Clove hated Saturdays at the occult bookstore. The dim, musty air felt heavy as they searched for a book on astral projection. Rounding a bookcase, a glint in a security mirror caught their eye. In the distorted reflection, behind them, was a tall, thin, indistinct shadow. Clove froze, their fingers hovering over a worn copy of Leaving The Body - A Complete Guide To Astral Projection by D. Scott Rogo. They slowly turned their head, scanning the lit space behind them. Nothing. Just the lingering aroma of sandalwood and the soft rustle of turning pages.

Maybe it was a trick of the light, a distortion in the antique mirror. They looked back up. The shadow was still there, a silent, dark echo mirroring their slow progress along the shelf. It didn't have any discernible features, just a vaguely humanoid outline that seemed to absorb the already scarce light.

A prickle of unease crawled up their spine. They quickened their pace, moving further down the aisle. In the mirror, the shadow mirrored their increased speed, its form still unnervingly close.

They stopped abruptly near a display of antique scrying mirrors. In the reflection, the shadow halted too, its shapeless head seemingly tilted as if observing them. Clove whipped around again, their heart pounding. Still nothing.

The logical part of their brain screamed that it was impossible. It had to be a reflection of something further down the aisle, distorted by the curve of the glass. But the angle didn't make sense, and the way the shadow moved in perfect, silent synchronization with them was deeply unsettling. It must be something paranormal.

They decided to test it. They slipped into the next section, the one dedicated to folklore and mythology. They glanced up at another small security mirror positioned above a display of amulets. There they were, their slightly panicked face looking back. And right behind them, the shadow. It had followed their turn perfectly, its dark form a stark contrast against the aged spines of the books.

A cold dread washed over Clove. This wasn't a reflection of something else. This thing was following them. Heart pounding, they knew they had to escape the hushed bookstore, hoping the shadow wouldn't follow them into the sunlight.

Cute "Goober" art of Clove by  felloweirdo