Reflections show us who we are--all of who we are.
“I find this entire operation rather fraudulent, and most likely unethical,” declared the grey haired alien as he was dragged down the hallway by a brunette. The hall was a straight walk, with a mirror at the end. Pictures of snakes covered the walls.
“It's like palm-reading. I'm not saying you have to believe it, but it's just a bit of fun,” said Clara, annoyed that the Doctor was about to ruin their fun yet again.
“Clara, how could a mirror show me “who I am inside”? I talked to the man outside in charge of this scam and he said something about 'quantum reflections.' What does that even mean? Honestly, we should have went with the stargazing tour” said the Doctor.
Clara sighed, and replied “Obviously it's unscientific and not based on any reality. Happy now? But I just want to have some fun. Then we can go back to normal adventures.”
The Doctor folded his arms, and walked briskly forward, clearly wanting to get this over with. Inspecting the mirror, he grumbled audibly. The mirror's metal frame was colored green, and was speckled with iridescent dust.
“So pretty,” said Clara, transfixed.
“Not really. It's clearly some signs of rust underneath. Probably just got taken out of some cupboard,” said the Doctor. Noticing Clara's fallen expression, he said “I'm sorry. I think I'm messing up your happy time.”
“It's okay,” said Clara. She was starting to get used to this Doctor's tetchiness.
Then the Doctor and Clara stared into the mirror. For several seconds, their reflections stared back at them.
The Doctor coughed loudly. Clara almost kicked him.
The image shimmered, and Clara saw two other people in their place.
The one on the left felt wrong. It was ancient, and stared at her like she was a bug. She felt like it could rip her apart in an instant. It's stare was full of rage, and cut Clara down in the core, and made her feel a fear she hadn't felt since her mother died. It was in the man's form, but only as a covering—there was an intelligence that dragged her in. Her mind felt violated.
She closed her eyes, and turned her head. Opening, she saw the other reflection. It was of a human woman with brown hair, and a round face. She seemed familiar to Clara somehow, and Clara felt offended, but didn't know. The woman glared at Clara, like she wasn't worth her time. The woman's glare was vain, and vengeful, but also oddly playful, like she and Clara were in on some private joke. She grinned at Clara, still keeping her malicious stare, and despite the fact that she was human, the girl was the more inhuman of the two reflections. It brought shivers down Clara's spine.
Clara was woken from her trance by the Doctor smashing the glass. He stomped the pieces, again and again, and Clara had to restrain him. Instead of calming down, the Doctor rushed out of the hallway.
“I will not let you label me as something I'm not!” snarled the Doctor aloud.
Clara's blood felt chilled. What was in that mirror?
She didn't know, but she looked back at the name of the attraction.
It was called Mirror of the Mara.