The house was quieter than it had been in days. The oppressive weight that had seeped into its walls seemed to lift slightly after the ritual in the greenhouse. Yet, Vivian couldn't shake the feeling that something was still wrong.
The mirror remained.
It no longer glowed, no longer whispered, no longer showed her the haunting blooms of the roses. But its presence was undeniable, a silent observer that watched from the corner of her room. Vivian wanted to shatter it again, to reduce it to dust this time, but Sebastian had stopped her.
"We can't destroy it," he'd said, his voice firm. "Not yet. It's tied to you in ways we don't fully understand. If we're not careful, breaking it could take you with it."
So the mirror stayed. And the tension remained.
Sebastian buried himself in his books, scouring through pages for answers, while Vivian tried to settle into the uneasy calm that followed the ritual. But it was a fragile peace, one that threatened to break with every passing moment.
One morning, as the sun rose behind thick clouds, Vivian woke to a faint sound. It was soft, almost imperceptible, like the chiming of distant glass.
She sat up in bed, her heart racing. The sound was coming from the mirror.
Carefully, she approached it, her bare feet brushing against the cold wooden floor. The mirror's surface was still, her reflection staring back at her with no sign of the malice that had once lingered there.
But the sound continued, faint and rhythmic, like something tapping against the inside of the glass.
Vivian pressed her hand to the surface. It was cold, but solid. Real.
And then, the tapping stopped.
By the time she reached the study, Sebastian was already hunched over his desk, his hair disheveled and his face lined with exhaustion.
"It's making noises," she said without preamble.
Sebastian looked up, his brow furrowing. "What kind of noises?"
"Like… glass being tapped," she explained, crossing her arms. "It stopped when I touched it, but I know what I heard."
Sebastian sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "The connection isn't severed," he admitted. "The ritual weakened it, but the mirror… whatever's inside it, it's still tied to you. It's trying to find a way back in."
Vivian's stomach churned. "So what do we do?"
Sebastian hesitated, then gestured toward the pile of books on his desk. "There's another way," he said slowly. "A deeper ritual. But it's dangerous. It involves confronting the entity head-on."
Vivian's heart sank. "You mean go into the mirror."
"Yes."
The decision wasn't made lightly. By nightfall, they had prepared everything in the greenhouse once again. This time, the ritual circle was larger, its symbols more intricate, and the candles burned with a strange, flickering light.
Sebastian stood at the edge of the circle, his expression grim. "Once you're inside, you'll be on your own," he warned. "I can't follow you in. The entity will try to manipulate you, show you things that aren't real. You have to hold on to yourself, no matter what."
Vivian nodded, her hands trembling. "And if I don't come back?"
"You will," Sebastian said firmly. "You have to."
With a deep breath, Vivian stepped into the circle.
Sebastian began the chant, his voice low and resonant. The air grew heavy, vibrating with unseen energy. The mirror, propped on a nearby table, began to hum, its surface rippling like water.
Vivian stared at her reflection, her heart pounding. For a moment, nothing happened.
And then, the glass shattered—not outward, but inward, as though it were pulling itself apart. The shards dissolved into liquid light, spilling onto the floor and rising around Vivian like mist.
Before she could cry out, the light engulfed her.
She found herself standing in a place that defied logic. The world around her was fractured, a labyrinth of broken glass and twisting vines. The air shimmered with an otherworldly glow, and the ground beneath her feet was cold, sharp, and uneven.
"Vivian."
The voice was soft, familiar, and it came from everywhere at once.
Vivian turned, her breath catching in her throat. Her reflection stood before her, but it was no longer confined to the mirror. It was free, its face identical to hers but twisted with a cruel, mocking smile.
"You came back," the reflection said, stepping closer. "I knew you would. You can't resist me."
"I'm not here for you," Vivian said, her voice trembling but firm. "I'm here to end this."
The reflection laughed, a sound that echoed like shattering glass. "End this?" it repeated. "You don't understand, do you? You and I are the same. You can't destroy me without destroying yourself."
"That's not true," Vivian said, taking a step forward. "You're not me. You're just a parasite. A shadow."
The reflection's smile faltered, its eyes darkening. "A shadow?" it hissed. "You think I'm a shadow? I am everything you hide. Your fear, your pain, your anger. I am your truth."
Vivian clenched her fists. "You're a lie."
The reflection's form began to shift, its edges blurring as it loomed closer. The world around them warped, the vines growing thicker, the glass beneath her feet cracking.
"Then prove it," the reflection said, its voice low and menacing. "Destroy me, if you can. But remember, Vivian… shadows don't die. They linger."
Vivian's heart raced as the reflection lunged toward her, its form twisting and splitting into countless versions of itself. Each one whispered her darkest thoughts, her deepest fears, their voices weaving into a deafening cacophony.
But she didn't falter.
Reaching deep within herself, she summoned every ounce of strength she had left. She thought of the roses, their beauty masking their poison, and the way they had crumbled into ash when she bled.
The truth hit her like a spark.
The reflection was feeding on her fear, her pain. If she let it, it would consume her entirely.
"No more," she whispered, her voice growing stronger. "You don't control me."
The reflection froze, its many forms flickering uncertainly.
Vivian reached out, her hand trembling but steady, and touched the closest version of herself.
The glass shattered.
Light poured from the cracks, flooding the labyrinth with blinding brilliance. The vines withered, the reflections dissolved, and the world around her collapsed into nothingness.
When Vivian opened her eyes, she was back in the greenhouse. The mirror lay on the ground, its surface dark and lifeless.
Sebastian knelt beside her, his face pale with relief. "You did it," he said softly.
Vivian looked at the mirror, then at her own reflection in the glass shards scattered across the floor.
This time, she saw only herself.
To be continued...