing their welcome. This time the vision changed. Instead of seeing the beast within, he watched himself grow old. The changes were subtle at first – wrinkles around the eyes, thinning of the hair. Then they became more prominent as his brow furrowed permanently with long wrinkles, his cheeks sagged and sunken in and his jet black hair turned a startling white. But the mirror was not finished with Lucas yet. His image continued to age past his death, and Lucas found himself watching his body decay before his very eyes! First, his body bloated and his skin took on a fragile sheen, as if one touch would shatter his face. Soon, creatures of all sorts began eating away at his flesh. Rats gnawed at his fingers and arms while maggots nibbled away at his face bit by bit. Eventually only a spindly skeleton remained, but not for long. It quickly crumbled to dust, blown away by an invisible wind, and leaving only a reflection of an empty room.

The mirror released him then and, startled, Lucas found himself within arm’s reach of it, having no memory of entering the room farther than the door. But his surprise lasted but a moment, as he felt an emotion he couldn’t name bottle up inside him, the pressure steadily growing. With a maniacal laugh he realized what it was – anger. He was angry, no livid, at the mirror for showing him these things, the things he fears most in life. Suddenly, the pressure broke and his fury burst forth like a dam breaking. He picked up a golden candlestick and swung it with all his strength at the mirror. It shattered, splintering into a thousand lines like a spider web. Lucas raised his hand again, poised to strike, but faltered as he saw his reflection, broken and damaged. His eyes were bright and crazed, graying hair stood on end from his constant pulling and his skin looked ghostly white. Mangled pieces of mirror cut into his face forming an unsolvable puzzle that could never be put back together, repaired.

It was all too much for Lucas’s psyche to take, and he bolted from the room, barely stopping to lock the door behind him. Once his legs had stopped running, Lucas looked down, and realized that he still held the candlestick in a scared palm. With fear and rage still driving him, he gripped the metal tightly and savagely broke every mirror in the house, laughing wildly with each one he destroyed.
Once the job was done, Lucas was left with nothing but the haunting images of the vision. Unconsciously, he sought the darkest corner of his home and curled up into the fetal position, rocking himself to sleep. Not two hours later, he awoke screaming, a bloodied mirror haunting his dreams. After that, sleep would not come. He stayed in this position for days, not bothering to eat or drink and murmuring comforting ramblings to himself. His cheeks began to sink into his face and his body dwindled until all that was left was pale skin drawn tightly across bone.

It was about this time that the voices started. They were quiet at first, whispers carried by the wind. Not all the voices were the same – some moaned and begged, others laughed with a wicked joy, while a few just screamed, long and agonizing cries. Lucas tried to ignore them at first, plugging his ears with fingers and muttering random phrases under his breath, but they quickly grew louder and louder until they drowned out all thought save one – How do I make them stop?! Only one solution came to his mind and as his ears began to bleed with the pain, he raced to the mirror’s room. Not bothering to stop long enough to pull out his key, Lucas burst through the door.

He stared into the mirror one last time, its surface smooth and flawless, as if the cracks he had caused never happened. The picture within its frame was not his twin this time, but was of an entirely different nature. Lucas saw a multitude of people – no not people. People implied that they were alive and these . . . souls were definitely not alive. Their naked spirits were consumed by giant blue flames rising towards the sky as if in searching of more souls. Lucas could feel the heat of the fire as sparks passed through the mirror and landed on his body, burning through his clothes and scorching his skin. The souls were all different – some cried out in pain, screaming for a God that would not come, while others danced merrily among the flames, their arms reaching for lost souls yet to join them in the pyre.

The crowds began to part then, beneath Lucas’s unnaturally curious gaze and a figure walked calmly toward the glass. This figure had hair covering half his body, giant, black wings protruding from his back, and a wicked smile playing along his thin lips. But the worst thing about this creature was his eyes; they were yellow, ruthless and unfeeling. With a jolt, Lucas realized that he was staring the Devil himself in the eye and behind him was none other than Hell. There was no time for any thought beyond this, because the Devil was reaching toward Lucas. His clawed hand slid through the glass like liquid before it plunged itself into Lucas’s chest, ripping his soul from his body and pulling it into the mirror.

His body lay forgotten in a pool of blood beneath the mirror. That is until a certain housekeeper found the decaying heap days later. She rushed to his side in a panic, but she was too late. As she turned to leave the room, her eye was caught by an ornate mirror. She saw not her reflection, but a sea of bodies dancing naked within a large inferno. One face she recognized, Mr. Lucas Madden laughing maniacally and beckoning her to join.