Romans & histoires The Phantom Of The Opera: The Mirror

Every tree, every rock, every gust of wind seemed to whisper of dangers lurking just beyond the horizon. Lia’s wrist-mark had been flaring with more intensity over the past few days, the power within her growing stronger, and yet more volatile. The strange "Mirror Soul" ability—this gift, or curse—was becoming harder to control. Every time she replicated magic, it drained her energy, leaving her weak and vulnerable. But she couldn’t stop. The Heart of the Greykin was still out there, and it was the only hope for her people. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

The voice in the mirrors consistently kept calling out to me and would not stop but kept echoing all over again saying, ‘come, nearer my daughter, yes come to me darling. As the voice grew stronger, I could feel myself falling into a trance and being controlled by it, however this time I had to fight it off, but it was no easy a fight. The voice grew stronger and the more I sank into its trance the more I got absorbed to its darkness, but I kept fighting back the more. As I kept struggling with the trance and trying to resist my mind and body from further movement, I imagined if only I could get an object to shatter the damn mirrors to pieces, certainly an obsruction probably would occur. I

I close my eyes and fall into a variation of my usual nightmare. It’s quiet, too quiet. The only sounds are the soft patters of mouse paws skirting across wooden floorboards. I’m in the old slave holding cell from my childhood but I am, as I am now, an adult. I’m in my assassin outfit. There are slaves all around me, but they are frozen in time. Their mouths are agape as if they are afraid and their eyes are empty as if they’ve lost the will to live. Their forms are distorted into odd postures, some with their legs bent over their heads or an arm bent backwards against the joint and up. They don’t have hair or distinguishable faces, and they all wear the same rags I remember from my childhoo

Her hands became her only support for easy movement. Mark had his hands slip off Mila's shoulders as his legs moved him towards Ashley. He got her from the ground with his hands, holding her tightly to himself as his ears picked up the sound of her heavy breathing. up “The Phantom.!” She huffed, her chest moving inwards and outwards as she stuttered the words in the fear of the dreadful sight of the monster. As her eyes were fixed on her daughter who had her hands on her chest, she still couldn't get over what sight he had beheld as she still stared backward despite being moved forward.! It's coming..” Her voice was gradually becoming inaudible, and her energy was fading out slowly.

she repeated. Terry turned the dimmers to full. Fluorescents flared. The chamber sharpened: cables like veins, the Worm crouched and waiting, and—across the hall—a mural waking. Where soot had flaked, pigment breathed. The boy’s hands were lifted not in fear but offering; the Minotaur’s eyes had found a red no torch should give. Jessica swallowed whatever that did to her and stepped to the breach with Module 22 live. She aimed the tablet’s camera at the new edges, scanning for any carved line that hadn’t seen light in eighty years.

The Blood Mirror let out a piercing hum. The entire catacomb trembled. Cracks spiderwebbed across the ancient stone pillars. The candles flickered wildly, casting eerie shadows. "Impossible..." The elder backed away, shaking. "The mirror is moving on its own? This breaks all the ancient laws..." But the mirror was beyond anyone's control now. It ruthlessly drained my very last drops of blood. The crimson light was blinding. I could feel the last bit of warmth leaving my body, but at the same time, a twisted sense of satisfaction washed over me.

Blood pooling beneath her body. Ronan’s chest tightened violently. He could feel her pain again stronger this time. Like knives scraping across his ribs. “Stop it!” he roared. The laughter intensified. Suddenly one of the mirrors didn’t show an illusion. It showed reality. Scarlet, chained to a stone pillar. Head hanging. Barely conscious and behind her was the spirit, grinning. Ronan didn’t hesitate. He lunged straight into the mirror. It didn’t shatter. It swallowed him.

The lights flicked back on, momentarily stunning me with their brightness. I swept my eyes to Orion’s, expecting him to continue when something across the room captured my attention. There were mirrors along the walls. Hundreds of them, all wrapped in golden frames that caught the brunt of the twinkling light. Each one was the same size and shape—similar to that of a door. I suppose I should’ve been surprised when one started shimmering, the glass rippling as though it were water disturbed by an errant stone. With a snarl, Orion pushed me behind him. I peered around him, through the plumes of flame that engulfed his body, in time to see two forms emerged from a single mirror.

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.

The reflections moved on their own, whispering against the surface of the glass. Sera’s breath fogged. “What is this place?” Adrien’s jaw clenched, his golden eyes scanning every reflection. “Illusion.” His flames tried to flare, but the mirrors only multiplied the fire, warping it into monstrous shapes. A voice slithered through the air. Not illusion. Truth, The mirrors rippled. One reflection stepped forward, not just a mimic, but a full, breathing version of Adrien, breaking free from the glass with a crack like ice shattering. His double stood across from him, flames licking higher, golden eyes sharp and merciless.