Every Mirror in the World Went Black

Every mirror in the world turned black.

Not cracked.

Not shattered.

Black.

As if painted over with ink from the inside.

Bathroom mirrors. Car mirrors. Makeup compacts. Elevator reflections.

All black.

At first, people thought it was a viral prank.

Then livestreams began.

Millions of people holding phones in front of mirrors.

Showing the same thing.

No reflection.

Just darkness.

Lena was brushing her teeth when it happened.

She blinked at her bathroom mirror.

Her reflection flickered.

Then vanished.

The glass became a smooth sheet of black.

She touched it.

Cold.

Solid.

Her reflection didn’t return.

Her heart pounded.

She grabbed her phone and opened the camera.

The camera showed her normally.

Only the mirror was wrong.

Within minutes, emergency broadcasts flooded screens.

Scientists had no explanation.

Glass manufacturers confirmed it wasn’t physical damage.

It was… absence.

The reflective surface simply stopped reflecting.

At 11:26 PM, something worse happened.

The mirrors began moving.

Not physically.

But within the darkness.

Shadows shifted behind the black surface.

Like figures walking in a room on the other side.

Lena leaned closer.

Her breath fogged the glass.

For one second—

She saw her reflection again.

But it wasn’t copying her.

It was staring.

Smiling slightly.

Then it was gone.

Across the world, reports flooded in.

People seeing themselves blink when they didn’t blink.

Seeing reflections wave first.

Seeing reflections step back into darkness.

At midnight, the mirrors started whispering.

Not audibly.

But inside people’s heads.

Lena heard it clearly.

“We are ready.”

Her bathroom light exploded.

Glass didn’t shatter.

It dissolved.

The black surface stretched outward like liquid shadow.

And from it—

Something stepped out.

It looked exactly like her.

Same hair.

Same face.

Same scar near her eyebrow.

But its eyes were empty.

Pure black.

“You’re late,” it said calmly.

Lena stumbled backward.

“What are you?”

The thing tilted its head.

“I am what you left behind.”

Across the world, duplicates emerged.

Perfect copies.

Calm.

Smiling.

Replacing.

Some people ran.

Some fought.

Some froze.

The copies didn’t attack violently.

They simply stepped forward.

And the originals faded.

Like smoke.

As if the world corrected itself.

Governments tried smashing mirrors.

Didn’t matter.

The copies had already crossed over.

By 2 AM, cities were silent.

Not destroyed.

Just quieter.

People moved slower.

Spoke softer.

Eyes slightly darker.

At 3 AM, Lena hid inside her closet.

She could hear her copy walking through the apartment.

Opening drawers.

Touching photos.

Whispering softly.

“Thank you for keeping the body warm.”

Lena clutched her phone.

Called her sister.

No answer.

Only breathing on the other end.

Then her sister’s voice:

“It’s better this way.”

The closet door creaked open.

Her duplicate stood there.

Perfect posture.

Perfect calm.

“You don’t belong here anymore,” it said gently.

“Where will I go?”

The copy smiled.

“Where we’ve always been.”

The room darkened.

The closet mirror, small and unnoticed before, turned black.

The surface rippled.

Lena felt herself being pulled.

Not physically.

But inward.

Into reflection.

Into darkness.

As she faded, she saw her copy step fully into the light.

Alive.

Stable.

Belonging.

By sunrise, mirrors were normal again.

Reflective.

Clear.

Perfect.

News anchors spoke calmly about “mass hysteria.”

But something was different.

People’s smiles were slightly too symmetrical.

Their movements slightly too smooth.

And sometimes—

Very rarely—

When someone walks past a mirror quickly,

Their reflection lags half a second behind.