Face to Face

Dr. Elena Vasquez floated in the cramped confines of Orbital Research Station K-27, securing herself with a thigh strap as she checked her reflection. The station had no proper mirrors—glass was a hazard in microgravity—but a sheet of polished metal had been bolted to the far wall for convenience.

Tonight, something about it felt off.

Elena squinted at her reflection. It lagged. Not by much—just a fraction of a second—but enough to notice.

She turned her head left. The reflection followed.

She turned right. The reflection obeyed.

She lifted her hand—slowly, deliberately. The mirror Elena did the same, but the movement felt… unnatural, like a glitch in an old video feed.

“Must be tired,” she muttered.

She unstrapped herself, pushing off towards her sleeping quarters.

A faint sound echoed through the station. A tap.

Elena paused mid-air.

Another tap.

It came from behind.

She turned her head slowly.

The mirror.

The sound was coming from the mirror.

The metal had no reason to make noise—no heat fluctuations, no structural stress, nothing that could produce a sound like that.The reflection hesitated.

Then, it smiled.

Elena didn’t.

Her own face remained frozen in horror, but the mirror version of her curled its lips into a slow, deliberate grin.

Then the smile faded—not in a natural way, but like a mask slipping, the muscles of its face resetting into a blank, unreadable expression.

And then—it blinked.

Not at the same time as her. Not a reflexive blink. The reflection chose to blink.

She shoved herself away from the mirror with a strangled gasp. She twisted in midair, crashing against the opposite wall, scrambling for something—anything—to hold onto.

The reflection didn’t follow her movement. It stayed in place, staring out from the glass. Watching.

Then, impossibly, it lifted a hand and knocked.

A slow, deliberate tap, tap, tap.

From the other side.

This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real.

She forced herself to press the emergency comm button on her wrist. “Control, this is Vasquez. I—I need a systems check on Module Three. I think—I think I’m experiencing a hallucination.”

Static.

Then:

“Dr. Vasquez.”

A voice. Familiar. Hers.

“Please don’t turn around.”

Her breath hitched.

She was facing away from the mirror.

And she hadn’t spoken.

In the silence, she heard it move.

Something shifted behind her—smooth, fluid, like a body unmoored from gravity.

Right. Behind. Her.

And then—

Everything went dark.