Broken Mirrors Novels & Stories

"If he’s cheating on me, I’ll have her head. I’ll kill them both." "Maria, wait," I said, but she wasn't listening. She was already limping toward the house, her emerald gown torn by the bushes. I looked down at the floor of the gazebo and saw something glinting in the moonlight. I picked it up. It was a small, silver pendant—a mirror-shaped charm. It was exactly like the one Diana wore. My heart dropped. The "Mirror of Malice" wasn't just a name for my marriage. It was a web, and we were all caught in it.

“I didn’t expect you to be the killer. It wasn’t enough that you killed your parents-in-law. Why did you have to kill my mother too?” I looked at the three of them. They all had the same reaction. I froze for a moment. How was that possible? A mirror was just a mirror. It showed whoever stood in front of it. How could it show my face no matter who looked into it? But their grief did not look fake. What was so strange about that mirror? How could it make my wife, my trainee, and my neighbor all believe I was the killer? “I didn’t kill your mother. It wasn’t me.”

The white-hot energy crackling along the crystalline edges bled off a heat so intense it began to warp the frozen, sterile air of the sanctuary. "They are visually tracking our movements through the flawless reflections of the glass floors," Malakor hissed, his violet eyes locking onto the mirrored surface beneath his boots. Every shift of his weight was mirrored a thousand times in the polished white depths. "They do not look at us—they look at our reflections to predict where our blades will land. Let us take away their mirrors."

“It’s deep memory. Not just what you remember, but what you could’ve been.” Jonas looked up. One mirror showed him covered in blood, weeping beside Maya’s broken body. Another—leading an army of tide-born, his arms branded with Sovereign sigils. “I hate this,” he muttered. Sefina pointed. “There’s a path.” Far in the distance—a bridge of fractured glass leading toward a single upright mirror. Black frame. No reflection. Maya nodded. “That’s the Maw’s core.” --- As they walked, the mirrors whispered more.

CHAPTER 179 — THE REFLECTION OF TRUTH MAYA POV Liam’s hand caught my arm before I could touch the mirror. “Don’t,” he said. But my eyes wouldn’t move away from it. The reflection didn’t blink. It just stared back at me with that calm, cold look—the same one Brandy wore when she lied. Behind us, the air hummed. The other mirrors were starting to shimmer too. Each one showed a different me. One smiling. One crying. One bleeding. One standing over Liam’s body.

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 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

The first crack was mine. The second belonged to the world. The central mirror juddered, fractured image stuttering: my snarling face smeared across a dozen shards, Corvin and Selene and Jax chopped into jigsaw pieces, the shadow behind us writhing like something pinned under glass. Then, all the other mirrors joined in. Panels along the walls flickered, their previously blank surfaces igniting with random scenes—half‑rendered worlds popping on and off like bad channels.

I replied as I made my way out of my room while buttoning my shirt. I managed to reach the coffee shop just in time to see a new manager at the place. She was nothing like Damon. Her name was Mira. When I met her, she was really nice to me and treated me like her little brother. She was in her 20's. All of my co-workers couldn't stop talking about how beautiful she was. I just stood in a corner and laughed at them when I saw their dejected faces. They were all head over heels for her, but as expected, she politely refused their initiatives to make up a conversation with her.

Then I pulled. The heavy fabric fell away in one sweeping motion. Dust exploded through the air. And the mirror— Awakened. I staggered back instinctively. The glass was not normal. Not reflective in any ordinary sense. At first, I saw only myself. Pale. Wide-eyed. Crowned. Frightened. But then— Silver fumes began moving beneath the surface. My blood ran cold. Not on the mirror. Inside it. Like smoke trapped beneath water. Swirling. Curling.