Through The Looking Glass Characters Novels & Stories

Chapter 11: Through the Looking Glass Anna’s breath caught as she plunged into the mirror’s rippling surface. The sensation was disorienting—like falling through icy water, the air sucked from her lungs as a weightless pull dragged her deeper. She landed hard on something soft but solid. Gasping, she sat up and took in her surroundings. The ground beneath her hands was covered in shimmering silver grass, and towering trees with metallic bark stretched toward a kaleidoscopic sky.

After walking for what felt like a while, he finally saw some people eating inside a place though a glass. “Oh, thank Almighty,” he praised and hastily walked across the street but then a bright light fell on him and he glanced at it and to his surprise, it was the looking glass thingy. He frowned, how was it moving? He was sure that the one he touched was unalive and even now, he could still sense that there was no form of life in the one charging at him.

Every step I took, the figures in the glass mimicked me—but always with a delay, like they were walking moments behind. They weren’t me. They were versions of me that never grew up. That died in fear. Trapped in the wedding night that never came. And all of them… were smiling. --- One of the mirrors to my right suddenly shattered—not with sound, but with a rush of wind and shadow. From the broken glass crawled a child—not the girl I had freed. Older. Darker. Her eyes were voids. Her limbs too long for her frame. “Did you think she was the only soul ever traded?” she whispered, her voice ringing like funeral bells.

And looked at everyone, "Told you my friends are waiting for me. Let me out." Looking through glass acts as a touch screen on electronic devices. When Mrtyu found two men in suits talking to each other in the garden area, she touched the glass. She was surprised to watch their conversation in zoomed view as if she was hearing their conversation with them. "That’s Mr Alex and (her green eyes sharpened) Ron."

Direct look through the glass. I could see her face clearly. She was looking right at us. Through the clear glass, our eyes met, mine wide with terror, hers casual and unseeing, and time stopped as I waited for recognition to dawn, for her to see what I knew she was seeing, for the moment that would destroy us both.

There is a huge mirror in one corner of the room resembling Klara’s and to it’s left has a three foot tall wooden table on which a 360 degree spectacles holder rack is placed. Hmm….here are the traitors. These glasses are the ones who deceives the spectators making them believe that Lucas is a decent man but in reality he’s anything but good. She rolled her eyes at the glasses holder and wandered around boldly as she took slow steps deeper into the room and finally landed her eyes on his bed.

The other side of the chasm was reflected on the little piece of glass and she saw what she thought was weird for a second. There was nothing on the other side of the chasm. The floor heaved and she clutched the walls and squinted harder, scrutinising the empty space. When she looked directly, The Seeker was right there, a wicked smile on her lips as she took in the ongoing destruction. She looked into the broken glass again, at the empty space where the Seeker should be standing and she confirmed that there was nobody there at all. It was an illusion.

_Alina's POV_ The stairs led to a small, dimly lit room, and as I stepped inside, the air seemed to grow heavier. The only thing in the room was a large, ornate mirror standing in the center. Its frame was made of dark wood, intricately carved with symbols that mirrored the ones I had seen throughout the maze. The glass itself was clear, but there was something about it that made me uneasy. It wasn’t just a reflection—it was more than that.

The Hayle family didn't have the market on horseshoes cornered, it seemed. Two long corridors later, more stone, more tall, thin windows, more black carpet, and Sebastian closed the door on a chamber flanked by two of Pannera's vampires, cutting them off and leaving us alone. Charlotte's face morphed back to human, though her eyes still held the wolf as she began a systematic snuffling around every corner and piece of furniture in what looked like a sitting room, vaulted fireplace black from centuries of flame. I watched her with worry while Sunny stepped forward and hugged me.

I reached the desk and touched the journal. The moment my ink-fingers touched the paper, the room changed. The red light vanished, replaced by a cold, clinical white. The girl’s bedroom walls didn't dissolve; they turned into **Glass**. Outside the glass, I saw thousands of people. They weren't "Shareholders" in gold suits. They were normal people. Teachers, students, parents, workers. They were all holding books. They were all reading. And they were all reading **Her**. "She's not the Reader," I realized, the horror dawning on me. "She’s a character too. She’s the 'Reader' in a story about someone who reads."