Wolf's howl;Vampire bat wings flutter silently in the wind ;the ghostman rises from his slumber of the dead to bring you a tale of tale of a man who sees a reflection of himself in a simple mirror.
A strange, brief tale of the terrible fear inspired by a man's horrendous reflection in a mirror
Ten years ago my dear uncle Philip Westerly disappeared from sight a few theories were banished about by others of how he vanished so strangely and so completely without warning or hint of mental health distress.
The oddest thing about it all was the smashed mirror but all this paled when by chance I found his diary in a chest of drawers.
It has been ten years since my uncle, Philip Westerly, disappeared. Many theories have been advanced as to why and how he vanished so strangely and so completely. Many have wondered why a man should vanish and leave nothing behind him but a smashed mirror. But none of these theories or wild imaginings are half so fantastic as the story I gathered from the diary which some whim prompted him to keep.
But first a word about Philip Westerly. He was a wealthy man, and also a cruel, selfish man. His wealth was attributed to this same cruelty and selfishness. He also had many whims. One of them was keeping a diary. Another was his love for mirrors. He was handsome in a cruel sort of way and almost effeminate in his liking to stand before them and admire himself. This eccentricity was borne out by the fact that covering one whole side of his room was a mirror of gigantic size—the same mirror that is linked with his disappearance. But read the excerpts from the diary of Philip Westerly.
August 3 1886
Afternoon.
Mr Billing s had a nerve to ask for an extension on note I give him yesterday but informed him why should grant such a request.
At this Mr Billing s cursed at me in a frightful manner he said I was cruel and one day I would be made to accout for my actions for my treatment of people.
I just laughed but later on in felt a vague sense of uneasiness which even yet I have not dispelled.
Night.
Same day.
As I went to my room to dress for dinner.
I stood in front of the mirror to tying my tie as the mirror recorded this action but something odd happened as I was moving but my reflection was immobile.
Out of a sense of fear I reached out my hand to touch the mirror reflection but only encountered the polished surface of glass.
I shook my head I said to myself I was tired so it was just my imagination but when I looked again the reflection in the mirror was wearing no tie.
Was i infectioned by a malady I was unaware of but that was impossible.
There were a number of differences between it and myself. For one thing it wore a stubby growth of beard on its face. I was positive that I had visited the barber that very day and passed my hand across my chin to verify this. It encountered nothing but smooth skin. The lips of the man in the mirror drooped in a display of gnarled, yellow fangs, while my own bared nothing but two rows of gleaming, well-cared-for teeth.
I looked for further discrepancies my hands and feet were abnormally large and my clothes were old baggy and covered with dirt and filth.
At this point I stopped looking in the mirror and decided to go my dinner and try to put this at the back of my mind.
August 4th 1886
Morning
This morning I woke up jaded but my fellow reflection was still with me.
Normally due it's angle the mirror caught the reflection of me in my bed but as I looked at the reflection it seemed well rested unlike myself who had tossed and turned all night.
I got up and walked over to the mirror and he the reflection got closer to me.
As I smiled his was like a wolfish twist of the mouth i extended my hand as in a handshake but he drew his back.
I can't comperhend the power he has over me;I do my best to show it i am not afraid but I sense he has animal like senses and knows I fear him.
I have always been skeptical about such things as "soul," but when I look into the mirror—God help me!
Night.
I now spending all my time in my 6 by 6 room he in the mirror is having a morbid fascination for me.
I try to consciously walk away but I am soon drawn back.
My wife is beginning to worry as I looking pale and tells me to have a long rest.
If I could only confide in her! In anyone! But I can't. I must fight and wait this out alone.
August 5th 1886
My wife came to check on me today to see how I was feeling.
She stood in front of the mirror and glanced and brushed her her she did not see him staring at her then at me and he snarled in triumph.
The same happened to all who came to my room none saw him just themselves.
Anna, the maid. Anna would have dusted the mirror had I not stopped her. I must take no chances. A close scrutiny might reveal him to them, and they must not know—they must not know!
August 6 th 1886
Three maddening days since I discovered him in the mirror the other self reflection how he likes to torture me.
When he thinks he has given an extraordinarily clever impersonation he shakes with laughter. I can't hear him laugh. But I see him. And that's worse. I can't stand it much longer!
August 7th 1886
I ponder to myself when do we reach our breaking point or begin to question our sanity of this ordeal but I believe my nerves are at breaking point.
This is the reason my door is locked and I get my maid to leave food outside.
I rarely eat it;my wife is begging me to let her in but I tell to go away .
I'm afraid to tell anyone. I know what they do with people who have "hallucinations". No, I can't tell. Neither can I leave. God knows why.
August 8th 1886
I mentioned before about he the reflection mocking me but now I am trembling at the paranoid thought he is beginning to resemble me.
As I looked in the mirror in the mirror he was the wearing my suit at this i panicking I ran to my wardrobe and I discovered none of my clothes were hanging their were his clothes of rags.
As I turned around he was pointing at my feet they were bloated beyond recognition.
I can't write anymore today.
August 9th 1886
I can't believe my eyes the change is complete he is more like me then I am me.
With his change he has grown cruel as he taunts my ugliness.
My flight response kicks in and run fleeing the room that was my prison.
At last I found the thing I was looking for—a mirror. When I came face to face with what I now am I nearly collapsed. Yes, he has taken my form. God pity me! I've taken his!
This made me go back to my former cell with the echoes of his manic laughter.
I feel I am know in hell and God knows what to-morrow will bring.
August 10th 1886
It's now seven days since that he my reflection or is he a devil yes I have been praying to god that hopefully he will be gone and be the last time I see him.
He, in the mirror, senses it too. I see the look of apprehension in his eyes. Damn him! It's my turn to snarl in triumph now. For when I lay down this pen, for the last time, perhaps, I shall leap through the mirror. And he exists only in the mirror. God help me! I am laying down my pen!
Aug. 10th. Seven days since that devil has been in the mirror. I have prayed to God that it may be the last. It will! I know it will! He, in the mirror, senses it too. I see the look of apprehension in his eyes. Damn him! It's my turn to snarl in triumph now. For when I lay down this pen, for the last time, perhaps, I shall leap through the mirror. And he exists only in the mirror. God help me! I am laying down my pen!
The ghostman crackle s and lays back down in his coffin and as the lid slowly closes he turns and says.
"Don't have too many nightmares my children "
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