Furniture warehouse

 That day, as usual, I woke up at two in the morning. My daily routine is completely off track. I took out a cigarette and went to the balcony to smoke. The silence of the night, tightly surrounding the city, caused some kind of disturbing feeling. Only occasionally passing cars diluted the oppressive fear.

Fear—it constantly haunted me. I've been feeling really bad lately. I have no parents, and I lived alone in a large apartment that I inherited. I couldn't find a job in any way — they wouldn't take it because of lack of experience. Of course, I could have gone to work as a loader or the same cleaner, but then a whole bunch of illnesses that I had earned since childhood came into play. But we need money. I could have exchanged an apartment, but the dreams that I would one day have a big family, a beloved wife and a bunch of children did not allow me to do this. But that wasn't the reason for the fear. I felt, instinctively felt, that something terrible was going to happen to me soon...

I went into the store and immediately unfolded a newspaper with ads on the counter. I saw something new among the list of familiar texts. "Work for everyone." On the same day, I called there and was accepted. It wasn't a difficult job. It was necessary to protect a small area — some kind of abandoned workshop. On the first day, they explained to me what and how. In principle, nothing special — the only surprise was that I would not be working alone, but with some other guy.

I immediately examined the area. The workshop was closed, but through the cracks I saw that it was an ordinary furniture warehouse. There was assembled furniture, ready for sale, and disassembled furniture, which was assembled during the day and taken to the store, which was about 200 meters away. There was nothing unusual — cabinets, sofas, some boards, curbstones, mirrors, and so on.

The first night I met a guy, my partner, his name was Volodya. He turned out to be just as much of a loser as I was. I won't go into details, but I will say that even though he was my age, he treated me like an elder, he was always helpful, and I liked it. Every night we talked about life, about our dreams. He played the guitar well, and I painted. We quickly became friends. And the fear that haunted me began to disappear.

And then one day, while we were having another conversation, we heard some noise in the workshop. The fear returned immediately. Thoughts of ghosts and other devilry immediately popped into my head, but I pushed them away and began to convince myself that these were all fairy tales invented for children. We crept up to the workshop and peered through the crack — everything was quiet. It was clear that one of the mirrors had fallen and broken. By the way, I forgot to mention that during the interview I was told that the previous caretaker was fired because someone was constantly damaging the furniture, especially the mirrors. They were either broken or scratched, but they always lay with the reflective side down.

We decided to deal with this in the morning and went back to the gatehouse, but something made me stop. I told Volodya that we needed to check something, and went to the shards.

"Volodya, go get a broom and a dustpan,— I said to my partner.

While Volodya was away, I decided to pick up the large pieces with my hands. Picking up the first one, I held it up to my face because I hadn't seen it for several days. Looking at the week-old stubble, I noticed a black spot on the fragment, as if from soot. I wiped it with my sleeve and looked at it again...

A shudder ran through my body. It wasn't a stain at all. Some kind of black substance was standing behind me. And while I was wiping the shard, she got a couple of meters closer to me. I turned around, but I didn't see anyone. I looked at the shard again, and my hair stood on end. I forgot how to breathe out of fear. I forced myself to inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale. I've never felt such fear. It was right behind me, and I could feel it all over my body. A silhouette could be seen through the black veil. Long and thin arms and legs, a huge head. The eyes are closed, as if it is asleep. I realized that when you look at it through a mirror, it can't move.

Time has never dragged on so long. Where is that damn Volodya? I just stood there and watched. Because I was clutching the shard very tightly in my hand, it bit into my palm like a knife into butter. Blood was flowing down my arm, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the fear I was feeling. The splinter, covered in blood, began to slip out of his hands. Volodya, where are you?

I have never been so happy in my life as that evening when I heard the sound of the door opening.

— Volodya, quickly bring the mirror here!

"What's that?"

"Whatever you can find."

"There's only a closet with a mirror...

"Then get the hell out of him!"

"But you'll have to pay."

— So what?! Do as I say!

While Volodya was dragging the mirror, I was watching the creature. He didn't move.

—Okay, now put it in front of me and hold it," I said when Volodya brought the mirror.

As soon as the mirror was in front of me, I threw away the shard and grabbed the mirror. Holding it in front of me, I headed for the exit. Volodya was walking behind. The creature stood still. Damn, it was so hard to walk! My legs were numb while I was standing, but the most unpleasant thing was the pain in my arm, which prevented me from holding the mirror properly. I felt like my hand was about to open and the mirror would fall out.

I was almost at the exit. "No, Lord, no, not now," I prayed to myself. And then the hand opened...

The last thing I remember is how Volodya's head came off his body and hung in the air. I've heard that a head can live without a body for a few seconds, but now I've seen it with my own eyes. His face contorted into a grimace of fear, and tears welled up from his eyes. I wish it was all just a terrible dream... But it was real.

Suddenly, I felt a surge of adrenaline, and my legs carried me at breakneck speed. I ran for a very long time until I reached my house. I locked myself in there and started smoking one cigarette after another. I thought about Volodya, my parents, and my dreams. I understood that instead of Volodya, it could have been me. I've never had such a desire to live...