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Authors: R.K. Ryals
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red curls. There
was blood around my mouth, and I swiped at it with the tail of my shirt before
pushing upward carefully. The pain was ridiculous, but sitting still actually
made it worse.
I should have felt better by now, but I
knew the ring was probably already aware of its mistake and was attempting to
purge Luther's blood. We weren't bound, so the pain wasn't as bad as it had
been when Marcas ' blood had been ripped from my
system, but it still hurt. I staggered forward, my gaze on the pale, short
figure in the looking glasses surrounding me and I grimaced.
"Seriously?" I asked as I
threw my hands up in the air.
Mirrors. What the hell
was I supposed to do with a room made out of freaking mirrors? I walked
forward, my gait slow and awkward as I breathed through the nausea. When this
was all over, I wanted a week of sleep, coffee, sweets, and a huge black
garbage bag full of dumdums.
" Marcas !" I yelled, turning slowly as I
approached the wall.
I paused, staring at myself, at the
green-eyed girl who had changed so much over the past month or so. I reached
out tentatively. There had to be a way out of this room. Was one of the mirrors
a door?
I touched the image in front of me and
gasped when the glass rippled out from my touch, like water.
"Jesus!"
Was this the way through? I began to
reach out again, but dropped my hand when a voice moved through the room.
"NO!" it yelled, and I knew it
was Marcas . I stumbled backward, my hand on my
stomach as I pressed at the place where the pain hurt the worst.
" Marcas !" I yelled back.
My heart was in my throat, and I looked
around desperately, but all I could see was myself .
"Get out of here, Blainey !" he yelled.
He was depersonalizing me. He only
called me Blainey when he was trying not to feel
attached, and anger consumed me. I was not leaving without him. If he could
sacrifice himself, then I could do the same.
I marched over to another mirror,
reaching out just as carefully as I had before and tapped the glass. It
rippled, and I stared as the reflection started to piece itself together again.
"Don't!" I heard Marcas shout, but my eyes were locked on the mirror and
what I saw made my breath hitch.
The reflection that formed wasn't me. It
was Lexi , Luther's Demonic twin sister who I had
killed back in Italy. Her teeth were bared, and she was looking at me, her eyes
filled with accusation. Guilt pressed in on me, and I fisted my hand against my
mouth. I looked away, my eyes traveling to the other mirror I had touched. Its
reflection was different now too. It was Damon, his eyes red, his finger
crooked, motioning for me to come to him. I backed away.
"What is this?" I shouted.
"The mirrors are made to break you,
to show you images of everything you fear. Everything you regret."
Marcas wasn't shouting
now, but I could still hear him. His voice echoed, and I couldn't pinpoint it.
"How do I find you?" I asked.
"You don't," he said.
"Only one mirror in this room will not move. It's a gateway. But it's not
worth it."
He was wrong. It was more than worth it,
and I wasn't Dayton Blainey for nothing. My
stubbornness kept me at the Abbey and got me bound to Marcas .
Now he was stuck with me.
I moved to another mirror, this one on
the opposite side of the room, and I tapped it before I had a chance to chicken
out. The surface rippled, and I groaned as the image changed. It was Lilith.
She was inside my head, and I could hear her tempting promises, the promises of
happiness, of safety. I backed away.
"Dayton," I heard Marcas say wearily, but I ignored him and touched another
mirror.
It moved , transforming to reveal the fire pits of Hell, the roaming, tortured souls
yelling so loudly that I had to cover my ears with my hands as I backed away. I
was on my knees now, crawling to the next mirror. Damon was begging me to come
to him, Lexi was accusing me of murder, Lilith was
whispering silky temptations, and the souls of Hell were begging me to save
them.
A tear
was blood around my mouth, and I swiped at it with the tail of my shirt before
pushing upward carefully. The pain was ridiculous, but sitting still actually
made it worse.
I should have felt better by now, but I
knew the ring was probably already aware of its mistake and was attempting to
purge Luther's blood. We weren't bound, so the pain wasn't as bad as it had
been when Marcas ' blood had been ripped from my
system, but it still hurt. I staggered forward, my gaze on the pale, short
figure in the looking glasses surrounding me and I grimaced.
"Seriously?" I asked as I
threw my hands up in the air.
Mirrors. What the hell
was I supposed to do with a room made out of freaking mirrors? I walked
forward, my gait slow and awkward as I breathed through the nausea. When this
was all over, I wanted a week of sleep, coffee, sweets, and a huge black
garbage bag full of dumdums.
" Marcas !" I yelled, turning slowly as I
approached the wall.
I paused, staring at myself, at the
green-eyed girl who had changed so much over the past month or so. I reached
out tentatively. There had to be a way out of this room. Was one of the mirrors
a door?
I touched the image in front of me and
gasped when the glass rippled out from my touch, like water.
"Jesus!"
Was this the way through? I began to
reach out again, but dropped my hand when a voice moved through the room.
"NO!" it yelled, and I knew it
was Marcas . I stumbled backward, my hand on my
stomach as I pressed at the place where the pain hurt the worst.
" Marcas !" I yelled back.
My heart was in my throat, and I looked
around desperately, but all I could see was myself .
"Get out of here, Blainey !" he yelled.
He was depersonalizing me. He only
called me Blainey when he was trying not to feel
attached, and anger consumed me. I was not leaving without him. If he could
sacrifice himself, then I could do the same.
I marched over to another mirror,
reaching out just as carefully as I had before and tapped the glass. It
rippled, and I stared as the reflection started to piece itself together again.
"Don't!" I heard Marcas shout, but my eyes were locked on the mirror and
what I saw made my breath hitch.
The reflection that formed wasn't me. It
was Lexi , Luther's Demonic twin sister who I had
killed back in Italy. Her teeth were bared, and she was looking at me, her eyes
filled with accusation. Guilt pressed in on me, and I fisted my hand against my
mouth. I looked away, my eyes traveling to the other mirror I had touched. Its
reflection was different now too. It was Damon, his eyes red, his finger
crooked, motioning for me to come to him. I backed away.
"What is this?" I shouted.
"The mirrors are made to break you,
to show you images of everything you fear. Everything you regret."
Marcas wasn't shouting
now, but I could still hear him. His voice echoed, and I couldn't pinpoint it.
"How do I find you?" I asked.
"You don't," he said.
"Only one mirror in this room will not move. It's a gateway. But it's not
worth it."
He was wrong. It was more than worth it,
and I wasn't Dayton Blainey for nothing. My
stubbornness kept me at the Abbey and got me bound to Marcas .
Now he was stuck with me.
I moved to another mirror, this one on
the opposite side of the room, and I tapped it before I had a chance to chicken
out. The surface rippled, and I groaned as the image changed. It was Lilith.
She was inside my head, and I could hear her tempting promises, the promises of
happiness, of safety. I backed away.
"Dayton," I heard Marcas say wearily, but I ignored him and touched another
mirror.
It moved , transforming to reveal the fire pits of Hell, the roaming, tortured souls
yelling so loudly that I had to cover my ears with my hands as I backed away. I
was on my knees now, crawling to the next mirror. Damon was begging me to come
to him, Lexi was accusing me of murder, Lilith was
whispering silky temptations, and the souls of Hell were begging me to save
them.
A tear
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