I was staring into a large mirror, its frame made of slick, black metal curled up in different shapes, the edges pointy and sharp as the knife that was injected to me just minutes ago. Or was it a decade?
The mirror has been showing the same image for hours, or maybe even years now. I couldn't tell, the place I was in, belonged in, was timeless. There was no time or space, no signs of reality. I didn't call it any name, simply because there wasn't need for one. It didn't matter. Just like my very own existence.
My skin was the same, and so were my face and the eyes way too big compared to other of my features. But the bones were colder, the muscle nonexistent. The blood, supposed to be flowing in my veins, just wasn't there. I wondered if when I would touch my arm, I would disappear. I didn't try it- it was a natural instinct after all, to not put your own life in danger- but I knew that if I did, it would really be the end for her. Not me, because that thing in the mirror wasn't me. It was her
I was actually tempted to do it. At least I would save myself from looking at the mirror in front of me for unmoving hours. It was the only thing I has ever seen while being in the nameless world. The mirror and tight black fog. I didn't even dare to move, considering the options. The fog could be possibly poisonous or some kind of trap. I moved, I died. Simple enough to me, yet effective. Or at least it would've been.
I outstretched my hand. The bony, small fingers reached the glass, running my sharp fingernails on the surface. It left vibrant scratches, destroying the once beautiful glass. The mirror itself may have been alluring, but the image was not. I noticed my lips were still stained of blood, and small droplets were falling from my lower lip, hitting the ground with ringing sound as if made of glass. The very moment the droplet hit the ground, it was already a little crystal that broke into million pieces, crashing.
Then, sharp pain tugged on my scalp, and I opened my mouth to yell. There was no sound. No words coming out of my mouth. My hand fell back, hanging limp on the side of my body. When I wanted to move my fingers, or what was left of them, my body wasn't listening to me. My brain, still in function, screamed in agony. I was suffocating, despite having my mouth still open. My lungs just wouldn't fill, and with the lack of oxygen, I was lost.
My eyes widened, and I took a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair was pulled and then the force let go, then tugged again. With each tug, it transformed. It was suddenly everywhere, and in the same time nowhere. It was changing substances, textures. My face was twisting, and god it hurt so much. After what seemed like years, I felt pain. Strong, sharp pain that crashed like waves in my entire body. My lips were stretching, breaking, bleeding strange black liquid. My eyes were falling out of their sockets, my skin opened and my guts were squishing out, baring to the dim light. Everything that was happening, I saw in the mirror like a live show.
My hands were suddenly longer, than shorter, the bones cracking under the pressure. I felt it in every cell of my body. My legs were bending and twisting, but not to my will. My will was powerless, broken, shattered into million pieces, just like my fingernails that were falling to the ground, replaced by blood and meat. With my mouth still open in soundless agony, I watched with open eyes. I didn't look away.
It stopped.
It stopped.
And what was left of me was barely a human being. It was what I truly looked like, what I was supposed to look like. Black eyeballs with no irises, no visible pupils. My lips were nonexistent, instead leaving pale, ragged skin. The hair on my head was just few, large looking dreads that were just a tangled mess of what was left of my once glorious locks. My whole body was covered in blood and guts, yet I didn't feel any pain anymore. My limbs were painfully twisted, hanging by my sides.
I stared at myself, and fell to my knees in despair that suddenly filled me. I watched my fingernail-less hands, bones shining through where my unnaturally pale skin and muscles were missing.
Was this how I looked when I died?
No, the eyes weren't mine. The eyes weren't mine, and they didn't even remotely resemble me. Nothing did.
This was how I looked as a corpse.
This was how my family found me, in the forest buried in a shallow grave. This was when they screamed for help, this was where they found out I was lost forever, bended to the will of my killer. This was why I died.
How I died.
I rested my forehead on the glass of the mirror. I closed my eyes. I didn't want to see myself anymore (the eyes weren't mine) I didn't want anyone to see me (they weren't mine) I didn't want to think of myself (it wasn't ME!)
I fell right into the glass, hoping to shatter it to pieces.
I floated right through.
[Author's note
I am sorry to interrupt you my dear reader, but I just want to clarify some things…
1st: this story won't be sunny and pretty all the time, and you should be prepared for at least some gore before you enter more chapters.
2nd: this OC is more of an antagonist, which means she won't be able to satisfy anyone's need for justice… more so, she would be a awful person in a realistic way. But the built-up will be more on the slow side, because I want her to have a reason to be the way she is.
3rd: she will get quite insufferable, but this is from the first point of view, so please, don't get whatever I write that's not the dialogue as an info set in stone. I am representing what's happening in her head, so half of the info will be just her twisted truth.
4th: I need a beta, so if anyone would sacrifice themselves, I would be really welcome
5th: If you decided to stick with me till the end… well, hats down to you, mister (or mistress, gender's a bitch)
