House Of Mirrors Haunting Adeline の小説・ストーリー

I yelled, holding my head from splitting apart. All this while, she knew who she was. She knew she was Mira. Slowly my brain processed it all. She manipulated me. “No no no”. I sobbed, trying to convince myself otherwise. “She loved me” I tried to convince but it want sinking. “She never lost her memory” I whispered to myself. —Flashback— “I cleaned the boys quarters and took a tour around my husband’s house”. —-end of flashback—- “Ahhhh” I yelled again. “She knew all along”. I cried.

XAVIERA I stood before the large mirror in Adeline's room, stunned by the amazing creature who stared right back at me. The last time I had seen her was over five years ago, the night of the Red festival. The next day, she was gone, as had everyone who used to know her. I hadn't seen her since then. However, she showed up again tonight, a little older now, more comely, still sophisticated, and gorgeously adorned in beautiful fabric, jewelleries and a perfect hairdo.

Adeline’s pov I tried not to cry again. This was something my tear ducts were used to, it was almost a routine to watch it dry up and so I sucked in the tears and thought happy thoughts. Thoughts that comprised of the good old earlier days. Looking back to the sequence of events which brought me to that house of brooding mystery, of sinister undercurrents and disturbing echoes. I sat on a wooden bench I had found as I became lost in thought all alone in the darkness.

It wasn’t confirmed yet, but in our world, it wasn’t impossible either, especially when that man made a deal with the devil or was the devil himself. We ended the day. Hendrix and Hunt went back to their work while we drove back to the pack house after we made sure that Milka was fully recovered. She was supposed to go home, but she insisted on coming with me. I thought it was because she wanted me to come to her when I was pulled into Kaiser’s world, but I was wrong. “I saw you, Adeline,” she said after I closed the door when we entered my room. “What?” I asked, “I saw you standing next to the man who was found dead at your border.”

She smirked before they vanished into thin air. The house was dark. The curtains were closed. Doors and windows were shut. The aura was silent. His lips parted and the candles in the living room lit up in yellow flames revealing him and Iago DeAndre. The warlock and the vampire pay their last tribute to Lorene Havel. Edmond was holding a candle so was Iago. They were standing opposite each other. Tears were streaming down Edmond's eyes. He couldn't take in the pain. It was the exact pain he felt when he lost his wife and his daughters. Regret and agony.

The waist-high full-length mirror wobbled for quite a while, capturing the reflection of Candice in its unsteady gaze. The mirror reflected her pale face, a slender neck, and clothes that used to fit well but now appeared loose on her. Candice stared at the seemingly lifeless woman in the mirror, shocked. Her pupils trembled uncontrollably, and she instinctively reached out to touch the reflection in the mirror. Was this really her? Why did she look so terrible? She didn’t feel sick, but she looked awful. Candice stood in front of the mirror for a long time, trying to understand her current appearance and the reasons behind the change.

I only knew it, the same as I'd known with the dying wolf in the woods. "Let me try," I heard myself say. The old Healer coughed from the floor, clutching his ribs. "Try? Girl, I have forty years in the craft and I couldn't hold him. You'll be dead before you reach the middle of the room." But Adeline was in the doorway now, both hands pressed white against her mouth, and her eyes were only on her son. Whatever else that woman was, the terror on her face was real. "Let her try," she whispered. "Please. Let her."

“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.”

Out of curiosity, I turned to the small mirror near the door. At first, I saw myself with wet hair, wide scared eyes, and a pale face. The light blinked so fast again. And for a second, someone stood behind me in the mirror, not in the room. Only in the mirror, and watching me. Dark suit, blood rolling down his face, grey eyes. “Adrian Vale.” I screamed and spun around, but no one was there, an empty room. I looked back at the mirror, and he was still there. I was so terrified.