|Chapter One |
Carlos wandered through the streets, his mind still reeling, a constant tug of war, a part of him wondered if whatever happened with his reflection was actually real and not his mind playing tricks, or even perhaps just a strange dream, another part of him, the rational part, was saying it was just that, nothing more that his imagination running wild.
His feet gradually came to a stop, as he stared up at the house in front of him, just a bit off in the outskirts of town. Unkempt plants and weeds crawled at its sides, dirtying the outside walls.
He managed a small smile as he stepped inside. "I'm home." The boy muttered with a sigh, he shut the door behind him, before sauntering into the halls, his steps echoing in the quiet house. It's not even fair to compare this place to a magical, sentient house but, over the years Carlos had been coming here, he had made it his own, a peaceful hideaway.
The home had once belonged to a nice old man, who had no relatives to take over it. Carlos was familiar with the house, before it had ever become abandoned, a memory flashed in his mind as he passed through a shelf, one that a younger him could barely reach.
He stopped, blinking. There's a mirror hanging on the wall. He stepped forward, using his ruana as he wiped the dust that collected on its surface before taking a step away.
"You—-!" Carlos shouted in disbelief, wanting to just reach forward and just shake that mirror in front of him for answers.
The stranger in the reflection was back, smiling and waving at him enthusiastically, as if this was some sort of normal Tuesday for them.
"What are you?" Carlos said. "What is this?"
They lifted a hand, as if signaling "wait" – once again scribbling in the air. Carlos waited, as slowly, words began appearing on the mirror.
"I'm. . ." Carlos read, eyes squinting. "A friend?" He said, and watched as the person nodded, giving him a thumbs up as if he was a child that had gotten an obvious question correct. "You're –" He began, unsure of how to say it. "You're in a mirror?"
They shrugged. Strange. That wasn't exactly a complicated question.
". . . You can hear me, right?"
A nod.
"Why aren't you saying anything?" Carlos asked. "--Can you not talk?"
The figure stared at him then huffed, crossing their arms, fingers almost aggressively gliding across the air. Writing.
"That's. . ." Carlos read. "-- a rude thing to say?" He rolled his eyes, offended. "It's a totally normal thing to say, and you're one to talk about being rude. You're the one popping up in mirrors!"
He stared at the figure, a little agitated, before he found himself groaning, fingers raking through his hair in realization. His eyes look down. "I'm talking to a mirror– this is it. I've – I've lost it. People did say I'd drive myself insane one day."
The rush of thoughts and voices in his head came into a stop as he heard a small tap. He glanced back towards the mirror, eyes looking over the newly formed sentence.
"Calm down, drama queen." It said.
"Drama queen?" Carlos repeated, his eyebrows furrowing, which only caused the stranger to laugh. "You – you never answered my question. What exactly are you?" After years dealing with his so-called "gift" he still wasn't exactly sure how it worked, most of the time it's out of his control.
He simplified his power as to seeing spirits, the undead, or at least a version of how a person remembers their loved ones – but if that wasn't horrifying enough, he had the ability to change into them, not that he ever wanted to, it seemed to come and go. It was uncontrollable. Needless to say, it wasn't exactly something the town's people desired.
Carlos watched intensely, as they wrote.
I'm a friend.
Again? "I–" He began, another sigh leaving his throat in exasperation. "You know that doesn't really answer my question, right?" Were they being vague on purpose? It seemed like it.
Another unheard laugh.
They tilted their head, and once again their finger flitted across the air, and with a gentle smile their hand lowered –and slowly, the figure vanished into nothing.
Carlos stood alone, eyes unable to move away from the words etched across the mirror.
I'm a mystery.
Go and solve me.
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Hi,
Thank you for reading!
I know this is a bit different from the previous things I've written but, I hope y'all still liked it!♡
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YOU ARE READING
Shattered Mirrors ⇁ Carlos Madrigal
Fanfiction[ Carlos Madrigal x Reader ] "What exactly are you?" "Hmm, I could tell you, but what's the fun in that?" In which, Carlos stumbles upon a strange adventure. That all started with the glowing figure in his mirror.
