My sneakers echoed on the stone steps as I descended, the beam of my flashlight cutting through the darkness. The air grew colder, clinging to my skin, and I shivered in my thin t-shirt and jeans. At the bottom, the cellar opened up into a cavernous room, its stone walls rough and uneven, the floor a mix of packed dirt and scattered stones. I'd expected clutter like boxes or old furniture, but there was nothing. Just empty space, vast and silent, except for one thing: a massive mirror standing dead center. Creepy.

It was taller than me, maybe seven feet, with an ornate silver frame carved with swirling patterns that looked ancient, like something you'd see in a museum. The glass was cloudy, almost smoky, rippling faintly in the dim light of my flashlight.

I should have left it there. I should have. But instead, I stepped closer, my reflection coming into view, but it wasn't quite right. My short red hair was there, messy as always, framing my freckled face. My green eyes stared back, my long legs looked the same in my faded jeans, and my breasts pushed against my t-shirt, but the figure in the mirror felt... off. The eyes were too intense, too alive, like they were watching me instead of reflecting me. My skin prickled, and I swallowed hard, my breath fogging the glass as I leaned in closer.

That's when it happened. The mirror shimmered, like water disturbed by a stone, and my reflection moved! Just... not with me, but on its own. I stumbled back, my heart lurching, but before I could run, she stepped out. She was me, down to the last detail, crazy, the same red hair, same freckles, same slim build... Bu-but there was something wrong, something predatory in the way she moved. Her eyes locked on mine, and a slow, hungry smile spread across her face. My flashlight slipped from my hand, clattering to the floor, and the darkness closed in around us.