Special Delivery

The box arrived overnight.

“Hey Larry, what’s the deal with this?” asked Jarred the next morning, handing a cardboard box sealed with thick black tape to the Distribution Supervisor. “It was in the driveway,” he explained. “I nearly ran over it.”

Larry shrugged. “Maybe it fell off the back of a truck. It looks pretty beat up,” he said, slicing through the tape with his trusty Taipan boxcutter.

Inside was a mirror.

It was perfectly round and cold to the touch, no bigger than a dinner plate. Given the state of the box, the most remarkable thing about it was the fact it hadn’t shattered.

Larry hung it in the lunchroom, joking that it was free decor. Later that afternoon, the air grew heavy.

“Guys, can you close the front bay doors? Looks like a storm’s coming,” Larry remarked, watching as the sky darkened and the clouds rolled in. He checked his watch, frowning. He could’ve sworn it was later than 1pm. “And has anyone seen Jarred?”

That night, the security cameras captured some strange footage. From certain angles, it almost looked like the mirror… flickered. Some people claimed they could see a shadowy figure in the reflection.

Larry didn’t show up the next morning, but Ryan swore he’d seen his face somewhere.

One by one, others began to disappear. Always after looking into the mirror.

Claudia tried to cover it with a sheet, but the cloth burned away in a matter of moments. Aden tried to remove it, but it wouldn’t budge. Even the wall behind it seemed to warp, as if the mirror had sunk into the building itself.

By Halloween morning, eight employees were missing.

The remaining team members held a crisis meeting to discuss their options, but deep down they knew they only had one choice.

“What if we break it?” Lachie suggested. A hush fell over the room.

Jake volunteered. He swung a crowbar against the glass with all his might.

The mirror shattered, but there was no sound, no shards. It simply rippled like water as every light in the building exploded, throwing the lunchroom into darkness.

When the power returned, the mirror was gone, and so were the reflections.

Nobody talks about the mirror anymore, but every October, a new package arrives, sealed with thick, black tape. Just waiting to be opened.