Beyond His Evil

TWENTY-SIX.

~~~

I shook my head in disbelief, closed my eyes, and then opened them again.

To my surprise, golden eyes still stared back at me.

I froze.

My breath hitched as I took a few steps back, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing. This… this had to be a mistake.

I squeezed my eyes shut again, counted to three, and then opened them.

The golden color remained.

Panic fluttered in my chest.

My eyes had always been brown.

Had I hit my head?

Was this some kind of hallucination?

I stepped closer to the mirror, my fingers gripping the edges of the sink for support. My reflection mirrored my movements, but the golden irises remained unchanged—brilliant, glowing, unnatural.

A tingling sensation spread through my hands.

I looked down.

Before my eyes, the cuts on my skin began to close. The blood that had been dripping onto the sink reversed its flow, slipping back into my body as if time itself had rewound. The shards of glass that had pierced my hands floated out, dropping to the floor in silence.

Within seconds, my hands were completely healed.

As if nothing had ever happened.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears.

This isn’t real.

This can’t be real.

I looked back in the mirror.

That’s when I saw it.

A blinding white mark glowed on my forehead, like a symbol burned into my skin.

I didn’t recognize the person staring back at me anymore.

My breathing quickened as I hesitantly reached for the mirror. My reflection did the same. The moment my fingers brushed the glass, an electric sensation shot through me.

Then, the shattered fragments on the floor lifted.

Piece by piece, the mirror reassembled itself before my eyes, the cracks sealing in an instant until it looked as if it had never been broken.

I gasped and stumbled backward.

A humorless laugh escaped me. “This is a dream,” I whispered, shaking my head. “It has to be.”

I shut my eyes, trying to will myself awake.

But when I opened them again, I wasn’t alone.

Several other reflections had joined mine in the mirror—men and women with the same glowing golden eyes. They watched me with unreadable expressions, their presence overwhelming the small space.

But unlike me, they had no mark on their foreheads.

A chill ran down my spine.

A scream tore from my throat, and I spun toward the door, desperate to escape—

But they stepped out of the mirror.

Into the room.

My head spun. My legs locked in place. Their voices filled my ears, a chorus of whispers overlapping, speaking a language I didn’t understand.

One phrase stood out, repeating over and over.

"Another shall come."

Darkness swallowed me whole.