How?
The room was quiet, but not still. The flickering light of the chandelier cast distorted shadows on the walls, making the space feel alive. She stood near the desk, fingers lightly grazing its worn surface as the monster loomed behind her, his presence heavy but not menacing.
Her eyes drifted to the mirror. The ornate frame seemed to twist and writhe in the dim light, as though alive. The reflection of the room was perfect—too perfect, like it was waiting for her to notice something she shouldn't.
"What is it about the mirror?" she asked softly, almost afraid to disturb the air between them.
The monster didn't answer immediately. He shifted, his massive frame creaking the old floorboards. When he spoke, his voice was low and deliberate, like he was choosing each word with care.
"It's not just a mirror."
"What does that mean?" She turned to face him, searching his fiery eyes for some kind of clarity.
Instead of answering, he reached out a clawed hand. "Come here."
Hesitating, she let him take her hand in his. His touch was rough, the claws sharp but careful. He guided her closer to the mirror, the glass rippling faintly as they approached, like a pool disturbed by the wind.
"Watch," he said.
He placed his free hand on the mirror's surface. The glass shimmered, the room's reflection twisting and warping until it was no longer recognizable. What replaced it sent a chill down her spine: a dark corridor stretching endlessly, its walls covered in the same intricate patterns as the mirror's frame.
She stared, the hairs on her arms rising. "What is this?"
"This is where it goes," he said cryptically.
"Where what goes?"
He didn't answer, instead stepping forward. The mirror's surface rippled again, and he walked through, pulling her with him. She gasped as the cold enveloped her, and the room behind them vanished.
Inside the mirror, the air was thick and heavy, like breathing underwater. The corridor stretched on, lined with faintly glowing carvings that pulsed like a heartbeat.
"Why are we here?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He stopped and looked at her, his fiery eyes flickering. "You wanted to know about the mirror. This is part of it. But knowing comes at a cost."
"What cost?"
He didn't respond directly. Instead, he knelt and touched one of the glowing carvings on the wall. The light flared, and the corridor shifted, showing her something—an image of herself, sitting in the house, staring blankly at the same mirror. But in the reflection, she wasn't alone. The shadow of another figure loomed behind her, one that wasn't him.
She stumbled back, her voice shaking. "What is this? What am I looking at?"
"The house," he said, standing slowly. "It doesn't just watch. It remembers. It holds everything. Even the things you've forgotten."
Her breath hitched. The figure in the reflection seemed to turn toward her, even though she wasn't there anymore.
"What do you mean—forgotten?" she asked, but her voice cracked as she spoke.
He stepped closer, his tone heavy. "I've been trying to protect you from it. But some answers... you'll have to find it on your own."
YOU ARE READING
Veil of Shadows
Paranormal--The world fell into darkness as she called to it, her voice swallowed by shadows before her words even reached her lips. She fell, hands dragging her downward, as if they would finally end the desire, she felt for the creature that had tormented h...
