Broken Mirrors Book Novels & Stories

Suddenly, the mirror fogged—on the glass, words began to burn in reverse from within the reflection itself. Glowing Words: “BEWARE THE BLOOD YOU HIDE.” Ceres gasped. The mirror cracked.

I could feel it—its walls vibrating softly, its breath rising in the dust motes around me. And then—I stood. I knew where I needed to go. The mirror room. *** It was just as I remembered. Shattered glass still scattered the floor like frozen stars. The large mirror was gone—exploded in a curse-breaking storm. But along the far wall… stood a smaller one. Unbroken. Framed in tarnished silver. Covered with a thin sheet of white silk. My hands shook as I stepped forward. I hadn’t looked into a mirror since that night.

The Blood Mirror let out a piercing hum. The entire catacomb trembled. Cracks spiderwebbed across the ancient stone pillars. The candles flickered wildly, casting eerie shadows. "Impossible..." The elder backed away, shaking. "The mirror is moving on its own? This breaks all the ancient laws..." But the mirror was beyond anyone's control now. It ruthlessly drained my very last drops of blood. The crimson light was blinding. I could feel the last bit of warmth leaving my body, but at the same time, a twisted sense of satisfaction washed over me.

Everything was as always and yet very different. They were still alive. Those damn bastards who turned my sixth birthday into a bloody massacre are still alive! My childhood was ruined after that. Everything had changed from one day to the next and even today I only had to look in the mirror to see everything in front of me again. "Crap!" Sneakers squeaked across the floor. Seth came into my field of vision. "What's wrong?" One look out of the corner of his eye was all he got, then I struck again.

Lucien flickers in and out of torchlight, a blade in each hand, ghosting through mirrors before they fully form. Seren burns. But even her flame hesitates. Because mirrors do not fear fire. They feed on it. “Fall back!” she calls. “They drink identity, don’t speak your names! Don’t remember too loudly!” Too late. A young hybrid screams for his sister. The mirror echoes him, perfectly. And then eviscerates him with a smile. By the third hour, the ground is a slick mosaic of blood and glass dust. The mirrors crack under force, but never stop smiling. They do not speak.

Lenny, bless him, just snorts and coughs loudly enough to echo through the shelves, like a foghorn in a library. Theo stands behind a towering stack of books, sighing deep enough to rattle the ancient stone walls. “This isn’t a joke. If we choose wrong—if I choose wrong—we could end up killing the innocent twin.” The laughter dies away, replaced by a low tension that presses against my skull like an incoming tide. Every path feels twisted with shadows. The mirror’s riddle keeps spinning in my head—Nothing is what it seems. I run my fingers along the spine of an old herbal grimoire. My eyes catch the faint glint of the mirror again, propped up beside the stack I carried earlier. I wrapped it

Dominick warned, his hand hanging just behind her, ready to catch her if she fell. But Lisa didn’t fall. Instead, she walked right through the doorway, pulled by an invisible force, until she found herself in a small room. At the middle of the room stood an item, a mirror. It was large, framed in dark metal that glowed with a strange light. Lisa’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of it. This was it the mirror that had been spoken of in the old books. The mirror that showed the truth. She stepped closer, her reflection becoming crisper as she approached, but the picture wasn’t right. It was twisted, like a shadow stretching across her soul. Her eyes were darker, the color

My mother, Aileen Stuart, leaves me a bronze mirror upon her death. One day, I suddenly hear its thoughts. It says exasperatedly, "My naive child, Zara hid her brooch and blamed you for stealing it. And your stepmother? Her tricks are so banal. She rubbed pollen on your clothes, hoping you'd have an allergic reaction and become disfigured. They really are the perfect pair in household scheming. "Dead mother, philandering father, vicious stepmother, wicked idiot of a sister… What an unfortunate deck of cards you have been dealt with." With the mirror's guidance, I manage to carve out a place for myself in this household. One midnight, it wakes me from my sleep. "Jemima, your chance to

The law of spirits is not to interfere in human affairs without the permission of the master. “Please… Jamaica…” “Jamaica, help her.” My consciousness screams incessantly, here separating me from the outside world is a large, tall, sturdy mirror. I kept screaming and banging on that mirror. In response to a sound echoing from my impact, I stood up and kicked incessantly with my foot, until my shoes ripped open to reveal my toes. I used my hand again, this time I could no longer hear my cry or screams. The mirror is my eyes. I don't want to, I can't leave Irina alone, through the glass I see Irina has been injured by the other guy, I don't know how much time has passed, but the first ray of t

Roman’s presence didn’t extinguish it , it fueled it. “I feel nothing,” she said, the lie smooth on her tongue. Roman’s eyes darkened, and a faint, dangerous smile ghosted across his mouth. “Lies suit you.” He stepped around her, their reflections separating. The moment broke like glass. Roman stopped at the table beside the mirror. Crystal decanters lined its surface, glimmering with amber liquid. He poured two glasses without looking at her. “Do you know why mirrors are sacred in our history?” he asked, tone soft, conversational again. “Because they reveal what the flesh conceals. A mirror never lies.”