Mirror Demons Novels & Stories

The surface of the mirror begins to ripple, distorting our images even more than before until they slowly begin to fade to gray, which is then replaced with blackness. “Merlin Devona Alestra Avalonia..” she finishes then turns to me. “Mirrors are a type of portal,” she explains. “Not as good as shadows, which fall between light and dark where reality is fuzzy and easily changed, but still good. When we see ourselves in the mirror, it is us but not us, another not-quite-there space. A “tween” space.” "What happens next?" I'm shaking now, struggling to keep myself here, present and not screaming. "What do I need to do?"

Only the central altar remained, cracked but unbroken, standing at the heart of a spiral marked in dark stone. Aria approached, the Moonstone fragment glowing brighter now. As she stepped into the center of the spiral, the world shifted again. A hum rose from the earth. And in the air above the altar, a shimmer began to form. It coalesced into a shape—glass-like, floating. A mirror. The mirror. Fractured, just like in her visions. Each shard flickered with light and images—different versions of herself. A girl laughing beside her parents. A warrior drenched in blood. A queen with a crown made of thorns. A mother. A murderer. A martyr.

The mirror abruptly exploded. I want to move but couldn’t. In my eyes everything seemed in slow motion. I could clearly see the demon pretending to be my reflection through the shattered mirror in the air. A pointed shard of the demon’s grin was flying in my direction. Its sharp tip was pointing out to my eyes. “Serra!” Dad yelled.

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.

It had not been there yesterday. "This mirror was never here before," Nyra breathed, stepping forward on unsteady feet. Selene’s hand closed around her arm. "It reflects… something else." Ryker chuckled, but it was hollow. "Looks like trouble." Kaelan’s amber eyes narrowed. "It pulses with void magic." At her command, guards formed a cautious circle, yet none dared touch the frame. The mirror’s surface shimmered, and Nyra’s reflection blurred. For a heartbeat, she saw herself, only her eyes burned silver, her lips curled in cruelty.

"But there's something else you should know. About what happens when both bloods fully merge." Lucian doesn't want to hear it. But he needs to. "Tell me," Lucian says. Jasper sets the journal aside. Walks to a locked chest in the corner. Opens it with a key from around his neck. Inside, wrapped in oiled cloth, lies a mirror. Not silver like Thane's. This one looks like black glass. Obsidian, polished to impossible smoothness. "Vampire glass," Jasper says. "Shows truth that normal mirrors hide. My father used it to track his own deterioration."

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.

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 mirror towered before her, its surface swirling with an otherworldly energy. Taking a steadying breath, Amelia stepped forward, her reflection mirroring her movements in perfect synchronization. As she approached the mirror, the surface rippled like water, revealing scenes from her past, present, and possible futures. Each reflection showed a different path, a different outcome, but only one was the truth she sought.

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.