A Grinning Imposter

I was patrolling the corridor when a sinister shadow intercepted my path. Another fiend dared to mirror my every stride, clutching a saw with identical menace. I halted, narrowed my gaze, and stepped right up to the tall glass frame. It bared teeth back at me—cold, ruthless, unwavering. I jabbed my chainsaw directly against the chilled surface with a dull clonk. It did not flinch, only answered strike for strike. A standoff of terror. I tilted my head, satisfied that this house holds at least one reflection worthy of dread.