Chloe grabbed the mirror. She brought it up to her face. She smiled, expecting perfection. Expecting youth.
She blinked.
Her smile faltered.
She touched her cheek. She touched her nose.
Then, a sound rose from her throat—a guttural, animalistic noise that wasn’t quite a scream. It was the sound of a mind snapping.
Crash.
The mirror shattered on the floor.
“What did you do?” she shrieked, clawing at her face. “What is this? I look… I look old! I look… tired!”
She spun around to face me. Her eyes—my eyes—were wide with horror.
“You ruined me!” she screamed. “Who are you? I’ll sue you! I’ll kill you!”
I stood still. I reached up to my face.
Slowly, deliberately, I pulled down my surgical mask. I pulled off my cap, letting my hair fall loose—the same hair color she had dyed hers to match.
The face staring down at her was the exact same face she had just seen in the shattered glass. The same nose. The same chin. The same eyes.
“You look like the woman he is married to,” I smiled.
Chloe gasped, backing away until she hit the wall. “No… no…”
The door handle turned.
“Babe? Are you ready?”
Richard walked in. He was holding a massive bouquet of red roses. He was smiling, eager to see his purchase.
He stopped dead.
He looked at me, standing in my scrubs.
Then he looked at the woman on the bed.
He dropped the flowers.
He was trapped in a room with two versions of the wife he had betrayed. One was holding a scalpel. The other was screaming with his wife’s voice.
Chapter 5: The House of Mirrors
“Richard!” Chloe cried, reaching for him. “Help me! She’s crazy!”
Richard stumbled back, slamming into the doorframe. He looked like a man having a stroke. His eyes darted frantically between us.
“Don’t touch me!” he yelled as Chloe grabbed his arm.
He recoiled from her. The woman he had lusted after, the escape from his “boring” life, was now a mirror image of his obligation. The sexual attraction was instantly executed by the uncanny valley of horror.
