Bela Lugosi Mirror Novels & Stories

There is a huge mirror in one corner of the room resembling Klara’s and to it’s left has a three foot tall wooden table on which a 360 degree spectacles holder rack is placed. Hmm….here are the traitors. These glasses are the ones who deceives the spectators making them believe that Lucas is a decent man but in reality he’s anything but good. She rolled her eyes at the glasses holder and wandered around boldly as she took slow steps deeper into the room and finally landed her eyes on his bed.

Flames danced. And in the center of the room, Liora stood frozen. Eyes vacant. Fire gone, A woman stood opposite her Aria’s face smiling like a knife Sera charged first The impostor didn’t move. But her reflection did. The walls shattered, sending shards into the air like razors, Every mirror screamed, And from each surface, A Liora stepped out, But not this Liora, but Other Lioras. Twisted. Hollow. Burning too hot. One was crowned in thorns.

I had to lean my forehead against a cold metal shelf until I could see straight again. Finally, I was dressed. I looked into a small, cracked mirror on the wall. The woman looking back at me was not the Lucia everyone knew. She was not the beautiful, polished woman who had made Elario fall in love. This woman was pale, her eyes hollow. I tucked my hair into a blue cap and pulled the mask over my face. Only my eyes were showing now.

The mirror reflected a tired but polished face. Click. The restroom door was locked from the inside. I saw Sarah in the reflection, standing behind me. She wore heavy, smoky makeup, but it couldn’t hide the dark bruises and exhaustion in her eyes. Her expensive couture gown hung loosely on her frame. She was skeletal. “So this is what it feels like to be the strongest Luna, Elena?” Sarah leaned against the door, her voice sharp and grating. “Being worshiped? Envied? You don’t look so great to me. Damon hasn’t even marked you, has he?”

"It doesn't show your face. It shows the truth of the blood." Lyra picked up the mirror. It felt impossibly light in her hand. As she looked into the dark glass, the surface began to ripple. The reflection of the festival disappeared, replaced by the image of a woman who looked exactly like Lyra, but with hair as white as the snow.

“Yes, Madam.” As the maid moved about the room, Eleanor’s gaze drifted once more to the horizon. The sun was rising, indifferent to the turmoil concealed within the estate’s walls and with it, so too would questions. ******************** Elsewhere, Bella stood before her own mirror, her fingers trembling ever so slightly as she fastened the silvery earring into place. The gem caught the morning light, glimmering with deceptive innocence. Her reflection stared back at her, pale but calm not the least. She tilted her head, ensuring it sat perfectly. It was identical to the one Aria had lost, a flawless illusion crafted to mislead even the most observant eye.

Behind her, Ignatius looked like a demon, his face masked in shadows. She reached out to touch the glass. "I look... I look like a corpse." "You are a corpse." Ignatius stared at the mirror. He didn't look at his own face. He looked at the space where Rafferty should be. Vesper noticed it then. The glass didn't shimmer. It was too clear. Too deep. She pressed her face against it. "It’s fake," she whispered. Behind the glass, a red light flickered. A camera lens.

Maya rushed toward the cage, but a wall of red light slammed her to the ground. “Don’t touch it, Maya!” Aris shouted, looking up at her. “It’s a logic trap. Touch the bars without solving the math problem, your soul’s gone.” “I don’t care about math!” Maya hollered, pushing herself up. Her hands were bleeding, mixing red ink with sweat. “You have to care,” a voice said from the shadows. Mirror-Maya stepped into the light. She looked just like Maya, except for those scary red eyes. Wearing a silver suit, holding a laser knife in one hand and a golden pen in the other.

I did a good job, too, because it lay hidden there until my sophomore year when one phone call stripped those masks away, laying bare the Truth so I could see myself for what I was. *** As maybe you can imagine I avoid mirrors as much as possible. Can’t be managed all the time, obviously. I do have to shave, comb my hair and brush my teeth occasionally. There’s also the rear-view mirror in my cab, too. That’s somehow the worst. It focuses on my eyes. Everyone’s heard it by now. It’s used in countless stories, poems and movies when someone wants to sound insightful. Eyes are the windows to the soul. Cliché, but remarkably apt. I hate looking into my eyes. They’re dead and flat, which spooks m

“Got any tips?” “As a matter of fact, I do.” Dominic pulled his magic wallet from his pocket and sunk his arm inside. When he pulled his hand out, he was holding a rectangular mirror surrounded by an ornate silver frame. The mirror was about two feet tall, and slightly more than half that in width. The reflective glass was spotless. “Another mirror?” Leesa asked in surprise. “What do I need with another mirror? The one on my wall works just fine.” A sudden thought struck her. “Is this one magic? Will it reverse the image for me?”