Part 1
"Eleanor take the dog out now or you wont be
going out tonight, I warn you!" Mrs Turnbalm shouted across the spacious
kitchen, hands wet and foamy from the washing up. Eleanor remained engrossed in
her teenage romance magazine, munching her toast at the kitchen table and
wistfully wishing that the pretty heroine in her magazine was her.
"Right young lady, you may as well go to your
room, do your homework and then get ready for bed" Eleanor's mother said,
wiping her hands on a tea towel. The word "Bed" made Eleanor look up
"but mum I will take Oscar out, it's just that...."
"No buts...you either do or you don't", her
mother huffed and walked into the living room.
Eleanor sighed, and then looked at the scruffy brown
and white mongrel who was woefully wagging his tail, hopeful that a walk was in
store for him. She smiled. Oscar was such a lovely dog but why did she always
have to be the one to take him out, it was her father who needed the exercise,
fat lump!
Eleanor took one last bite of her toast then went to
get the dog lead. Oscar jumped around excitedly as put her coat on and hooked
the lead to his collar. It was chilly outside. And the wind whipped her sandy
blond hair into frenzy. Oscar pulled on his lead, jerking Eleanor's body forward
and making her trip on a paving slab. "Oscar, quit it!" she yelled.
They walked towards the park, the wind and chill
driving its way through the padding of her puffa jacket. She looked at the park,
with its dense bushes and thick tree stumps, anyone could be hiding behind there
and she wouldn't know. Even though it was only 5.45pm, the sun was setting
quickly on this cold winters evening, covering the whole neighbourhood with a
foreboding and eerie blanket of darkness, which rapidly began to spread across
the park.
Eleanor walked briskly, which pleased Oscar, as he was
impatient to get to the park. "Okay Oscar, this is the deal, we go in you
do your business and we're out of there okay?" she said, making her tone
sound authorative even though she knew the dog had absolutely no clue what she
was saying. She just wished there were people around. There didn't seem to be
anyone around, not even the usual group of teenagers that hung around smoking
and drinking cheap cider. Tonight was definitely creepsville. The sooner she
went home the better.
Oscar began rooting around the grass, picking up
scents and returning the compliment by lifting his leg occasionally, but there
was no sign of him doing anything more, much to Eleanor's dismay. She knew she
couldn't take Oscar home until he was done otherwise he would leave a very
unwelcome present in the hall carpet the next morning.
It was now completely dark, and as Eleanor tried to
find her footing amongst the hidden tree stumps she heard a high keeling wail.
She turned abruptly to find Oscar running off into the distance, still yelping.
"Oscar! Come back! What's wrong!" she shouted, but the dig had no
intentions of stopping. As Eleanor prepared to give chase she noticed something
glinting amongst the leaves on the ground. She approached with caution and
crouched down, straining her eyes against the darkness. She noticed it was an
ornamental hand mirror. She held it up in front of her looking at the engraved
patterns surrounding the mirror. The design seemed to be made up of elves and
fairies in a dull gold colour, peeling and cracked in places. The mirror itself
was in fairly good condition. Eleanor giggled. The stupid dog must have seen his
own face on the floor and scared himself half to death. She looked up to see if
Oscar was within sight, however he was nowhere to be seen, her mother was going
to kill her! She stood up, clutching the mirror in her hand and made her way in
the direction that Oscar had taken off on. It was getting colder now and she was
beginning to become impatient with the missing dog.
"Oscar, for Christ sakes dog! Where are
You!!!" there was no sound not even a distant bark. Where the hell could he
be? She wondered. As she walked through the thick bushes of the park she noticed
that the mirror she was holding was becoming very hot in her hand, so much so
that she let out a cry of surprise.
"OW! What the...." She dropped it on the
floor and noticed to her amazement that the reflection in the glass was glowing
red and yellow, like flames trapped within the mirrors confines. She bent down
to take a closer look when suddenly a large flash of light illuminated the whole
area bathing Eleanor in a glow as bright and hot as sunshine. Before she could
cry out, the earth beneath her feet began to shake and Eleanor found herself
toppling to the floor, outstretching her hands for support. She fell right on
top of the mirror................................
The policewoman patted Mrs Turnbalm's hand, as she
patted her tearstained face one more time. A neighbour found Oscar and it was
then the Turnbalm's alerted the police. That was two days ago. Eleanor was
nowhere to be fund and the police feared her dead. The only thing they did find
was an old antiquated mirror lying on the leafy path in the park. They took it
to forensics but could find no prints on it at all. They had decided to file it
under lost property.
The lost property room of Fulchester Police Station
was crammed with all sorts of bric a brac. Old key chains, purses (no money in
them of course), toys, shoes, the odd bracelet and of course an old antique
mirror. The mirror was placed in a plastic bag and consigned to a dark corner of
the room tagged lot no; 345. Irving Liste was the elderly constable whom instead
of taking retirement decided he would like the chance to work a little longer
within the force so they gave him the job of lost property manager. His duties
consisted of tagging and logging all new items that came to pass and handing
them back to whoever came to claim them, with the relevant ID provided of
course.
It was while Irving was logging in the details of a
lost watch that he noticed out of the corner of his eye a glint of light
flickering in the far corner of the room. He rose out of his chair and walked
towards the source. He noticed it was coming from one of the packs in the far
corner, and as he got nearer he realised it was a mirror. "Silly old fool I
am, it's only the reflection of the mirror" He picked it up and took it out
of its plastic pouch. Suddenly the mirror became very hot in his hand and,
startled by the sudden change in temperature, dropped the mirror on the floor.
There was a crashing sound as the mirror broke into a hundred pieces, but it
wasn't that which made Irving scream in terror it was the body of a young girl
who suddenly appeared on the floor of the room, or what remained of the body of
a young girl. Each and every part of her was dissected into a hundred pieces
just like the shards of broken mirror. Lumps of flesh lay scattered around,
blood mingling with putrid flesh, muscle and bone. Irving wanted to gag but he
was rooted to the spot in shock, the smell overwhelmingly sickening. Suddenly he
heard a faint voice coming in the direction of the floor " help me...please
help..." Irving got closer to the source, covering his nose and mouth with
his hand, eyes streaming from the effort to contain bile. "Over here, down
here, quickly..." The voice was getting louder although not much more, it
sounded like it was in a vacuum of some sort. The Irving saw something that
finally made him give way to the nausea and terror that had built up. He
screamed the scream of the damned.
Lying on the floor next to a sliver of mirror was a
pair of lips, held together by skin and muscle. It still had teeth and a tongue
although there was no other part of the face near it and the lips moved
fervently, pleading for help. Two eyes balls lay nearby moving of their own
accord, the optic nerves trailing along the floor.
This was when Irving decided to faint.
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