Free Web NovelChapter 1: Try your Luck! Win Big! [1]
".... and that’s why I need you to stay late again. The client wants the feature tomorrow morning."
A young man in his mid-twenties with short black hair and tired brown eyes rubbed his temple as his boss’ voice buzzed on like a malfunctioned radio.
"And frankly, Zen, your commitment to this company has been very.... questionable lately."
Questionable? Right.
Zen kept his expression unchanging and neutral.
’Commitment? You mean the commitment where I have pulled three all-nighters this week, while you left to attend some parties? That kind of commitment?’
"Of course, boss. I’ll make sure it’s done."
Mr. Williams, his boss, leaned back in his chair and nodded with a self-satisfied air of someone who had believed they had imparted great wisdom.
His balding head was caught in the above office light at an unfortunate angle, making it shine like the sun.
"Good, good. That’s what I like to hear. You know, Zen, if you put in the effort like this, really commit yourself, there could be a promotion down the line."
’There it is...The carrot on the stick. The same carrot you have been dangling for a year.’
"Thank you, Boss. I appreciate that."
His boss waved his hands dismissively, saying.
"Alright, get back to it. Oh, and Zen? The coffee machine on the third floor is not working. Maybe you could look at it? I know you’re good with technical things."
Zen felt a familiar knot of frustration and resignation in his chest.
’I’m a software engineer for god’s sake, not your damn barista-slash-repairman you damned baldy. But sure, why not? Add it to the list of things that aren’t my job.’
"I’ll see what I can do."
Zen let out a deep sigh the moment he stepped out of the glass-walled office.
His shoulders dropped as he made his way towards his small cubicle.
’Guess again back to slaving.’
If not for how impossible it is to find a job these days, he would have left this job months ago.
This thought usually occurred to him around the same time as when his so-called boss invented another urgent task for him.
But the reality was harsh and unavoidable. The market collapsed seven months ago when three major tech companies announced layoffs of over 50,000 employees.
Experienced Software engineers with impressive resumes were competing for entry-level positions. Fresh graduates weren’t even getting callbacks.
Some of Zen’s friends, who were brilliant programmers and innovative thinkers, were also searching for months without a single offer.
So Zen endured.
Endured his boss’s idiocy and pulled endless overtime.
The alternative meant unemployment, which itself was nothing but a disaster in this economy.
****
By the time Zen left the office, it was already nighttime.
He felt tired, and his eyes ached from staring at the dual monitor for fourteen consecutive hours.
Zen walked down the crowded sidewalk in search of a taxi, dodging street vendors, when something caught his eye.
A small counter tucked between a general store and a pharmacy. It had a colorful banner proclaiming....
["TRY YOUR LUCK! WIN BIG!"]
It was written in big yellow letters.
The shop looked empty.
Zen slowed down his pace, staring at the counter.
The lottery man inside was an elderly fellow with thick spectacles and a white mustache.
He was reading a newspaper with the bored expression of someone who had long since stopped expecting customers.
’Should I give it a try?’
After thinking for a moment, he decided to give it a try and walked towards the counter.
The lottery man looked up from his newspaper with mild surprise, as though the concept of a customer was entirely foreign to him.
"How much for a ticket?"
"Five dollars."
Zen reached into his wallet and placed five dollars on the counter.
The man took the money and handed him a bright orange ticket with a scratch-off surface.
"Scratch here."
Zen took out a coin and used its edge to scrape away the silver coating. Beneath it, instead of numbers or symbols, there was a single word written on it....
[MIRROR]
He frowned. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ
"Mirror?"
The lottery man leaned forward, squinting through his thick spectacles, and his eyebrows twitched in confusion.
"Mirror? That’s odd."
"What do you mean by odd?"
"I mean, I don’t recall there being a prize called ’MIRROR’ in this lottery series."
The man searched beneath the counter, pulling out a laminated sheet listing all the prizes: Cash amounts, electronics, and a bike, but there was no mirror in it.
"Must be a misprint then." Zen muttered.
"Wait, wait."
The lottery man said as he disappeared into a back room.
Zen heard some sound of boxes being shifted, followed by the grunt of effort.
A moment later, the man emerged with a rectangular object wrapped in a brown packet in his hands.
"Found it. Don’t know why it was back there. But if the ticket says "mirror", then this must be yours."
He placed it gently on the counter.
Zen stared at the package.
"You’re giving me a mirror?"
"Why not? You won it, didn’t you?"
The man shrugged, his expression confused and apologetic.
’Of course, I would only win a mirror with my shitty luck.’
Zen felt disappointment settle over him, though he had already expected this would happen.
’The whole thing is probably a scam anyway. Sell cheap mirrors disguised as a lottery prize. Smart in a depressing sort of way.’
He accepted the package and walked away.
*****
Zen slid into the backseat of the cab, gave his address to the driver, and placed the wrapped mirror beside him.
The cab driver nodded and started the engine.
Zen leaned back against the seat, staring out of the window at the passing city as streetlights blurred into streams of white and orange.
The entire world seemed to move in slow motion, as though exhaustion had finally altered his perception of time.
Then his gaze moved towards the package beside him.
’Might as well look at what kind of junk I won.’
He tore the brown paper away.
Beneath it was a mirror with a beautiful silver frame with patterns that seemed to shift in the low light of the cab.
Vines twisted around its edges, interwoven with flowers that almost looked real.
The mirror surface itself looked flawless, reflecting Zen’s tired face with average looks, dark messy hair, and brown eyes.
He tilted it slightly, watching the way light played across the glass.
There was something extremely mesmerizing about it.... something that drew his attention and refused to let it go.
’Beautiful. Is this an antique?’
For a moment, he simply stared at his own reflection....
The dark circles under his eyes and a stubble he had forgotten to shave.
Then, suddenly -- the reflection...
The mirror itself moved as the surface began to ripple like water disturbed by the stone.
Zen’s breath caught in his throat, the reflection of his face distorted, and pale transparent hands emerged from the glass.
Their fingers were clawing at the air as though trying to break through an invisible barrier.
Zen’s heart stammered against his ribs.
His body locked up, frozen in place for some unknown reason. freewebnσvel.cøm
’This isn’t—’
The glass stretched upward like a membrane, bulging and warping as something tried to force its way through.
Zen wanted to scream, to throw the mirror from his hands. But his body refused to obey him.
Icy cold fingers wrapped around his waist, his arms and shoulders pulling him inside the mirror surface with an impossible strength.
The world spun around him.
The cab’s interior vanished.
There was only the sensation of falling and coldness.
The mirror also vanished from the cab.
*****
The driver glanced up at the rearview mirror, intending to ask the passenger if he wanted the AC turned up.
But what he saw made his pulse quicken.
"Huh?"
The backseat was empty.
"Hello?"
"Sir?"
He pulled over to the side of the road and twisted around in his seat to stare at the empty backseat.
The driver’s breathing grew shallow. His hands trembled on the steering wheel.
’Was he a ghost? Did I just drive a ghost?’
*****
