Novel & Cerita Michael Jackson Man In The Mirror Book

Jone Jackson POV "Look at all these scrolls from the Moonfang Chronicle," Jone Jackson says, staring down at the little dark stone tablet in his male hands while his fingers tap a fast, angry beat on the wooden table. "The pictures show my male body grabbing Michael Jackson and giving him a big kiss right in front of the whole assembly."

Knocks came from the bathroom and Alex’s lazy voice followed, “Clothes.” Candice put her phone down and brought the man his clothes. Before she could knock on the door, it opened from the inside. Alex stood before her, naked. Candice instinctively looked away. The man scoffed and said, “Which part haven’t you seen before? You’re shy now?” Candice kept her calm and said, “It’s better to keep things clear.” “Clear? For who?” Alex wore his pants but he tossed the shirt away. He dragged Candice into the shower and pressed her against the wall. There was a subtle sneer in his tone when he said, “Jackson is back and you’re trying to steer clear from me?”

He could also see that reflection from the full length mirror that stood in front of him against the wall. It was probably his third eye acting up again but what did this mean? His eyes, still fixated on the mirror, moved from the patch on the floor to the bed where he noticed something about the book. He stood up, approaching the mirror and that's when he saw it. The mirror gave a reflection of the book, showing it in reverse imaging thus Jake could see the pentacle in its upright position in the mirror. He turned away from the mirror to the book and grabbed it, slowly turning it the other way as the pentacle now appeared in its original position in the upright form.

' ✧────── ༉───✦───༉ ─────✧ Sometimes I think life is boring—that mine would be completely dull if I didn't have a secret one. Once I finish getting ready and look at my reflection in the mirror, all I see is a pretty, harmless girl. That's exactly how everyone sees me. —Come in. —I say after hearing two knocks on the door. —I don't think you should've gotten ready so soon. —Michael says while blatantly eyeing me from head to toe. —And why not? He moves behind me. I can see his reflection in the mirror getting closer, one of his hands slipping around my waist.

Brianna turned to the glass mirror. A man spoke through a microphone and confirmed Brianna's assumptions. Someone was behind that mirror. Although it only showed the reflections from inside the room, she was in. She knew within her that it was a two-way mirror. "I want you to pledge your loyalty to me. What do you say about that?" a manly voice in his middle ages answered Brianna. "You want my loyalty, but you are hiding behind the mirror?" she spoke with exceeding mockery. "Are you all as ugly as this one here next to me?"

The hot water provided a physical release, relaxing his tense muscles, but his mind remained a cauldron of seething anger. Steam enveloped the bathroom, a visual representation of the heated emotions coursing through Asher. In a fit of rage, he directed his anger towards a decorative mirror on the wall, pounding it again and again. The bathroom echoed with the sounds of shattered glass, a stark contrast to the calm facade Asher usually presented. This was not the person he wanted to be, and the realization fueled his frustration even more. All of this, he believed, was a consequence of Ezra's actions.

Adam glanced back down at the page, a faint smirk returning. “Man handled it though,” he murmured. “Didn’t panic, didn’t fumble it… just stayed in it.” He closed the book halfway again, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. “Still… that’s not for everybody,” he added. “Takes a certain kind of mindset to even step into something like that.” He looked at the cover for a second, then back at the pages. “This book really doesn’t miss,” he said under his breath. Then, without hesitation—

He walked closer to me and requested a dance. Somehow, I noticed myself freely granting his request like I was under some kind of trance or something, I tried staring at his eyes but his face was somehow blurred by what I could not understand. As we danced, I noticed none of our reflections was been spotted by any of the mirrors. ‘If he was some kind of ghost, at least my reflections should have been seen in the mirrors.’ I said to myself. After the dance, the man in the mirrors gave me a kiss on my forehead and suddenly the blur face and mask went off completely. I could see in front of me th e face of the man, the real man behing the mirror, It was no other than the Black Jackson. I wonder

Chapter 12: Do you want him to find us that easily Michael was hovering beside one sphere when Julia reached him. Close up the mirroring became transparent and you could see what was going on inside, even if it was a little misty. In this particular case a balding, fat, middle-aged man was surrounded by beautiful, mostly naked Las Vegas showgirls, complete with feathers and heavily exaggerated silicon breasts. Michael shook his head. "I hope I never start having dreams that tacky," he remarked, and then floated off toward another dreamscape.

Planting my hands on the mirror, I used it to push hard against him, almost breaking free. The man crowded my space, cocking his head and issuing a tsking sound. “Try that again and we’ll start all over.” Jesus. My mystery guest was having far too much fun with my discomfort, his eyes glistening as if on fire. “Now, be a good girl and plant those lovely hands of yours against the mirror again and open your long legs wider. Much wider.” He waited, lifting a single eyebrow as he fully anticipated I’d follow his harsh command. When I did involuntarily, another trickle of lust and shock tore through me.