The Reflection Room
A Psychological Thriller
Lena had heard the stories for years-about the locked door at the end of the old Ridley Hall’s east
wing. No one used it. No one ever mentioned it. And yet, every janitor, every faculty member, every
student who had dared peek through the keyhole said the same thing:
They saw themselves inside… Only it wasn’t them.
The rumors were a joke to most. Just a tale to scare freshmen. But Lena wasn’t most people. She’d
lost her twin in that building, ten years ago. Emily had vanished after a school tour when they were
just seven. No trace. No signs of struggle. Just… gone.
Tonight, the key was in her pocket.
She had stolen it from the custodian’s ring while he slept in his office, booze on his breath, drool on
his desk. Lena walked the creaky hall barefoot, avoiding the floorboards she knew would groan too
loud. A single flashlight guided her path. Its beam trembled more from her hands than its batteries.
The door stood waiting. Black. Heavy. Its brass handle like a crooked finger.
She slipped the key in. Turned.
Click.
The air changed instantly. Still. Dense. Her skin prickled with static. As if the hallway was holding its
breath.
Inside was a room of mirrors.
Not dozens. Just four. One on each wall, each tall enough to reflect her full frame. The room had no
furniture, no lights-just a skylight overhead filtering moonlight across the polished marble floor.
She stepped in.
Her reflection stepped in, too. But not exactly.
Lena’s heart stuttered. In the left mirror, she was frowning. In the right, she was smiling-but her eyes
looked hollow. In the far mirror, her reflection tilted its head… and didn’t move when she did.
“Emily?” Lena whispered.
And the reflection… smiled wider.
She turned around to leave.
But the door was gone.
No knob. No frame. Just a fourth mirror now, directly behind her, where the door had been.
All four reflections stared.
The left one mouthed, “Come closer.”
The right one mouthed, “You shouldn’t be here.”
The center one stepped forward.
But Lena hadn’t moved.
That’s when she noticed the floor was different in the mirror. There was something painted on
it-chalk symbols, circles, spirals. A ritual?
Her reflection grinned.
She backed into the wall, but it was cold and flat behind her.
“You’re not me,” she said aloud.
But the Lena in the mirror nodded. And spoke.
“I’m what was left behind.”
The skylight cracked above her. Wind howled from nowhere. All four reflections began to
change-eyes deepening into shadows, mouths stretching too wide, smiles too long.
Lena screamed. The mirrors didn’t echo it.
She turned to run-but her foot met glass.
Shatter.
She fell through.
And landed in silence.
When she opened her eyes, she was still in the room. Only now, it was her smile that felt too wide.
Her arms too long. Her mind… quiet.
She walked to the mirror.
And inside it, a girl was pounding on the other side. Wide-eyed. Panicked. Screaming.
Lena tilted her head.
And smiled.