Chương 2: Chapter Two

Whenever Abigail brushed her hair, he could see the demon in the mirror. They'd shared the apartment for as long as he could remember. Just him and Abby. Sometimes, their kids came to visit. But most of the time, they stayed in their apartment. The first time he'd seen the demon standing behind Abby had been… Christ, he couldn't remember how long ago it'd been. But it'd been standing right behind her shoulder, a few yards back. It had red eyes, of course. It was a demon, after all. Abigail hadn't seen it.

She'd just run her comb through her beautiful silver-gray hair. Swish. Swish. Swish.

"Abby. Abby! Somethin's behind you." She'd stared in the mirror.

"Lou, there's nothing there. Are you feeling alright?" He'd looked again. Nothing. He'd looked behind her. Nothing. He'd looked around, eyes darting every which way. But there wasn't anything to see. Just his toothbrush—minty paste ready for him to use—and his wife. His beautiful, beautiful wife. He'd kissed the back of her neck. She'd giggled like a schoolgirl as his lips brushed her skin.

"I love you, Abby," he'd whispered to her.

"I love you too, Lou," she'd whispered, turning.

"Get your teeth brushed. We're going to the park to meet with Cynthia and her kids." He'd taken another good look at her beautiful face in the mirror. Her eyes had peered through crow's feet a mile deep, her upper lip dented from a car accident when she was just a mother of one. Before Willem or even Cynthia. When they'd only had Emily to look after. The scar was a reminder, every day, of what he'd lost. And what he'd been fortunate enough to keep.

Abby knew something was wrong, but Lou wasn't going to tell her what. If she didn't believe he was seeing things, keeping the demon at bay was up to him. It wanted his beautiful wife, wrinkles, curled hair, and all. So he couldn't let it have her. Dress shopping for Cynthia's wedding dress shouldn't have been this easy, though. There were mirrors everywhere, and it was hard to avoid them. But it was fine as long as Abby stayed in her seat as their daughter modeled white dress after white dress.

He only saw the demon behind Abigail, after all. And all the mirrors were focused on his pretty youngest daughter. Abby's dress had been better than any of these. He could remember it vividly, even though it'd been so long ago. A white veil, the bare minimum of breast showing, and wonderful, puffy sleeves. The trail had dragged behind her so far that her little sisters had to hold it up; otherwise, it swept the flowers away behind her.

She'd been radiant—maybe a tiny glow from being a few months pregnant with Emily, but he wasn't going to say anything to her father about that, and neither was she. Cynthia wanted modern cuts. Lou rolled his eyes and frowned. All cleavage and legs. What kind of wedding dress showed leg? The dresses made his daughter look like a slut.

"No, they don't, Lou. Cynthia, you look beautiful." Lou flinched. Had he said that out loud? He looked at his daughter's hurt expression as Abby stood up and started adjusting Cynthia's dress straps. He hadn't meant to hurt her, but the pain in her eyes was real. He almost didn't see his wife lean in to whisper something in the bride-to-be's ear. The demon was back. Just behind Cynthia this time, but with its bright red eyes fixated on Abigail. Lou stood up and walked toward the mirror.

He stared at the demon, trying to get in between it and his wife.

"Sir, what are you doing?" It was no use. Every time he got between Abby and the glowing crimson eyes, it just jumped to another mirror.

"Lou! Lou, stop it. Go sit back down. I'll just be a minute."

"No. You go sit down! It's there, and it's looking at you!" Lou shouted. He hobbled from mirror to mirror. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the store if you can't stop interfering," the tailor said. She gestured to the chair.

"Please sit back down. I'm sure your daughter will be disappointed if—""It's after Abby, and I won't let it take her!" He tried to whack at the scarlet eyes with his cane but stumbled instead.

"You can't have her."

"Dad! Stop!"

"Lou, let's talk over here," Abigail said, grabbing his arm. He stopped. If Abby wanted to get away from the Demon, he wouldn't argue. He let himself get dragged over to the cocktail dresses.

"Lou," Abigail hissed at him.

