It was an ordinary Sunday afternoon when I received the call. I had just finished a long walk around the park, my favorite way to unwind after a week filled with work and meetings. As I was putting my keys back in my pocket, my phone rang, and I didn’t recognize the number.
I almost ignored it, but something made me answer. Maybe it was the silence of the afternoon, or maybe it was just the lingering feeling that something was about to change.
“Hello?” I said, holding the phone to my ear as I walked toward my front door.
“Is this Laura Green?” The voice on the other end was calm but slightly mechanical, like a voice that had been used too many times.
“Yes, speaking.” I frowned. The voice didn’t sound familiar.
“This is Detective Harris from the Greenridge Police Department. I need you to come to the station immediately. It’s about your brother, Michael.”
A cold chill ran down my spine. Michael. My younger brother. I hadn’t heard from him in weeks, but I knew he had been busy with his own life. We weren’t particularly close, but there was no way I could ignore a call like this.
“What happened?” I asked, my heart suddenly racing.
“I’ll explain everything when you arrive. Please, don’t delay,” Harris said, his voice growing more urgent.
I didn’t argue. I hung up, grabbed my car keys, and rushed out of the house. My mind raced, trying to make sense of what could possibly be happening. Michael had always been a bit of a mystery, but he wasn’t involved in anything dangerous, or so I thought.
When I arrived at the station, I was led to a small, sterile room where Detective Harris was waiting. His face was impassive, but his eyes told a different story—there was something he wasn’t saying, something buried just beneath the surface.
“Detective, what’s going on?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly. “Where’s Michael?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he gestured for me to sit down. I did, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was about to hear something I wasn’t prepared for.
“Your brother’s been found,” Harris said after a long pause. “But I’m afraid he’s not the person you remember.”
I blinked, confused. “What do you mean? Where is he?”
“He’s in a… a state of disorientation,” he said slowly. “We found him last night, wandering along the highway near the old abandoned mill on the outskirts of town. His clothes were torn, and he was covered in cuts, but the most alarming thing was his behavior. He was speaking in… riddles, in fragments of sentences that didn’t make sense.”
I felt the world tilt slightly, like I had just missed a step on the stairs.
“Riddles? What kind of riddles?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Harris looked at me, his expression softening just a fraction. “We couldn’t make sense of it at first. He kept repeating one phrase over and over: ‘She’s waiting in the dark.’”
A wave of dread washed over me. The words felt too familiar. They were the same words Michael had used in the strange, cryptic messages he sent me months ago. I thought it was just him messing around, playing some game. He had a habit of sending odd texts late at night, like trying to be profound or mysterious.
But this? This was something else.
“I need to see him,” I said, my voice steady despite the chaos inside me. “Please, just take me to him.”
Harris hesitated for a moment, but then he stood up. “Follow me.”
We walked through the sterile hallways of the station, the sound of our footsteps echoing in the silence. When we reached the holding room, Harris opened the door to reveal my brother sitting in a small chair. His back was hunched, his head tilted slightly to the side, as though he was listening to something I couldn’t hear.
“Michael?” I called softly, stepping into the room.
He turned to face me, and for a moment, I didn’t recognize him. His eyes were wide, almost too wide, like he hadn’t blinked in days. His skin was pale, almost sickly, and his hair was wild, sticking out at odd angles. He looked… off. Not just physically, but mentally. Something had broken inside him.
“Laura,” he said, his voice distant and hollow. “She’s waiting. You need to come with me. She’s waiting in the dark.”
“Who?” I asked, feeling a chill creep up my spine.
He stared at me for a long moment before answering. “The woman in the mirror. She’s been calling me. She wants you, too. She’s waiting for you.”
My heart skipped a beat. The woman in the mirror? That phrase sent a wave of memories crashing over me—memories of strange things Michael had mentioned in passing when we were kids. He used to talk about a woman he saw in the mirror, a woman who would appear whenever he was alone, staring back at him with a cold, knowing smile. I always thought it was just an imaginary friend, a trick of the mind, but now…
Now, it felt like something more.
I reached out to him, but he pulled back, his eyes wild. “She’s coming for you,” he whispered. “She’s always watching. She’s in the dark.”
Suddenly, the room felt colder. The lights flickered once, then twice, and I could have sworn I heard a faint, high-pitched whisper from somewhere deep within the walls. My heart hammered in my chest as I turned to Harris, desperate for answers.
“Is he… is he okay?” I asked, my voice trembling.
Harris looked at me, his expression unreadable. “I’m afraid we don’t know. Whatever happened to him, it’s not something we can explain. He’s not the same person. We’re going to keep him here for observation, but… I don’t know how much help we can be.”
I felt a lump form in my throat. I didn’t know what to say, how to react. All I could think about was Michael, my little brother who had once been so full of life, now trapped in some kind of nightmare I couldn’t even begin to understand.
“Is there any way I can help him?” I asked, feeling helpless.
Harris shook his head. “There’s nothing more we can do. But… you should be careful. Whatever this is, it’s not just affecting him. It’s like it’s spreading. And I’m afraid it’s already after you.”
I stared at him, not fully understanding what he meant, but somehow knowing that the darkness Michael spoke of was now coming for me.
As I left the station, my thoughts were a whirlwind. Who was this woman in the mirror? What did she want with Michael—and now, with me?
The whispers, the shadows, the cold feeling in the pit of my stomach—they were all real. And now, there was nowhere to run. The dark was waiting for me.
