A horror fan since childhood, a geek by nature, and a jokester by heart, Ian believes entertainment, no matter what form it takes, combined with laughter, is the best medicine to combat life's challenges. His favourite movies amongst many others are Aliens, The Thing, LOTR, and Star Wars.
His next release is in the upcoming anthology, "Invasion Of The Saucer-Men from Mars" from Specul8 Publishing to be released this July in time for World UFO Day.
He is a father and is currently living in Melbourne, Australia with his partner, son, two stepdaughters, and 4 cats, which is enough of a horror story on its own.
You can follow his exploits on Facebook at Ian Gielen - Author
DECEPTIVE REFLECTIONS
by
Ian Gielen
No one believed me, and then it happened again. My reflection in the mirror winked at me. The first time it happened, I chalked it up to fatigue. After a chaotic day of work at the pharmacy, I had returned home and found myself in the bathroom before the mirror, gazing at the dark circles beneath my eyes when, one eye reflected in the mirror twitched and winked at me, intentionally and slowly. Startled, I had taken a step backward and closed my eyes, drawing in a few deep breaths before opening them to peer into the mirror once more, half-expecting my reflection to blink back at me once again. It didn’t. My reflection looked exactly as I expected it to. I quickly dismissed it. Not only was I exhausted, but I was also adjusting to newly prescribed anti-anxiety medication.
The second time it happened was on the following weekend. No excuses for tiredness this time. Although I was still adjusting to the anti-anxiety medication, I was sure I wasn’t experiencing any side effects at that moment.
Once again, I found myself in front of the mirror, making final adjustments to my outfit before heading out to meet friends for drinks. As I glanced down to unbutton the top of my dress shirt, I returned my gaze to the mirror, only to find my reflection grinning mischievously and winking at me. I froze in shock.
I knew then that I had no longer imagined what I first saw.
My mind drifted back to the moment I first saw the mirror. It was at an estate sale. The owners of the old decrepit house down the street had passed away, and the family had requested an estate sale company to organize the sale of its contents. The freestanding mirror caught my attention straight away. It was an antique featuring a faded gold gilded frame set on a sturdy metal stand. I called my wife Angela over, and we quickly agreed to grab it, much to our teenage daughter, Paige’s disgust. Soon enough, it found its way into our house and was brought upstairs to our bathroom, where it became a regular fixture.
So far, I was the only one who had seen this phenomenon in the mirror. When I tried telling Angela about it, she laughed it off and said my medication was making me see things. Maybe it was? This couldn’t be real, so it must be. At least that’s what I convinced myself.
The next morning, I woke with a killer headache. The aftermath of a wild night of drinking. In a hazy state, I stumbled to the bathroom. After relieving myself, I turned to head back to bed, but froze upon seeing movement in the mirror. It was my reflection. It was waving at me, wearing a broad smile.
I felt my face drain of color. It was impossible, yet seemingly undeniable. I grabbed a blanket from the closet and threw it over the mirror. Just before I did, I was certain I saw my reflection change, its expression one of intense anger. Behind it, I could have sworn I saw a crowd of people, terrified expressions etched on their faces, mouths agape in silent screams.
I ran back to the bed and slipped under the covers, convinced I was hallucinating. I was certain I just needed more rest, and everything would be back to normal.
It would never be again.
The next thing I remember was the sight of my body being zipped up in a black body bag; the paramedics transferring it from the bed to a stretcher as Angela stood nearby, with her head in her hands, tears streaming down her face.
I was standing there next to the bed, but I wasn’t. The mirror I had found myself trapped within reflecting the scene. I cried, pleaded, and begged for someone, anyone, to hear me, but no one did.
I could feel a menacing presence, an unmistakable aura of malevolence hovering over the scene as tendrils of translucent energy, only visible to me, snaked out from the mirror towards those present in the room. As soon as one connected, it transformed, pulsing with a grotesque reddish color as it sucked the life-force from its victim back into the mirror and fed the entity that lived there. The entity that had claimed me for its own.
Even as I stood there, watching it all unfurl, I could feel myself being drained, my spectral being weakening moment by moment. Soon I would join the rest of the screaming, tortured souls I had seen in that brief glance before I threw the blanket.
Now Angela sits there on the bed’s edge. The paramedics gone, my parents downstairs consoling Paige. She had been there for hours, worn out, her eyes red-rimmed, but tears no longer fell. There were none left to shed.
All the while, the tendril attached to her had been sucking, draining her without her knowledge. I had done all I could to get her out of there, waving, screaming, jumping, and pleading, but it was no use. She couldn’t hear me.
As I fade away before her, I can feel energy converging, a presence forming nearby. It’s familiar. Too familiar, and I realise with horror that it’s Angela.
With a thud, her lifeless body crumples onto the bedroom floor, her fading heartbeat synchronizing with the retreat of the energy, which seizes one last surge of life-force before vanishing into the mirror.
She is materializing beside me as I reach out, desperate for one last touch, to let her know I’m here. Just beyond the form of the confused Angela who reaches her hand out to me, I can see Paige rushing from the hallway into the bedroom, falling to her knees beside Angela’s body, screaming. I scream too as I fade away completely. The last thing I see is a tendril of energy snaking toward Paige and my soul knows utter, hopeless despair.