The Smoking Mirror Chapter 1 Novels & Stories

“I didn’t expect you to be the killer. It wasn’t enough that you killed your parents-in-law. Why did you have to kill my mother too?” I looked at the three of them. They all had the same reaction. I froze for a moment. How was that possible? A mirror was just a mirror. It showed whoever stood in front of it. How could it show my face no matter who looked into it? But their grief did not look fake. What was so strange about that mirror? How could it make my wife, my trainee, and my neighbor all believe I was the killer? “I didn’t kill your mother. It wasn’t me.”

Inside, a fire burned in the hearth. A kettle steamed on the stove. And sitting at the table, waiting, was Mira. --- End of Chapter Sixty-Four.

Her friends said she had become obsessed with “the woman in the mirror.” That evening, as the sun set, I stood in front of the mirror again. This time, I spoke directly to it. “Who are you?” My reflection didn’t move at first. Then it slowly smiled, a smile I had never made. It raised a finger and wrote on the inside of the glass, the letters appearing backward so I could read them: **“I am what’s left when you look away.”** I smashed the mirror with a chair that night. The glass shattered into hundreds of pieces across the floor.

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.

Even though things are difficult and take some getting used to, I would rather live this life than not have your own identity. I look in the mirror with my mid-length haircut, sporting a huge nerdy glasses with an old dress to pair with. I can step outside my apartment and take deep breaths of fresh air. The other smell was freedom, or so I thought. ---Flashback ends--- ========================== Hello my awesome Readers Please go back to chapter 1-3 before you read the next chapter! Thank you and love you!

From my position, I can clearly see the entire living room since our house is just fairly small, but enough for 5 people under 5“7’. When I realized that the noise was not coming from behind but in front of me, a scream escaped my mouth as I felt myself being pulled INSIDE the mirror. MY GUTS ARE RIGHT THAT THIS WAS A WEIRD-ASS MIRROR!! I fought my mom to not buy this since it gives me the chills, but of course! You can never waste a good sale. After what felt like years of falling from nothing, I finally felt the impact of the ground on my back. I was actually expecting some ‘wobbly’ feeling while I was sucked into the mirror.

They stood opposite me as I studied the whole room, especially the sofa where I specifically ordered Nicolette to sit obediently. Then something caught my eye. I clenched my fists. “Where did you get that mirror?” I asked, turning to Yrra with a sharp stare but pointing my fingers to a circular mirror hung on a wall. I didn’t notice it earlier because it was behind some floating icicles. Blast it. She crossed her arms to her chest, appearing taken aback by my sudden outburst. “It is just a mirror, Lucien, very insignificant. Why are you pointing at it like it just committed a grave sin?”

I drew a breath and tilted the mirror toward me. The world around me faded, the way it always did. The flames dimmed. The shadows held their breath. The room seemed to melt away. For a moment – nothing. No visions. No ripples. Just my own reflection, pale and sleep deprived. The irony. And then – smoke. Curling at the edges. Like fog moving through a forest I couldn’t see. My breath caught. The mirror pulsed once. Shapes began to form – blurry outlines, hints of color.

POV: Afnan The chamber trembled violently. The walls of the Mirror Gate cracked and warped, flickering between reality and nightmare. My reflection hovered a few feet away, eyes sharper, movements more fluid, a perfect imitation of me, yet everything about it screamed danger. I staggered backward, barely catching myself as the floor rippled like water. My reflection smirked, a cruel twist of my own lips, and raised a hand. Instinct screamed at me to strike, to destroy it. But something deep inside whispered: You can’t fight yourself. Not here. Not now.

She was uncertain about how to confront the world if she were to lose Joe, the sole remaining person who loved her. - After lingering outside the hospital for an extended period, Candice finally succumbed to her cravings and purchased cigarettes from a nearby stand. Her hands trembled as she attempted to light a cigarette, her lack of experience evident in her struggle with the lighter. Awkwardly squatting near the stand, Candice persistently tried to light her cigarette. Each time she succeeded, her tears would extinguish it. By the time she managed to keep it lit, the cigarette had already burned down to half its length.