Smoke In Mirrors Novels & Stories

I murmured, “but the fire still burns.” I looked at the cracked mirror one last time, at my reflection bending inside it. My eyes burned silver in the dim light. “And this time,” I said softly, “I’ll teach it my name.”

I slip the phone back into my coat and light a cigarette, even though I quit years ago. The flame flickers against my fingers, trembling. I inhale deep. The smoke burns my throat, fills my lungs, anchors me. My reflection stares back at me in the side mirror, eyes darker than the city behind them. I look like the man I swore I’d stopped being. Maybe I never stopped. Maybe the peace talk was always a lie. The cigarette tip glows red against the dark, like a dying heartbeat. And as I flick the ash into the night, I know one thing for certain, This was only the beginning.

In that borrowed moment I reached the signal post and climbed. The mirror was cracked across its face, but two large pieces still clung to the frame. I angled the largest toward the southeast—toward the direction of Crimson Hollow’s outer watch towers—and poured a thin, controlled stream of silver fire into the glass. The flash that left the mirror was brief and searing. Whether anyone would see it, I could not know. Horns rose on three sides of the meadow. They had me surrounded on the open ground.

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.

~Rubel~ "Do you think I am ready to have someone like him in my life?" Standing in front of a long mirror, I glanced through the reflection, sharing my self-sabotaging thoughts with my best friend. "Maybe he feels the same way," Anna replied as she inhaled the minute particles from the cancer stick, holding it in her lungs while pointing the rolled nicotine paper at me. Rolling my eyes, I glared at her as smoke rolled from her lips in circles.

It was not intended but it just happened but unfortunately for me, it does not want to leave my memory. I tostada my mirror and stare knot the mirror with my face contorted in rage and anger. I place my right hand on the wall and Continue gawking into my reflection in the mirror. My heart is pounding very heavily and trust me, I wish it is not. There is a cigar pack that is lying on the drawer under the mirror. I pick it up and remove one stick which I fix on my lips. I drag out my lighter from my left pocket and light the cigar at the tip. I puff out smoke from my mouth after whiffing it. My head is even boiling the more after the taste of the cigar in my mouth.

The White Queen gathered the black smoke and tried her hardest to seal it onto the ball itself. The black smoke materialised to pick up the form of the black witch, and she turned to laugh in a horrific voice. The smoke spoke, "How are you, Mira...? Hope you are dry." The white queen asked, "What do you want...?" The smoke replied, "Ha... What do I want? I crave an act of revenge. I preferred to destroy everything you possessed. I want to wind everything into ashes. I want to see your tears like I was moaning about it for years."

he said. The mirrors trembled violently as the reflection screamed and clutched its face in horror. “No! That is not allowed! You can’t smile unless you wait!” The glass cracked; one by one, the mirrors began to break apart. Camela held onto her smile through her tears and whispered fiercely, “I hate promises. I hate waiting. And I hate you.” The last mirror broke and exploded into shards of white light. Silence enveloped the atmosphere. Camela gasped for air, her chest throbbing with pain. Vincent pulled her close against him, his voice dropping low with awe.

Later that night, as darkness enveloped the Mirabella Estate, Autumn found herself transfixed by her reflection in the antique mirror hanging in her room. The glass fogged gently around the edges, but her reflection remained clear and sharp, an eerie contrast. Just as the image began to wane, it revealed a chilling sight—a smile, wide and inexplicable, unfurled across her mirrored self.

In the dark confines of Sharon's expensive office, the ambiance was electric with smug satisfaction. Sharon leaned back in her chair, a smug smirk playing on her lips as she swirled the glass of red wine in her hand. Facing her, Eva sat perched on the edge of the desk, her legs crossed, an equally sinister grin carved across her face. Our little problem, Olivia, is finally out of the way," Sharon said, her voice dripping with malice. "I have to admit, the execution was