Richard Reese and Delilah Sutton could not have been more optimistic about purchasing the storage unit. It hadn’t been touched in fifteen years and happened to be the cheapest on the lot. They were hoping to discover that the storage unit was full of furniture for the quaint Victorian era cottage down the road. Delilah had seen an add in the paper soon after they had moved into their new house and Rich had agreed that it was worth a shot. He needed a couch for his “man cave”, which was really just a normal den with some bookshelves in it, and Delilah wanted a rocking chair for the nursery.
Imagine the young couple’s disappointment when the door lifted up to reveal a nearly empty compartment. At least they were able to find one of the two specific items they were searching for.
A rocking chair rested under a white, dust ridden sheet in one corner. Delilah moved to uncover it immediately, Rich went to follow her when he noticed an old book lying in the middle of the floor. He bent to pick it up. There was a picture of a newly wed couple on the cover. Rich frowned upon discovering that a family photo album had been left in the compartment and proceeded to flip through the pictures. After inspecting the rocking chair Delilah came to join him.
“That’s so sad.” She said as she peeked over his shoulder, one hand on her stomach. “Who could leave something like this behind?”
Rich just shrugged and continued flipping, his teeth working the inside of his cheek. He paused on a close up of the couple, one where both were staring out at the camera. The woman was only a few years younger then Delilah and a real beauty, but Rich found himself staring at the man’s face. The picture was old and faded, but Rich could still make out the man’s pale skin, fierce brown eyes, and slicked umber hair. There was something off putting about the man in the photo and Rich couldn’t figure out why.
“Hey,” Delilah reached out and took the album from him, her blue eyes crinkling around the edges as she squinted at the photo. “He kind of looks like you.”
“You’re right.” Rich murmured as he realized why the picture bothered him. There was an uncanny resemblance between him and the man in the photo. Rich and Delilah shared a glance as Rich raised an eyebrow and they both burst out laughing.
They let the odd coincidence drop and instead focused their attention on the third item in the compartment, a mirror. Larger than a bathroom mirror yet not a body length mirror it would fit perfectly in the hall outside the nursery.
That afternoon, the couple moved their sparse findings from the lonely storage locker to their home. Delilah put the rocking chair in the corner of the nursery while Rich hung the mirror across the hall. Then as Delilah fiddled with adjusting the baby toys Rich dusted and cleaned the glass. He ran a hand over the muted gold trim surrounding the glass, marveling at how ornate the carving was. He was startled from his thoughts as Delilah laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“I’m going to go have another look at those photos. Maybe I can track down the family so that we can return them.” She kissed him on the cheek and then she was gone, disappeared past the peeling wallpaper into the den, leaving Rich to face his own reflection.
For a moment he just watched himself blink, trying to pinpoint the exact similarities that he shared with the man in the photos, then realizing how ridiculous it was to obsess over, he chided himself.
“Pull it together, Rich.” He muttered. “It’s just a picture.”
He didn’t expect his reflection to respond, he almost fainted when it did.
“I’d say.” The man in the mirror scoffed.
Rich’s jaw dropped and he was too shocked to react in any other way but to stare.
“Who are you?” Rich finally stuttered, only to feel that he must be going insane if he was speaking to his reflection in a mirror.
“You know who I am. You were just talking about me.” The man smiled in a perturbing manor as he ran a finger along the other side of the glass. “There was a filmmaker who peaked in the 50s, I believe his name was Claude Chabrol, who once said: ‘I love mirrors. They let one pass through the surface of things.'”
The man chuckled as if he had just said something amusing, his breath fogging the glass so that Rich could barely see him. His laughter abruptly stopped as he spoke again. “I happen to agree with Mr. Chabrol. Hence, why I am here.” He gave Rich a pointed look. “I’ll take my life back now.”
Rich stumbled back a step as dizziness swept over him. “Rich, everything alright?” Delilah called from the den.
With the welcoming sound of her voice the spell seemed to pass and Rich straightened. He gave the mirror on the wall a crooked grin as he smoothed his hair with a hand. He pulled his glasses off and slipped them into his pocket, he wouldn’t be needing them anymore.
“I’m fine, Honey.” He answered before turning to go join her.