Hello. Some call me the Reflection Man, but I don't really like that name. You see, I'm not a mere man, for I am also a lot of other things. You may be thinking at this point, "Oh, this is just a story about a shape-shifter or some crap like that," but I promise you, this story is not like that.

The reason I say that I am not only a man is because my appearance really depends on who is looking at me. Most people see me as a grotesque man or a blood splatter, but others see me as differently, like as a certain animal or even themselves. You might think that someone else would have written a story about me. They have, but not how you might think.

None of the stories concerning me are about a guy walking down the street with his friend, seeing me as some weird beast, freaking out, and his friend telling him it was only a dog. There are two reasons for this, the first of which is because you have to be alone to see me, and the second is because I can only be seen in reflections.

Now that I have told you that I may only be seen when in a reflection, you're starting to wonder if you've encountered me before, aren't you? That one time you were looking at a reflection and you swore you saw something unusual. Or that time your friend told you that he saw a man in his mirror the night before, and you made fun of him, telling him to lay off the drugs. You both saw something... You saw me.

I am the only being to know the meaning of life, or at least my purpose in it. I was given life to strike fear into those who have seen me, and dread into those who have not. I am incapable of inflicting harm upon others, although I have the ability to phase through anything I choose.

Don't think that I like doing what I do. I hate it to the utmost degree. I yearn to be free of dependence on reflections. Maybe then I could stalk you in your world, make you feel the most potent fear imaginable, and finally rip you to shreds, as I've longed to be able to do. Maybe then you would believe that I was actually there, because I was.

The reason I am telling you this story is to inform you of something. My wishes are on the verge of coming true. I will finally be able murder you slowly. You will finally know that I exist and truly fear me. I tell you this to warn you... the next time you look at anything with a reflection just might be your last.