The Smiling Reflection

I was hired to find Charles Vincent, a tech mogul who vanished from his private sanctuary, Odyssey Island. The staff insisted he was merely 'on a trip,' but the calendars in the mansion were all three weeks old, and the grandfather clock chimed at erratic intervals. On my third morning, a crow slammed into my bedroom window, dead. Tied to its leg was a scrap of paper scrawled with a single frantic warning: "THEY ARE LYING." Panic set in. I grabbed my bag and sprinted for the pier. But as I passed the large antique mirror in the foyer, I froze. My reflection didn't stop. While I stood paralyzed with fear, the man in the glass turned to face me, and slowly, deliberately, stretched his lips into a wide, hideous grin.