Blade Of Broken Mirrors Novels & Stories

Ariella's eyes swept the cell, searching for any means to ensure her silence. Her gaze landed on a shattered mirror, its fragments scattered on the floor like shattered dreams. She approached it, her heart heavy with purpose. Among the shards, one piece caught her eye – a jagged edge, sharp enough to seal her fate. Ariella picked it up, cradling the broken glass in her palm, its fragile weight a stark contrast to the weight of her decision.

The air in the room was thick with the sound of silence as the shards of the mirror lay scattered across the floor. Bliss stood there, breathless, her body still trembling from the force of the mirror’s shattering. The house had tried to take her, tried to break her spirit and trap her within its walls. But now, with the mirror destroyed, it felt as though the grip the house had on her was starting to loosen, just enough for her to breathe, to feel free.

The sound was indescribable. When the blade struck the reflection—my reflection—there was no crash of glass, no thunderclap. Instead, it was a note, low and aching, like the end of a song that had gone on too long. The mirror didn’t just break; it folded. Inward. Like a memory being erased. I stumbled back, chest heaving, the blade still warm in my grip. For a moment, I thought the world might come undone around me. The fog screamed, then vanished all at once, sucked into the broken mirror as if it had never belonged here.

The mirrors closed in tighter as their whispers hissed menacingly. “NO!” Vincent roared, slamming his fist into one of the nearest shards. The glass shattered outward, cutting his arm and spraying blood. The whispering paused for a moment as one reflection blinked out. Camela gasped and held onto him even more tightly. “You broke her voice…I felt it.” Vincent bared his teeth in determination. “Then I’ll break them all.” He struck again; another mirror shattered into pieces and yet another reflection disappeared. But the remaining shards only grew louder in their whispers, their tone overlapping until the air trembled with Camela’s name:

I hissed. I slammed my hand against the mirror again and cracks split across its surface, spreading like veins. The reflection’s voice turned desperate. “Rory, stop! You’ll destroy me!” “Good,” I whispered. The mirror broke. Pain burst through my armglass tearing my skin, blood spilling across the floor. I fell to my knees, gasping. The broken bits glowed softly, reflecting not Elias, not Selene but me. A thousand versions of me. Crying. Screaming. Laughing.

With a mighty force, he hurls the mirror to the ground, the glass shattering into a million pieces with a deafening explosion of sound. The room now lies in disarray, the broken mirror a stark reflection of the turmoil that rages within Paul. His chest heaves with the exertion of his outburst, his mind clouded with a mix of anger, hurt, and frustration. As the echoes of his actions fade into silence, Paul is left standing amidst the wreckage, the shattered mirror serving as a poignant symbol of the brokenness that now consumes him.

"I know you don't like this wedding, but I hope to God you'll atleast try to enjoy it. A wedding day is a scarred day, no matter the situation." "Duh! I'm not going to listen to your craps, woman." She slowly opened her eyes, and the woman she was staring at doesn't look at her in the slightest bit. The woman before her was a mirror. "What did you do, Samirah? This doesn't look like me." She whispered slowly, still gazing at herself from the mirror.

I blurted. He laughed bitterly. “Why is that, right? Do whatever it takes, Hernandez. She ran after you so many times, it's time for you to break a sweat too.” “You're buying," he pointed to the glasses and left. I stood there drinking and remembering the night everything started to go wrong. The night I broke Sofia's heart for the first time and all the other times I did it again and again over the years. Yeah, maybe I really needed to make things right.

Staring at the ink on the pages, I close my eyes, With the arrow and knives thrown, The mirror didn’t break. No trails of cuts and blood, He was the shield, and I was the one who striked all along.

A tear rolled down my face and my head started spinning and my vision went blurry. "Babe you look sick you need to go to the hospital!" He said grabbing my arm attempting to help me regain my balance. But I jerked it back. "Don't fucking touch me I can take care of myself and by the way I'm not your fucking babe anymore!" After I said that everything went black. ~Ella's P.O.V~ I woke up in a unfamiliar room and in a bed next to Nate. I covered my body up with the sheets as I tapped Nate on the shoulder.