Broken Mirror In A Dream Novels & Stories

After cleaning the broken tray, Mira excused herself earlier than normal. And the moment she stepped outside the chamber doors— She stopped breathing steadily. Her hands trembled violently. No. She knew what she saw. Twice. Not imagination. Not exhaustion. Something inside that mirror had looked back at her. And smiled. --- That night— Mira avoided mirrors completely. But sleep never came. Because every time she closed her eyes— She saw Elian’s reflection whispering silently through the glass. And somehow— Deep down— She felt certain of one terrifying thing.

EPISODE 1 — THE MIRROR The mirror hangs on the dressing room wall, framed in silver so heavy two men would struggle to move it from its mount. In the coffee shop where Mira’s life ended, the only mirrors were the small, smudged squares above the bathroom sinks — scratched with initials and hearts, reflecting faces tired from work and worry. Here, this glass is perfect, polished to a clarity that shows not just reflections but the faint ghost of what was there before. The silver frame carries cold like a block of ice pulled from winter water, and when she presses her palm against it, the metal leaves white marks on her skin that take seconds to fade.

“They have nothing on me.” “Sure, they don't. But, Rena, how exactly do you plan to handle this?” Ada asked, worry bleeding through tone. Mirena tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “The easiest way,” she replied. She merged into traffic smoothly, eyes focused ahead. “Do you know the disadvantage of a house of mirrors?” She asked and basked in the silence that followed afterwards. A smile curved her lips.. “It shatters the moment you throw a rock at it,” she continued. “Every reflection fractures. Every illusion collapses. The beauty people admired becomes something twisted and unrecognizable.”

I could make out the outer frame of the mirror, all black and having something similar to vines twisting and turning from the base on either side and merging at the top. The mirror itself was broader, but looked old and also had cracks in it. Faint ones. But despite that, I could see something move inside it, something dark. I pulled the coat closer and folded my arms as something dark swirled in the mirror, rippling like water, as if it wanted to get out of the mirror by cracking it open. The darkness thrashed against the mirror, slamming into it every now and then, but the mirror stayed solid and unmoving. The corners began to glow in a light blue color, and I think I saw weird symbols app

My image finally started blurring, but it’s not my family that’s reflecting back at me this time. It’s Creed, bloody and bruised. He screamed as the chains that held him rattled. The mirrors surrounding him played images of burning buildings and people running. I can hear their screams, their innocent. Just as fast as they came, the images vanished. They were replaced by a battle, but I don’t recognize anyone. The image of a black wolf is positioned above the battle in the mirror. An image of a vampire was on the mirror next to it. I can hear screams of pain and heartbreak as I watch the victims from both sides fall.

Liam said firmly, dialing the number. But before he could press call, the lights flickered again once, twice, then held steady. Lola’s gaze snapped toward the fallen mirror. The shards no longer reflected sunlight. Instead, they shimmered faintly, like water catching light beneath the surface. “Liam…” she whispered. “It’s happening again.” He dropped the phone and rushed to her side, grabbing her hand. “Stay with me. Don’t look.” But she couldn’t help it. Her eyes locked on the largest shard, and in that fractured glass she saw movement.

The house seemed to hold its breath as she moved through the room, her footsteps muffled against the old floorboards. The mirror stood at the center, its frame dark and ornate, gleaming in the dim light. She had seen this mirror before, had felt its presence in her dreams, in the whispers of the house. This mirror was not just a reflection; it was a doorway. A doorway to the past, to the lives that had been lived in this house, to the women who had been trapped in its walls.

I darkened my brown eyes. Then, looking me in the eye— Were the eyes of Viktor. My reflection's lips twisted into a slow, ruthless smile. Gasping, I staggered back. The mirror broke. My breath was ragged as I startled up. As I wiped perspiration from my forehead, my hands shook. Then I noticed it. The mirror on the other side of the room Broken. I gasped for air. It was only a dream. Was it not?

So, why would the moon goddess curse her to become one of them instead of being a werewolf. “It was all a dream,” She said to herself, before she happily went and pushed the curtains open to allow more sunlight stream into her room. She closed her eyes to embrace nature’s warmth. But she felt something else land on her face, that made her pull away from the window side and that’s when her eyes landed on the broken pieces of her mirror, which the sunlight met some of it in the floor and was reflecting some of it through it. Broken silver mirror. The smile seized from her face instantly the moment she realized what was going on. If it was a dream?

She might be blind but I just knew she would be able to sense it. I waved off the thought and returned to dry my hair at the table. The broken mirror was still lying face down. Why did I still have this? I picked it up and was going to dump it in the trash again when a thought crossed my mind in a flash. Quickly, my eyes scanned the words I’d seen days ago but couldn’t make any sense out of them. "Beneath the moon's mournful gaze it lies, where crimson stains mark a shattered dream but amidst the ink-stained tears of the past