Reflection A Twisted Tale Novels & Stories

He told me that he’ll be eating with Lissy today and he knew I couldn’t eat properly when they were both in front of me. Before I left the lecture hall, I first took my hand mirror from the bag. I looked at my reflection and there I saw dark circles beneath my eyes. I need to put on make-up or concealer. I also need to go on a diet because my cheeks are bulging again. As I was walking to the cafeteria, I met Aunt Mirae. I waved quickly and approached her. "Aunt, I miss you. Are you looking for Aziel?" I excitedly beamed while giving her a peck on her cheeks. She shook her head at my question.

Black. Twisted together. A shape that isn’t fully formed, but whose purpose is brutally clear. A lock, at last, has been closed. Not sealed, like it should be. But chosen. Her knees give out. She slumps to the cold marble floor. “This was never meant to awaken,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “Not like this.” The last mirror goes. Shattered. Every single one lies in pieces. --- The Deep Courts—Beneath the Old World

That was the only way one of her characters had once escaped the castle’s cruelty. But as she dragged herself forward, her reflection reached from beneath the floor and pulled her backward. “No… please don’t…” Willa begged. Her reflection smiled, its eyes gleaming with delight. “Yes… Yes,” it whispered back. Without warning, it twisted, forcing Willa to stand on her wounded legs. “Ahhh!” she cried, tears streaming down her face. No matter how she tried to bend, kneel, or collapse, her reflection wouldn’t let her. It made her stand and suffer.

She tossed me a suspicious look, but went to the restroom regardless. ______________________________________ Ramara : Geoff was right. My lipstick faded. I guess I didn't apply enough. I had to wait in line for almost twenty minutes. I set my purse on the counter and twisted open my lipstick and frowned. This lipstick wasn't shiny before. Still, I applied it and I knew lipstick wasn't supposed to taste salty. It wasn't supposed to smell like musk either. It suddenly hit me. The bastard. That was what he did those two minutes in the car? Jerked off on my lipstick? I closed my lip stick and stormed out of the bathroom, apologizing to a lady I almost slammed into.

"Braver than you've ever been. She chose redemption over revenge. Chose love over hate. That's why she's the hero and you're the villain." "Hero?" Mirabel's face twisted. "She was a whore who gave up her daughter! Just like I gave up Brad! We're the same!" "You're nothing alike," Lucy said firmly. "Margaret felt guilt. Remorse. She tried to make things right. You've never felt guilty about anything. You're a monster, Mirabel. And monsters don't get happy endings." Mirabel's finger tightened on the trigger. Morris raised his weapon, but he was too far away for a clean shot.

I feel like I am looking at a woman who I do not even know anything about. It suddenly feels so strange to look at my reflection. I could see the pain, exhaustion, hatred, regrets and the broken soul. All of it were screaming at my face, desperate to be heard. My heart clenched repeatedly the longer I stared at myself. Tears were running down my face, painting the dark soul with a wrecked blue crystals. I gritted my teeth. This is all my fault. I let him do that. I did not fight. I was to weak. I was worthless. I want nothing right now but to disappear in the depth of darkness. I want to be just forgotten. I want to end the pain...

A cold shiver ran down my spine, and I yanked my hand away. It was his doing. Cassian’s doing. I stumbled back, my breathing shallow, rapid. My feet felt like they were stuck in tar. My vision swam. Was this real? Was I losing myself? My reflection was still there, still mocking me, still smiling in that grotesque way, like a twisted version of myself. A reflection that wasn’t mine, but that also was. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the image was burned into my mind. “What’s happening to me?”

“If I speak plainly, you will curse me. If I speak in riddles, you will fear me. But truth lies not in what you understand…it lies in what you deny.” “You’re hiding something. She’s cursed, isn’t she? Explain to me and stop with this riddles!” “You are the mirror,” he growled in his throat, lifting one of her breast and licking her hardened bud. Davouring the sweetness, he ran his tongue in a circular motion as electrical sparks shot from Vythea nipple to her vagina. “She is the reflection. You will show me what the reflection cannot hide.” “Ohh. Fuck…Malakh!” Vythea threw her head back.

My puppet-strings twitched behind me, but in the glass, they coiled tighter, strangling my mirrored body. Madison’s reflection fractured into dozens of pieces, each one pulling in a different direction. Ian’s reflection grinned wider than he ever had, teeth sharp, eyes blazing. Vera’s lay curled on the ground, shaking. Stepbrother’s cracked form splintered, fissures spreading until it was barely whole. Ian whistled. “Not exactly flattering, is it?” Stepbrother’s voice was cold, flat. “This is psychological warfare. The reflections are tailored weaknesses. To step onto this surface is to risk assimilation.”

Around him, the others reeled, their forms stretched and fragmented like reflections seen in broken glass. The ground itself was a mirror—endless, seamless, reflecting them not once, but a thousand times. Each reflection was wrong: Mira’s mirrored selves all wept blood; Doran’s reflections smiled cruelly, their axes dripping with gore; Selene’s doubles whispered to each other with forked tongues. Talia’s mirrors flickered between a child and a corpse. And Kael—Kael’s reflections were chained. Every one of them bound, dragged by shadows into pits without end.