The Discovery
As Alex absentmindedly traced his fingers over the cool, metallic surface of the Sphinx bookend, the Egyptology scholar within him nudged him to readjust the figurine, aligning it with the traditional "East" instead of some arbitrary direction. Playfully turning it, he was astounded as the sphinx replica effortlessly spun on its base, securing itself with a satisfying click. Suddenly, the floor beneath him began to tremble, and a segment of the seamless granite floor parted, revealing a small, squarish opening. The light from the Anubis-shaped lamp on the ceiling filtered through the opening, casting a rectangular halo on the floor below. "Fuck me," Alex whispered in disbelief. Beneath the opulent halls of the Department of Egyptology's library, he had stumbled upon a concealed room. He mentally thanked the indecipherable hieroglyphic text that had led to this discovery.
After devoting the last four waking hours and one sleeping hour to deciphering a chunk of hieroglyphic text sprawled across two adjacent pages in the "Egyptian War Time Rituals" book, Alex found the text elusive, succumbing to drowsiness. Awoken by the resonant midnight gong of the grand mummy-shaped clock in the corner, he decided to call it a day. While tucking the unfinished book into its designated slot on the shelf, his gaze lingered, once again, on the bronze Sphinx bookend at the end of the row. He couldn’t resist the urge to reset the tiny Sphinx to face East.
Alex quickly surveyed his surroundings – this part of the library was empty. Not unexpected for a Saturday night, especially in the less frequented Department of Egyptology. He hastened down the tiny staircase landing on the bright rectangle of light on the floor. His sense of urgency wasn't driven by the fear of being discovered by someone else but rather by his impetuous and curious nature. This was a deadly combination - something that distinguished him from the rest of the mortals of the same planet. He was like a chef who would skip the recipe and just throw the ingredients into the pot, hoping it turns into a masterpiece. At times, it did; more often, it didn't.
The underground chamber was pitch black; he couldn’t see anything beyond his rectangle of light. The unmistakable hum of a dehumidifier resonated in his ears, prompting him to reach for his mobile phone and illuminate the space with its flashlight. Sparse metal shelves lined the walls, most bearing emptiness. A few sealed and labeled wooden boxes punctuated the vacant spaces. He clumsily felt around until his fingers found the light switch on the left wall, and with a satisfying click, he turned it on, filling the room with the soft glow of an ordinary ceiling lamp. None of the opulence from the library above lingered here. What drew his gaze was the tall, black cloth-covered object positioned at the room's farthest end. Alex paced up to it and pulled off the veil without hesitation.
"What the hell is this?" Alex stood in perplexity, his whisper breaking the silence. He was standing in front of an oval, polished metal plate cradled by a rectangular metal frame. The compact structure could easily pass through the rectangular opening he had used to enter the room.
The frame's base featured a pair of chains with clasps at their free ends. Although the metal plate displayed a faint greenish patina, its unmistakable sheen caught Alex's attention. This contraption was unlike anything he had ever seen, not even within the pages of his extensive reading. However, he sensed its age — it had to be very old, at least a few thousand years.
Affixed to the frame's top left corner was another, smaller shiny metal oval plate with an ivory handle. Wedged between the frame and the smaller plate was a sheet of paper. It didn't require the discerning eyes of a scholar to recognize that the paper and the mysterious contraption belonged to different eras.
Without hesitation, Alex retrieved the sheet of paper, his eyebrows knitting in disbelief. It was a printed copy of the famed Joseph Christian Leyendecker painting featuring Cleopatra holding a mirror to her face. The cheap print likely originated from a library printer, adorned with handwritten notes on the back, marked with red question marks and circles. Alex paid little attention to the annotations and tossed the paper on the floor; his focus was on the image itself, a revelation striking him with force.
This was Cleopatra's mirror!
The sheer grandeur of his discovery catapulted him back to 30 B.C. "Could this be the same mirror that the last and most powerful Ptolemy ruler used to apply kohl to her eyes?" Alex whispered in his head; his eyes gleaming with excitement. He chuckled at the mental image of a stunning Egyptian queen applying makeup in an incense-smoke-filled room, facing a shiny metal mirror.
However, the initial excitement waned swiftly because Alex was not one to linger in self-congratulation — his insatiable curiosity wouldn't allow it. Stepping back, he aimed to see the bigger picture.
The Game
There were two aspects of the contraption that puzzled him. Firstly, why would the queen need a smaller mirror (as indicated by the construction and printed picture)? Secondly, what was the purpose of the pair of chains with clasps?