"This is a big day for Cynthia. It's important to her that we're here for it. It's important to us that we're here for it. But if there's something wrong and you can't be here, that's fine. We can go home. Is that what you want?" No. It wasn't what Lou wanted. But the demon was here. He took a deep breath, then another.

"No.

"Good. Calm yourself down, Lou. We'll be here another half hour. An hour at most. I know it's not your favorite thing in the world, but it means a lot to Cynthia and me."

"Will you sit with me?" Lou asked. He reached for her hand and squeezed it in his own liver-spotted fingers.

"It'd help a lot if you stayed close."

"Yes. I'll stay with you. Are you ready to go back?"

"Yes." He was ready to go back. As long as Abby was with him, he could keep her safe. He reached out with his free hand and stroked her cheek.

"I love you, Abby."

"I love you too, Lou. Now, go find your seat, and I'll be right there. I just need to say something to Cynthia, okay?" Lou followed behind her, watching the way she walked. Even after sixty years together, she still had everything she'd had when they met in 1953. You're still a real dame, he thought to himself. And I'm the luckiest old man alive. He sat down. Abby walked back to Cynthia, careful not to step on the tailor, and whispered something in her ear.

In the quiet dress store, Lou could make out a single word.

"... Louey…"

"Louey! Keep running, Louey!" Lou threw the stick aside and started running toward the parked car. The ball he'd hit bounced down the street, other boys running behind it to get it as he sprinted as fast as his eight-year-old legs would carry him. What am I doing back here? He wondered. He touched the car just as the ball flew toward him.

"Safe! I'm safe!"

"Awww, jeez, Merle, can't you throw faster than that?" Lou blinked. Was Merle here? He hadn't seen Merle in decades, not since before the War. He'd been at his funeral, for Christ's sake. Why was he thinking about stickball with Merle in 1934? In the middle of a Chicago summer? A car roared its way down the street, shiny and bulky like they used to make them. Lou grinned. They just didn't make cars like they used to. Their Chevy Cavalier had nothing on a Ford 1932 model, and it never would.

He stared at the beautiful blue car driving through the stickball game. And then he saw them. In the little round mirror. Two glowing red eyes.

"So then, she says, 'Look, Dave O'Reilly, I don't care who you are, you're not getting lucky tonight,' and I look at her, and I says, 'Ma'am, I don't know what you've heard about me, but I'm not here to get lucky. I'm here to find a wife to be with my whole life.' She's looking at me like it's total baloney—all-in—which of course, it was. But then she nods and says, 'One dance, then, Mr. O'Reilly. But if you try anything uncouth, I'll let the whole party know about it,' and we've been together ever since."

David nodded at Lou.

"Fold or see?"

"I see your bid and raise it the rest of mine," Lou answered. He slid his pile of M&Ms into the table's center, near Dave's. I've got a crazy wife story too, boys."

"Alright, let's hear it. Fold," John said, throwing his cards in.

"Okay, so I'm at my daughter's dress fitting—""She's getting married, huh? Congratulations, old-timer!"

"Thanks. Anyways, I'm there, and Abby's there with me. We're watching the lady measure Cynthia, and suddenly, Abby's up there talking to her. Now, I'm not a superstitious man. I've never been afraid of ladders or anything, but…have you boys ever seen anything…strange in the mirror?"

"Nah, just my face before a shower! Ahaha! Fold."

"Well, boys, she's up there, talking to Abby, and I see two glowing red eyes in the mirror behind her. I've been seeing them an awful lot. And they're real, but she's either ignoring them or can't see them. But it's a monster or something, and it's gonna…I don't know what it's gonna do, but I'm gonna stop it."

"Uh, Lou?" John stopped.

"You won."

"Oh. Alright." Lou scooped the M&Ms toward him with both arms.

"You want back in, Dave? I'll spot you a few dozen candies to get you going."

"Deal. Now, a few years into courting Martha, I'm getting deployed to Korea. What a mess that was."

"You don't have to tell me twice. I was at the island where airplanes were falling from the sky. Can't remember the name, but that's for the best. War is hell." Lou looked across the dining room to where his wife was talking to her friends. His blood ran cold. In the full-wall mirror, he could see the demon closing in.