Demon in the Mirror

Prologue

Prologue

Janet turned off the television and strained her ears, listening to the silence. Had she heard something, or was it just her mind playing tricks on her? She sat still, her arm outstretched and finger poised over the red power button on the remote control. c*****g her head, she tilted her ear upward ever so slightly as if doing so would improve her hearing. Just when she’d convinced herself it was nothing, the sound happened again—a low thump directly overhead.

“Frank? Is that you?” she called into the still air, knowing there was no way her husband was upstairs. Frank lay sleeping in his hospital bed on the first floor, just yards away from her. She had checked on him a few minutes ago. He had been ill for months now and couldn’t get out of bed on his own to use the bathroom, let alone climb the stairs.

Silence answered her as she expected it would. Janet’s arm began to ache, so she lowered the remote control into her lap without turning the television back on. Something was wrong. She could feel it. Then she heard the noise again, followed by a slow creak.

Her stomach dropped. She swallowed hard and chewed on the inside of her cheek. Maybe she had left the window open upstairs, and she was hearing the wind, but it was a hot, windless night, and that wasn’t the noise wind made. Maybe an animal had gotten into her house. The Armstrongs next door had just had a problem with fruit rats in the attic.

She put the remote control on the coffee table and stood in the cramped living room. Her purse sat in the maroon velvet chair next to the sofa. She rifled through it and pulled out a can of pepper spray. Holding the spray, she took a deep breath and started toward the stairs.

The creaking sound happened again. Scree. Long and slow, it dragged through the air.

She jumped. Her heart rose into her throat. “It’s nothing,” she said to herself as she walked to the back hallway. Before going upstairs, she peeked into the room where Frank slept. He was painfully thin now, bones poking out at his shoulders. The skin across his face was pulled tight over his cheekbones. He lay with his face turned away from her, his mouth slightly open. She wished she could wake him and tell him she had heard a noise. Then he could go upstairs and take care of it. Those days were gone. She would have to take care of these things herself now. Eventually, he wouldn’t be here at all. The thought made her heart ache.

Scree.

She looked toward the staircase. How she wished she had left the hall light on upstairs. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she held the pepper spray out in front of her. “Hello?” She climbed the stairs cautiously, her hands trembling. “Is somebody up here?”

No one answered.

When she got to the top¬¬¬ of the stairs, she flipped on the hall switch, flooding the area with cold white light.

Scree.

The bathroom door stood open, swaying on its squeaky hinges. When she reached into the bathroom to turn on the light, her heart hammered in her chest as she imagined a hand reaching out and grabbing her arm.

Nothing happened.

The light over the sink flickered on. She looked behind the shower curtain.

No one.

She looked up to see the window next to the toilet open just a c***k. Had she done that? She didn’t remember opening it, but she had been so out of it recently that she couldn’t say for sure she hadn’t. She hurried over and pushed the window closed, making sure to lock it. She would check the other rooms in the house just to make sure, but she had found the source of her terrifying noise. She would oil the hinges in the morning. She knew Frank had some kind of spray oil he used for that kind of thing somewhere in the garage.

She took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders back, trying desperately to release the tension in her muscles. She walked through the bathroom past the mirror hanging over the sink. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a dark shadow in the mirror. It clouded the edge of her vision, but when she turned her head to look directly into the mirror, it was gone. Her own reflection stared back at her. Her face was round with plump cheeks that sagged slightly. Her gray hair was growing in, leaving an ashy strip close to her scalp. She’d have to get to the hairdresser and have it touched up to chestnut brown again. She leaned into the mirror to get a closer look at herself. Her complexion was sallow, and the new wrinkles in her forehead and between her eyebrows betrayed how much she worried these days.

An image flickered in the mirror over her own reflection. A slim man with a long, narrow face stared at her, his mouth open in a scream.

For a moment, she felt disoriented. She nearly fell, but the cool plaster wall stopped her. When she looked at the mirror again, she only saw her own haggard expression. She blinked a few times. She was so tired her mind was playing tricks on her. She would go to bed early tonight. She promised herself that.

With the window locked firmly, she investigated the other rooms in the house. They were all empty as they should have been. She went down the stairs, still holding the pepper spray in her hand, but now it hung casually at her side. When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she looked in on Frank again. She was just about to step away from the door when he turned his head and looked at her with wide-open eyes.

“You’re awake.” She stepped into the room.

His chest rose and fell rapidly as if he were out of breath. She hurried to his bedside. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry.” His voice was a rasp. “I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t mean to...” He shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Janet. You have to forgive me.”

She looked at his worried face, and her heart melted. She reached out and touched his gaunt cheek. “I don’t know what you’re apologizing for, Frank, but whatever it is, it’s okay.”

He took in a wheezing breath. “No, it’s not. It will never be okay again.”

“What do you mean?”

His breathing slowed, and he got a faraway look in his eyes.

“Frank!” She gripped his shoulder.

His head lolled to the side, and his jaw went slack. Drool spilled over his lips onto his pajama shirt.

Panicked, Janet called an ambulance.