The Infinity Trials: Tainted Reflection

Prologue

For Mary nothing could have seemed more perfect. She knew everything wasn’t perfect and it was just a lie she told herself but she had never understood all the politics of what had been going on. She knew she had been sheltered from it, most of it; it was talk for men. Only men could deal with ‘sophisticated’ problems, never mind the fact it was always men that created the problems to begin with.

It was nineteen thirty five now. America was starting to pick itself up again after the depression. People were starting to find work again, even if it was only part time. Industry had not picked up as everyone had hoped, or at least so she had read in the newspaper which she had glimpsed during breakfast just before her husband had turned the page. The depression had not been fussy when choosing its victims. Everyone, man, woman, child, whether they be rich or poor had fallen victim to it.

Hooverville- the name made her shudder. How close had her family been to falling into that place? Different classes of society, all bound together in Satin’s pit, stranded in the heart of New York with no one coming to help. This was why tonight was so important, a party to banish the dark. Not understanding the world often made her feel stupid, but with all the time she spent thinking, she wondered if she was really stupid at all. ‘Enough,’ she thought; this was a happy occasion. She loved parties; her life was truly blessed, a wonderful home and wonderful husband, ‘Who else could be so lucky?’

“Mary come along. For God sake we’re going to miss it,” called Harry from the bottom of the stairs. She had been upstairs in their bedroom for what seemed like an eternity to Harry.

“I will be with you in a minute, honey. I’m just fixing my jewellery,” she called down whilst taking her diamond necklace from her dressing table drawer.

 “Need a hand?” he asked, all too used to this waiting. It didn’t make him feel impatient. To him she was perfect and he knew she always looked amazing after all the time she spent getting ready.

“No, I’ll be fine.”

“Well get a move on, I’ve got a surprise for you,” he smiled as he spoke. Smiling round her had become infectious. He adored her; she was all he had wanted and had thanked God every day that he had not lost her to the depression.

Mary felt the same. “Okay, I’ll be right down.” This was so wonderful, exciting, she’d never been happier. She finished putting her jewellery on, admired herself in the dressing table mirrors, then stood, ready to go down and see her surprise.

“Mary,” a ghostly whisper of a voice shattered the silence and echoed round the room. It made the hairs on Mary’s neck stand on end.

“Harry?” she asked, uncertain as to whether she had even heard anything. No reply came back. There was only silence, just her alone in her bedroom. It was only her imagination, scaring herself to death. What was she like? She dismissed it and closed her jewellery box.

“Mary.”

 “Harry? Harry is that you?” She didn’t know why but she was starting to grow in fear. She wasn’t imagining it; there was a voice. A cold, ghostly whisper.

“Mary,” the voice called to her again, scaring her, taunting her.

“That’s not Harry.”

 “I can see you”. “Oh my God, there’s someone in here! Who are you? My husband is downstairs.” She was terrified. How could there be someone in here with her? There was nowhere to hide; how long had they been in there watching her?

Faint laughter echoed round the room. She couldn’t place the voice to any specific part of the room . . . It was everywhere. She cowered back, bumping into the dressing table. “Where are you?” Her eyes darted from place to place around the room.

“Behind you!” the voice whispered. She spun round desperate not to be caught out by whoever was behind her. There was no one. She didn’t understand; she was alone; just her in the room.

“I don’t understand. There’s nobody there.” She could feel herself shaking; a fear like she had never felt before but she could see no one. Was she scaring herself? It was just her in the room, Yes just her. She was starting to calm herself; it was about being logical. “I’m imagining it,” She said with huge relief.

“Guess again.”

“Who said that?” Panic took over logic. She had been lying to herself. She was in here with someone.

“You’re looking right at me,” taunted the voice. Mary looked at what was right in front of her, nothing else but the cheval mirror and her reflection contained with it.

“But that’s just me. There’s nothing there, only my reflection.” Mary gasped in horror. Her reflection had just finished off her sentence. It had spoken the word “reflection” at the exact same moment. If she wasn’t sure the sight of the reflection slightly chuckling to itself meant she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. She wasn’t chuckling . . . This was really happening.

 “But how are you doing that? How can you be talking?” She could no longer hide her fear; her reflection wasn’t even mimicking her mouth movements as she spoke. The reflection was smiling back at her. When it answered, it still had the echo to its voice but now sounded just like Mary.

“Come dear, don’t worry your pretty little head with all these difficult questions. Why don’t you just take the weight off your feet for a while and ‘reflect’ upon your predicament?”

Mary wanted to pull herself away immediately. She could see her own face smiling back at her but it wasn’t her, she had no control over it. That smile, that voice; it was chilling.

 “No, you stay away from me. No, No, NO!” She could do nothing as a hand came out from the glass of the mirror without breaking it, her own hand, and grabbed hold of her. Her cries of ‘No,’ became an echo as she was pulled into the mirror.

 “Mary, is everything alright?” Harry had approached the bottom of the stairs again. The surprise was still waiting and he was anxious to see her reaction to it. Mary stood by the mirror admiring her hand, her fingers. She used them to stroke her hair, her new face.

 “It’s,” she began. She had to come to terms with this. She was Mary now, she had replaced her, she was no longer a reflection bound to a mirror, she was Mary. “It’s never felt more perfect,” she smirked.

“Thank God for that,” cried Harry. “Does that mean we can go now?”

 “Harry? Harry it’s me!” shrieked a desperate voice from the mirror. Mary, the real Mary, was now trapped inside the mirror.

“Oh more than ready, handsome,” replied the reflection Mary.

“Well come on then,” insisted Harry.

“No Harry, it’s not me. Don’t leave me,” Mary cried. She was frantic. She was trapped, couldn’t feel anything. She was trapped inside the mirror she had just been looking into, now being stared back at by herself, by her reflection standing where she should be standing, from the outside. A reflection about to steal her life.

“Oh, he won’t be needing you anymore little one,” stated her reflection. “In fact I think he’ll find he prefers the new improved you.”

The real Mary began to cry. No one could hear her; she was trapped and she was about to lose her life, her beloved husband, forever. “No, let me out, please, please,” but she could see in her own eyes, her very own reflected eyes . . . There was no mercy.

“You know, I never thought it did for a lady to cry in public. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a party to attend and you, you will never do in that state. I think it’s time you found some peace, everlasting peace.”

 With one last plea, one last hopeless, desperate plea, Mary begged. “No, no, stop this, please.” Her reflection slowly raised her fingers in the air. “Let me out, let me out, No, No, NO!” The reflection snapped her fingers and in mid plea, Mary vanished from the mirror . . . Forever.