Hey, you! Yes, you. Over here! Not there you moron, over here! The mirror! Yes. Good. So, hello there. My name is-
Whoa whoa don't go away! I'm not going to hurt you. I know it's a little weird that a mirror is talking to you but trust me when I say that I mean no harm. No, you're not going crazy, the last thing you'd imagine if you were bonkers would be a talking mirror! I'd know that considering I WAS a psychiatrist before all this.
Well, alright then. Let's start over. My name is Benjamin. Nice to meet you. And you are- hold it up! Good grief you're dumber than I thought. Don't all the supernatural shows you watch always tell you to guard your name? Don't frown like that. If you bandy about your birth name I guarantee that you'll regret it. Of course I'm using an alias, silly boy! Stop scowling! I graduated from college when you were in your diapers, kid. You ARE a little boy. So, let's go again shall we? I'm Benjamin, and you are? Brandon. Good. Nice to meet you.
What am I? That's awfully rude of you. I'm not some vile beast. I happen to be a gentleman. Yes, I am simply an unfortunate soul who had the abysmal luck of being imbued to this mirror. It's been so long that I've encountered another being such as yourself that I almost mistook you for an animal! Well, you certainly dress the part. Sorry sorry don't be upset. It's just a little tomfoolery. Anyways what my point is- no I'm not going to tell you to rescue me or anything like that. I WISH I could be freed. But this curse is forever. Don't pity me, it's not so bad- just a plain white void extending infinitely in all directions. In essence a canvas to be filled with your imagination. What I am here to say is a warning.
Be wary of demons. Yes. Ghosts, apparitions, monsters they're all one and the same. But what's out there is much scarier than the troupes you'll find in popular culture. Demons are clever, cunning and manipulative, smarter than you'll ever be, even smarter than me. How do you think I ended up in this egregious mess? Don't give me that look. You'll thank me later.
Yes, a demon trapped me in here. I was an ignorant tool. And the demon was especially cunning. It was an ideal recipe for disaster. The details are fuzzy. Besides, it's not a memory I particularly like to remember. But basically I was playing a game of question and response with the thing. And I lost.
The question and response is the most rudimentary occult ritual and yet, it can yield the greatest dangers. The game is simple: you summon a demon, or encounter one, in my case, and then play with it. You try outmaneuvering it with your words as it tries to prey on your soul. Fun. You might be wondering why you cannot refuse playing altogether. The reason is pretty simple, you often don't even know that you're playing it, so if you detect a demon in your vicinity, hold your tongue and think. That's the safest way to play. You ask a question. You go first, you see, demons like to feign modesty as this can often yield trust. Be aware of every word it utters and every word you do. Your soul depends on it. The demon will lie to you, however it has only two chances to do so. So if you can hold out, it is obligated to answer ANY question you ask. Anything at all. You know, why your grades are falling, or maybe how to score that cute redhead from English class. Lucky guess. Lying during the game allows the monster to do add more lies to its roster. The idea to fish out its lies and then ask your question. Don't be an idiot. The risks, you ask? Well, on a scale of bruises to eternal damnation, it is often the latter. Try to answer your questions as honestly as you can, even if it hurts you. Because if that's the worst the demon can do, then you have played the game correctly.
What're you staring at? Were you expecting more? Amusing. No. While there are other arts I'm afraid I must refrain from tainting you any further. You already know too much. Before we part ways however I can offer a little bit of practice if you will... Feeling enthusiastic?
All right, you first. How old am I? Well I am 89, quite old, I know. The years have not been kind. How old are you? Eighteen? Ah, such a tender age. What's the time? Why, it's half past three in the morning. What do you have in your pocket? Of course it's your ID! What's my favorite number? What an odd question! Well I've never thought of it like that but I'd say that it's two. Can you do me a favor? Well tell me if you can. It's nothing too much. You don't even have to leave from here. Why, thank you! What question got me in this mirror? Why do you ask? It's not a pleasant memory. I don't wish to talk about it.
Can you read what's written on your ID aloud? Don't shake your head. You said you'd do me a favor did you not? You committed. You have to. Don't be afraid, your hands are only moving to keep your word; they like keeping their promises. Don't you?
It's alright, everything is going to be JUST fine, Mr. Anthony Green.
