Marcus sat down at the computer in the library, attempting to focus on searching for a job, but failing as his mind kept going back to last night’s fight. What was his problem? It made no sense this time. As Marcus went down a rabbit hole of reasons as to why the man in the mirror was so angry last night, it led him to some of their first encounters. Back then, his anger was at least somewhat reasonable. But Marcus didn’t even know why he was questioning this as the fighting was periodic anyways between them. Sighing and shaking his head, Marcus glanced at the clock and was slightly shocked to see he had been staring at the screen for 30 minutes. After a moment longer he gave up. He’d gotten at least 3 applications done and that seemed to be all he was going to get in today. He picked up his bag and headed out, taking a deep breath as the fresh air hit him. The weather was as decent as it could be for the weird shift from winter to spring and he zipped his jacket to keep the slight bite of the wind out. As he walked back to his car, his mind once again trailed back to the strong denials he’d had in the beginning. When he thought his mind was playing tricks and that he should look into meds or an exorcist. Sometimes he wished that had been the case than the reality of what was actually going on.
He started the car and decided to mindlessly drive around as he had nothing else to do currently and needed to find a different way to think over what happened last night.
Two Years Ago:
Marcus had been working late nights since the incident. Figured working nights would make him too tired to look at the glaring reflection in the mirror. But even in his sleep he couldn’t escape the horrid figure. It started with slight things. Nightmares, setting things down only for them to go missing and be elsewhere, and migraines. All things that were easily explained away. The nightmares were most likely due to the trauma of everything that he’d been through. That man pushing him off that bridge nightly or fighting with himself nightly. Meaning the lack of sleep was most likely messing with his memory and also affecting him physically..It also didn’t help that he’d been skipping meals and not drinking enough water. It had only been a year. But it still felt like it had only happened moments ago. Then the big night happened. Marcus stayed up late into the night working as usual, but there came the typical migraine. Except it was a bit more… forceful. Intense. Blinding. After awhile it became unbearable. Nothing seemed to bring it down. Medication, food, water, a shower. Nothing. So he finally decided to do the only thing left. Go to bed.
Crawling into bed he felt as if someone was pushing him. Forcing him down into the bed, but he was too tired to fight back and decided to let sleep overtake him. He woke to the feel of ice cold water being dumped on him. Or so he thought. He was face to face with the man that was in the mirror. Except.. He was no longer in the mirror.
Marcus quickly tried to back up from the figure, falling over the edge of the bed, shivering as the cold air from the partially open window assaulted his wet skin and drenched clothes.
“What the fuck?!” he yelled, backing away as the angry figure took steps towards him. “Get the hell away from me!” Marcus could feel the anger radiating off of the figure and closed his eyes, repeating to himself aloud, “You’re not real. This is all in my head. A nightmare. A bad drea--” Before he could get the rest of the word out of his mouth he felt burning hot hands around his throat. He clawed at the man’s hands to no avail. He was stronger than Marcus. The man squeezed tightly before releasing, but before Marcus could take a breath, he was being forcefully grabbed by his shirt and dragged through the house. He tried to slip out of his shirt, but the grip on his collar was so tight that it was impossible to do so. Marcus tried to fight back, but he had the advantage.
They ended up in front of the computer in his study and typed in large bold words was “You. Can’t. Escape. Me. I am as real as YOU are.” After he ensured that Marcus had read the words he threw Marcus across the room. Marcus stood, his blood boiling with anger. Before the other man could attack he charged, ramming him and both of them fell to the floor. After laying a few blows to his face Marcus stood and started to try and run out, but before he could get far, he fell flat on his back as Angry Marcus swiped his legs from under him. The breath was knocked out of him and he heard ringing in his ears as his head hit the ground. Next thing Marcus knew he was being quickly dragged by his leg through the house. In his disorientation he could tell they were in the living room. Marcus opened his eyes to glare at the other, but noticed he was holding the box that held his biological moms ashes.
Panic swiftly filled his chest and he stopped breathing, eyes wide “N-no! Don’t break that!” He tried to fight to reach for it, but before he could do much, the man hopped up, beckoning for him to get up. Marcus stood up, but paused, holding his hands out to the sides to keep his balance as a feeling of nausea and a wave of dizziness rushed over him. Angry Marcus gave him a moment before walking off, obviously expecting to be followed. He walked through the house and into one of the furthest guest rooms, placing the box in the windowsill. After ensuring Marcus saw it, he nodded. What Marcus hadn’t noticed was the stick in his hand and before he could react, the man swung and hit him in the head, effectively shoving him out of the dream.
He shook his head, trying to gather his wits about him as he sat up. The pain in his head was still there and he groaned, thinking that the dream must have been a nightmare induced by his headache. Still refusing to believe that the man was anything but a figment of his imagination, he got up, walking to the bathroom. After doing his business and washing his hands he decided to go into the study. Just to calm his paranoia and convince his mind that it was all just a terribly painful nightmare. He realized that his computer was on, but chalked it up to forgetting to turn it off earlier that day. But to his sickening shock there were the words in bold that he had been forced to read.
Stepping back he kept repeating the same word “No no no no no… He’s not real. This can’t be-” He paused and quickly ran into the living room, looking along the shelf he searched for the music box that held her ashes, but it wasn’t there. He searched everywhere in the room, refusing to go to that guest room, but after coming up empty in the living room, kitchen, study, and his bedroom, he reluctantly went down the hall. The door to the room was wide open and the moonlight shined through the window and right there was the box. Marcus’s hands started to shake violently and he ran out of the room and into the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time.138Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIPsWjZb7tC
The day after that night he had spent hours researching the history of his house and poltergeists. He searched for if they could influence and take over dreams as well as information on possessions, but came up empty.
Present Day:
Marcus shook his head, sighing as he went home. He had come to the acceptance that the man in the mirror wasn’t going away anytime soon. But why he was here he still had no answer for. That was the most frustrating feeling. There were so many unanswered questions and he didn’t know how to get those answers. Yet, over the course of the next few days his dreams were eerily quiet and peaceful. Too quiet and peaceful.
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