Refecltions of the Mind

     Stan woke with a start. Breathing heavily, his white tank clinging to him soaked with sweat. His throat, on fire as if he had been screaming. The remnants of his nightmare lingering just beyond his waking consciousness. But one thing Stand knew for sure was that he had had this dream many times, and each time it seemed a little more real. He shuddered to think what would happen if he didn't wake up. 

     Stan didn't need to look at the clock to know it was 3 AM. He got up and headed for the bathroom. Not bothering to turn on the light, Stan ran cold water, splashing on  his burning face, he filled a Glass and downed the water as if his life depended on cooling the fire in his throat. Stan coughed, and spit a dark colored chunk of mucous into the sink. Wiping his face with a towel, he glared at the sink. Something was off. Stan felt his heart racing, he turned  the faucet on to wash the mucus down the sink and nothing. Both taps on full blast and nothing….  

Taptaptap! 

     Stan froze, his body filling with a dark coldness. He couldn't get any air.

Taptaptap!

Whispers

Stan had, upto this point, not met his reflection. And now there seemed to be an internal struggle. Part of him wanted to look to make sure it was all okay, but another part somehow knew it wasn't.

BANG!  The wall behind the mirror shook, yet Stand still couldn't meet his reflection. BANG! This time  the sound of shattered glass.looking down and his hand they were covered with a thick liquid. Heart racing, sweating, breaths coming in huge gasps, Stan, resigned to his fate, slowly raised his head to face his reflection.

Stan woke with a start. Breathing heavily, his white tank clinging to him soaked with sweat. His throat on fire as if he had been screaming. The remnants of his nightmare lingering just beyond his waking consciousness. But one thing Stand knew for sure was that he had had this dream many times, and each time it seemed a little more real. He shuddered to think what would happen if he didn't wake up.

The sun was shining bright, the clock read 730 AM, Friday,and his instant coffee maker had just started to drip. 

Shaking himself, he got up, took a quick shower, decided not to shave today, and avoiding the mirror all together, Stan made his way down to the kitchen.

                         ***

     Stan sat at his desk, pouring over the ancient, half decoded text.  The script had arrived upon his desk about a month ago. The letter sent with it was written in sanskrit and read: ~Great power and knowledge can be had but nothing is free. Beware any whom lingers too close. B~

     Stan had spend painful hours decoding only a few passages of the script. He glanced at the portrait that accompanied the manual. He had to be missing something. He went to the box it had been delivered in. It was intact a box within a box to be honest. The outer box was a gauze type material with a strange discoloration to it. Stan had chaled it up to the age. It wrapped around a cypress box. This inner box was lined with a reflective surface, than manual and the odd portrait.

   Stan stood up and looked out his office window, slowly sipping his 3rd or 4th cup of coffee. The earlier sunny day was now taken over by dark black rain cloud. It seemed foreboding. 

The lights flickered in Stan's office just at a loud crash of thunder rumbles the building. A shiver went down his spine. Was that electricity in the air or something else. A flash of lightning, another boom of thunder and the clouds erupted almost viscerally. 

    "I wonder?" Stan murmured to himself. Rushing to the box he ran his hands along the seam

Click

The inner box unfolded and locked into a mirror. Mouth dry Stan reached for the portrait. 

BOOM, light flickering the a blinding flash of lightning.

Stan was on a mission he headed to the men's room. 

Hands shaking he held the portrait up and stared at it in the mirror. Nothing. He turned his back to the men's room mirror held the portrait next to him and lifted the smaller mirror and studied what he saw.

 His eyes started burning and on the brink of giving up something started to take shape. It was  faint first like on the edge of his vision. Then it started to shift and morph coming closer into view yet not quite visible. 

BANG! The whole building rumbled as if the gods themselves were slamming against it. Stan let put the breath he hadn't realized he'd been hold and refocused his attention on the smaller mirror. 

Nothing no portrait, not even his reflection. Darkness suddenly started to envelop him a foul stench accompanied by hot air made breathing near impossible. He could hear whispers . They sounded horrific, some seemed angry, other sad and still others wickedly jovial as if enjoying what ever horrors lay beyond his vision. He HAD to know. 

Steadying himself Stand prepared to step into the darkness when he heard himself cough. Spinning around he was looking at himself in his bathroom. And to his utter horror the portrait he had been studying had some how come to life stand behind his other self. 

Seeing it in "flesh and blood" Stan was no longer filled a curiosity to unlock the secrets of the manuscript. He knew now what was hinting him. He needed to get his attention.  Stand screamed, he yelled. The creature behind him smiled viciously, it's drool slipping down onto the other Stan. It drew one.lomg finger out and slowly stroked it across his neck. 

Stan ran at the mirror 

BAM! 

Nothing . The creatures going grew wider

Stan ran at it again.

BAM! 

He watched himself start to raise his head then back down it went. Last change Wtan heard something whisper hot, and foul in his ear. Stan screaming  charged the mirror

BAM!  

He saw stars, but smiled as it began to crack. The creature howled angrily. Then darkness.

Stan woke with a start. Breathing heavily, his white tank clinging to him soaked with sweat. His throat on fire as if he had been screaming. The remnants of his nightmare lingering just beyond his waking consciousness. But one thing Stand knew for sure was that he had had this dream many times, and each time it seemed a little more real. He shuddered to think what would happen if he didn't wake up