Antique collectors worldwide have been anticipating an upcoming charity auction at a renowned New York City auction house. A few items of high interest possess some rather shocking lore, adding to their value.
Over the years, the questionable history behind these items has been passed along by local authorities. Tragic accounts of the previous owners’ bizarre and untimely deaths were incredible; hence the demand for a specific antique mirror permanently nicknamed ‘Queenie’.
Many hopeful buyers crowded Queenie, reading the horrific history behind the grand beauty. Her ornate golden frame is lined with dozens of cherub-like faces, seemingly trapped and tortured.
As the crowd dispersed, an eager elderly buyer stepped forward to read the story about Queenie:
Shortly after WWII had ended, a soldier was finally reunited with his wife and daughter. Because they missed him so much, he came bearing gifts. For his wife, a beautiful gold mirror to put in their bedroom, where she liked to sit and brush her hair every night before bed. For his daughter, who loved doing whatever mommy did, her own silver hairbrush, various fancy hair accessories, and a tiny bottle of perfume for little girls.
A few days after the soldier’s return, he received orders to return to his base for a short time. He told his wife and daughter not to worry, promising more gifts in return for their patience and understanding.
When he returned home again, he walked into his room to find his wife dead on the floor. Her face was completely twisted, her hair gone, and her eyes blackened, as if her soul had been sucked out through them. His daughter was nowhere to be found. Staring into the mirror on the wall, he screamed in despair.
Unable to cope with the grief, the soldier sold all of his wife’s and daughter’s belongings. He couldn’t bear the memories of them, not knowing what had happened. A neighbor took pity, purchasing the mirror for his wife, and some of the little girl’s clothing for his visiting niece.
A month later, tragedy struck. When the soldier hadn’t heard nor seen any activity around the neighbor’s house, he decided to knock on the door. To the soldier’s shock and disbelief, the neighbor and his wife were dead, lying face down on the floor.
Turning them over, the soldier gasped. Their faces were twisted, hair gone, and eyes blackened. The child was nowhere to be found. Running to the mirror, he grasped the sides, screaming once again. Days later, the soldier was discovered dead at the neighbor’s house, in the same condition as the others.
Over the years, when an owner of the mirror died, authorities recorded something odd about the mirror: A new face appeared on the mirror’s frame each time someone died. It is rumored to be the child of each previous owner.
“You will be mine” the man spoke to the mirror, chuckling at the horror behind its history. He has been interested in the mirror for two reasons: the mirror was originally sold in his home town, and, he knows his wife will love such an intricate gold mirror. He feels this one might complete her collection of antique mirrors.
Upon returning home, he gently kissed his wife, and headed into the bedroom with the mirror. “Would you like it in here?” he asked as she sat on the edge of her bed. She simply smiled and nodded, running her aged fingers through her hair with anticipation.
“Have a seat, love” he spoke softly, pulling a chair in front of the mirror. From her tiny table, she reached for an old silver brush, treating her long white locks to slow, gentle strokes.
“My love” she finally spoke. “Yes?” he stood behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to be a beauty queen someday” she said with a crooked smile, spraying herself with a tiny antique perfume bottle.
Beauty queen … ?
She stood to face her husband, greeting him with blackened eyes.
Original story © Cara Krzyzanowski 5 August 2016
Edits: Cara Krzyzanowski 27 August 2017
All Rights Reserved
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Author’s note: This work is a prelude to something insecure and dark – a collection of strange and horrific shorts. The original story has been edited and condensed to fit the creepy pasta and flash fiction genres. The word count is strictly coincidental.
No further shorts will be published here.