Mirror Poetry Novels & Stories

I remain silent during this process, still not sure what to think about this situation. “Oh, this isn’t good.” Axel exclaims, checking his phone. “I have an alert, the police are looking for a fugitive with telekinetic abilities who may be able to identify a high-risk Abnormal known as a ‘Mimic’.” He looks confused and turns to Myah, “Do you know what a Mimic is?” He asks. She doesn’t show any reaction but simply states; “I can’t think of anything relating to that, CC?” Myah looks towards her sister for a further response,

“If we redirect their attacks into the mirrors, maybe we can disrupt them!” As Logan’s clone sent a bolt of magic his way, he dodged at the last second, letting the spell hit a nearby mirror. The glass cracked, and the doppelgänger let out a shriek before flickering. “It’s working!” Ryan shouted. Mia quickly tricked her reflection into attacking a mirror, causing it to shatter. One by one, the clones began to fade as the mirrors cracked apart. Finally, only Anna’s reflection remained, staring at her with an unsettling gaze.

“So what do we do? If they’re showing us a mirror, if they’re reflecting our methods back at us… how do we respond without giving them more to use against us?” --- The answer came not in sound, but in vision. Reflections across shattered glass bent inward, merging into patterns we had not shaped. Shadows elongated unnaturally, forming arcs and spirals that pulsed with the same resonance as the hum. Every surface became part of a message, layered and precise. A sequence emerged: mirrored lines forming a circle within a circle, then collapsing into a single point. Vera gasped. “It’s… an invitation.” Ian narrowed his eyes. “Or a trap.”

Peter asked, adjusting the rear mirror. “Home? The mansion, whatever it’s called”.

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?"

QWEN I bet the mirror knows me better than anyone do. It always gave me the response I desired so much each time I stare into it. It displays me to me, and what exactly is the me she displays to me? An epitome of evil; hate and malice. Those are what the mirror in my massive room says of me each time I stand before it with my brazing red lipstick. Of course, I’m evil and it gives me pleasure.

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 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.

Not natural. The mirrors. All three of them turned to the field below the cliffs. The mirror shards were blooming again—thousands of them, stretching from the shoreline to the tree line. But this time, they didn’t reflect Elias. They reflected Yvette. Thousands of her faces, blinking in perfect unison. And smiling. --- The storm rolled in without mercy. Wind howled through the broken rafters of the farmhouse, hurling dust and salt into every crevice. Thunder roared above like the voice of something ancient and watching, and the mirror shards outside shivered violently in their beds of earth, reflecting chaos. The sky turned black.

The real one, pressed against the mirrored wall, confusion chasing pain in his eyes. The imposter, closer. Not mirrored. Planed and sharpened. He held something between us: a silver vial, blood. Of me. “I know you,” he said, lips curling in a predator’s smile. “But do you?” Real Julian lunged. I screamed, and he vanished. I was alone with the imitation. “Why?” The word tore out of me. He smiled wider. “You find your strength in fighting your reflection.” The mirrored wall behind him rippled again. A still image, Aria and Julian, laughing. Their perfect slice of life reflected in frozen glass.