Drawing closer, he instinctively slipped the chain clasps onto his feet. Without a secure fastening mechanism, the clasps proved too loose to bind to his feet securely — slipping in and out of them was effortless. While grappling with the seemingly faulty clasps, his attention shifted to a small inscription near the mirror's base. Bending down with his mobile flashlight, he examined the engraving. The patina made it challenging to read, but it appeared to be an inscription in the Indian "Devnagari Script."
Alex took a picture of the inscription to decipher it better on his phone screen. With a bit of contrast adjustment and zooming, the text became clear. The thrill of this new revelation was unparalleled because Alex was acquainted with a popular school of thought suggesting that Julius Caesar had once visited India during Cleopatra's reign. Though unfounded, the Devnagari Script on the mirror hinted that Caesar might have obtained the mirror from India, perhaps as a gift for Cleopatra. Some theories even proposed that Caesar faced defeat and expulsion from India by the ruler of Ujjain, Vikramaditya. Yet, it wasn't the mirror's origin that perplexed Alex; it was the simplicity of the text.
The inscription on the mirror, etched in Devnagari Script, read, “khel shuru karne ke lie do baar taali bajaayen,” translating to “Clap twice to start the game.” Whoever inscribed the text or created the mirror wanted the user to clap twice to initiate some sort of game. "But, what game?" Nothing made sense to Alex. There was only one way to find out — Alex clapped loudly twice in succession. In an instant, the metal clasps snapped shut around his feet with a decisive click. The room allowed for movement, but escape was impossible without unlocking the clasps or aligning his feet forcefully with the tibia!
Cursing under his breath, Alex grappled with the unyielding chains, his hands working in vain to free his feet. Amid his struggle, an uncanny revelation caught his attention — his reflection in the mirror stood calmly, watching him with an affable smile! It wasn't a menacing grin but rather a friendly acknowledgment. Straightening up, Alex reciprocated with a forced and confused smile. The mirrored version initiated a silly game of snapping fingers and signaled Alex to follow suit. Alex, utterly puzzled, just stood there, trying to process the bizarre situation. The mirrored version of him watched for a moment, then reached out, grabbed his right fist, and guided him to snap his fingers together. The touch was rough and ice-cold, unlike the smile!
The mirrored reflection retreated, conjuring a mangosteen fruit out of thin air and placing it on a tiny ledge near the bottom of the mirror. A silent invitation for Alex to indulge. Still feeling a bit dazed, Alex took the exotic fruit, and the tangy-sweet juice woke up his senses, making him realize just how hungry he was. He hadn’t had anything to eat since lunch. The mirror seemed to know exactly what he wanted. Things started making sense now.
The game, initiated by Alex with his double in the mirror, unfolded with rules both peculiar and fascinating. The premises were simple — repeat after the reflection, complete the task, and reap the reward — a manifestation of his needs and desires. If a task was too difficult or confusing, the reflection would assist him and still reward him. “This is fucking great,” thought Alex to himself as he prepared for the next game.
In the next challenge, the reflection quickly shuffled a deck of cards, then neatly arranged them again. Alex, intrigued, decided to test the mirror's ability to decipher his desires. With a mental plea for a chair to sit on, he mimicked the reflection's actions. As soon as he completed the task, a luxurious, regal chair materialized beside him, validating his theory. A triumphant "Yesss" escaped Alex's lips as he settled into the ornate seat, chains still clasped to his ankles, brimming with newfound enthusiasm for the games that awaited him.
The subsequent challenge required Alex to touch his right cheek with his right hand, but by maneuvering it around his head. It posed a considerable difficulty, yet Alex managed to complete the task with a significant level of effort. The task left him with a sprained neck, but he preferred that over his double’s “assistance.” He was determined to avoid the touch of those cold, lifeless hands belonging to his reflection. This time, the reward materialized in the form of a bag of cash—an item Alex had mentally yearned for.
As these games kept going, their complexity intensified, and the rewards grew increasingly exotic. After several rounds, Alex found himself accumulating a substantial amount of material wealth, neatly piled on the floor beside him. However, amidst his growing prosperity, he couldn't help but notice an unsettling metamorphosis occurring within the reflection in the mirror. With each passing game, the mirrored image underwent a grotesque transformation — hair lengthened and tangled, nails extended, teeth and eyes took on a malevolent glare, and the skin grew paler, adorned with ominous bruises. Alex, didn’t care — all he wanted was more and more wealth!
Then came the game of five-finger fillet. The reflection placed its right hand on the mirror, fingers spread wide, expertly stabbing a knife back and forth between them without inflicting any harm. Alex sensed trouble as he observed the reflection deftly wielding the knife. When his turn arrived, fear gripped him, freezing him in place. His left hand lacked the dexterity of his right, rendering it unfit for handling a knife with precision. Despite the risk, he took a chance, desiring the same knife, cast in gold as his reward. The initial rounds progressed slowly and uneventfully, but the transformed reflection, now a hideous witch, expressed dissatisfaction with the sluggish pace. Stretching out arms with bruised and melting skin, it seized both of Alex's hands in a vice-like grip, mercilessly stabbing the knife through his fingers. Panicked and screaming, Alex struggled to break free, inadvertently impaling three of his fingers. When the game concluded, he had lost two fingers on his right hand. The reward materialized in the form of a thick, solid gold knife.
As Alex gazed in horror at his severed fingers on the floor, he screamed with terror and rage, "Bring it on, mother fucker! Is that all you got, huh?" Desperate for freedom but uncertain of how to cease the game, Alex attempted to kick the mirror, only to be thwarted by the chains restricting the range of his feet. The hideous creature in the mirror smiled silently and conjured a small snake, an Egyptian cobra, from thin air. The hissing serpent coiled back, repeatedly biting the reflection on the face, unleashing more venom with each strike. Alex watched in horror, realizing his end was imminent. Alex quietly wished for the mirror's public reveal as his last desire. He wished to unveil the monstrosity concealed underneath the library, known only to maybe a few professors and the museum curator who had put it there.
It was now Alex’s turn to imitate the reflection. He wouldn’t have the hideous creature touch him again. Collecting himself, he calmly picked up the hissing, agitated snake. The first bite landed on his forearm, but summoning all his strength, he brought the snake to his face, mimicking the reflection's actions. As the serpent struck vehemently, Alex felt the metal clasps around his ankles give way. Freedom at last! Collapsing onto the floor, he struck the mirror headfirst, dislodging the smaller mirror hooked at the corner.
The Twist
Sebastian, Alex's dorm room mate, was the one who alerted the University authorities in the morning about his prolonged absence throughout the night.
When the police arrived, it took no time for them to stumble upon the conspicuous rectangular hole in the floor of the Department of Egyptology's library. There, in front of a peculiar metal contraption adorned with chains, lay Alex—lifeless and bearing the marks of multiple snake bites, two fingers severed, and evident head trauma. Strewn around him were riches in the form of cash, expensive jewelry, a solid gold knife, and various expensive gadgets, alongside the grim remnants of his fingers. Also scattered on the floor was an oval, shiny metal disk with an ivory handle.
Among the discovered items was a printed copy of a famous Cleopatra painting, adorned with multiple handwritten notes on the back. The following day, newspapers across the city featured the story prominently on their front pages, recounting the grim details from the site and delving into the mysterious scribbles found on the back of the artwork.
Here’s the clip from a leading newspaper:
PhD Student's Tragic Death Linked to Cleopatra’s Mirror Mystery
Staff Reporter, The Truth
In a startling discovery this morning, local police uncovered the lifeless body of Alex Sherman, a PhD student in Egyptology, within a concealed chamber beneath the Castlebrook University's Egyptology library. The scene was marked by macabre details, with the mutilated remains positioned beside a gleaming metal mirror purportedly once owned by the legendary Egyptian queen, Cleopatra. Handwritten notes from university professors, discovered on the reverse of a printed copy of Cleopatra’s painting, hinted at the mirror's storied history.
According to these notes, the mirror, a gift from Julius Caesar, had been received by Cleopatra during his visit to India. Allegedly, the mirror possessed the ability to fulfil the wishes of those engaging in games suggested by their reflection. In return for completing these challenges, participants could obtain anything they desired. The notes suggested that this mysterious mirror played a pivotal role in Cleopatra's historic affluence, granting her every desire.
Despite its potential for bestowing wealth and power, the mirror's challenges could become treacherous and nightmarish. To prevent self-harm during these games, a user needed only to present a smaller mirror to the larger one, effectively halting the ongoing challenge while still receiving rewards for participation. Cleopatra, it is believed, always carried a smaller mirror with her for added safety.
However, on the day of her demise, Cleopatra was without the smaller mirror, leading to an inability to cease a particularly perilous game. This resulted in her tragic demise through a forceful suicide, succumbing to the venomous bite of an Egyptian cobra.
Ironically, Alex Sherman's demise mirrors Cleopatra's fate, as he too is claimed to have perished from multiple bites by an Egyptian cobra. Colleagues of the deceased attested that Alex was known for overlooking fine print instructions, speculating that he may have missed the crucial details on how to halt a perilous game. Many contend that a diligent approach and timely use of the smaller mirror, hooked to the larger one, could have potentially saved Alex's life.
The End
Unbeknownst to all but the departed Alex, it seemed his dying wish had been granted - the secrets of the mirror had been revealed. Does this mean the mirror is dormant, silently waiting for its next victim? We wouldn't know!
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