Dia sighed in relief as she stepped beneath the antique shower head, already relaxing as the comforting warmth of water washed her stresses away. She ran her hands gently through her long raven locks as a smile came to her face. It was the first one she'd sported since stepping foot in this rundown mansion, a thought that sent her face into a frown once more.
One week ago, Mari had declared her intent to buy this aged property for renovation and conversion into a luxury hotel, and had arranged for a private inspection of the house. As her girlfriend and secretary, Dia was bound to assist.
But as soon as they entered the rundown mansion, Mari began treating the endeavor like a vacation, as if they weren't there to appraise the old building for possible renovation. Instead of carefully inspecting each room to draw out its true potential and pick out its flaws, the blonde practically ran amok, throwing open doors recklessly and marveling at the antique layout. With how carefree Mari had been, it fell to Dia to pick up the slack.
Despite the occasional creaking floor and a crumbling exterior, the mansion was decently kept and its amenities still functioned, a fact that Dia was grateful for. Still, there was something about this place that discomforted her.
She thought back to that morning, when she and Mari had first arrived in the old seaside village. The eyes of the townsfolk had followed their van almost hypnotically as it lumbered up the long and winding road towards the isolated manor. Initially, Dia had simply believed the interest to be that of curiosity regarding the possibility of new neighbors. Now though. after spending an afternoon inspecting the slumbering mansion, she wasn't so sure.
The atmosphere was welcoming enough, but she found she couldn't get used to the occasional moan of wood settling upon itself, the intermittent flickering of the electric lighting, or the strange inexplicable breezes that carried naught but cold. Certainly the mansion was old, and degradation of wiring and insulation was normal. Dia knew this. She had expected it even before they entered. Yet the ravenette just... couldn't justify it to her heart.
The storm raging outside didn't help either. On the journey over there hadn't been a cloud in the sky, but as soon as they set foot inside the mansion it was a veritable downpour, with billowing black clouds blocking out the sun as thunder and lightning lashed against the windows.
There was something fluttering in her stomach, something raw, something primal, that told her this was not normal. But what? Why?
Suddenly the lights went out.
As the room was plunged into a shadowy abyss, Dia couldn't help but feel a chill in the air that was most definitely not there before. She inched closer to the shower head, reassured by the water's warmth. She took a deep breath. "This is an old building," Dia muttered to herself, "The lighting was going to give out sooner or later."
Putting a cap on her panic before it could begin, Dia busied herself with washing her body, her eyes closed as she focused on applying the soapy suds of her shampoo on her long and luscious locks of hair. She even started humming a tune as she rinsed, completely oblivious to what was coming.
Then the lights miraculously came back on, and Dia looked down at herself only to realize in horror that she was washing herself with blood.
Mari's footsteps echoed down the empty hallway as the blonde explored the mansion's top floor, stopping as she came to the small bedroom at the end of the hall. She opened the door slowly, peering in with curiosity to find a bedroom that looked much like all the others she'd seen. Sighing, the blonde stepped inside to examine the room more thoroughly.
With Dia in the shower, that meant Mari had little to entertain herself with, and her girlfriend had pointedly suggested she continue the appraisal of the upper rooms. The thought brought a frown to her face. Contrary to what she told Dia, her intent in coming to this old mansion was far from entrepreneurial. As much as she loved Dia, her little workaholic penguin needed a break. A vacation. And what better way was there to get her to take a vacation than by disguising it as work?
Sadly, Dia hadn't exactly gotten into the spirit of vacation. She seemed to be continuously on edge, as if wary of the house itself. Mari could empathize with the ravenette's concerns but she was nowhere near as anxious. Old mansions were just that; old mansions. But to keep Dia at ease, Mari would move mountains, and nothing kept Dia more at ease than being in control and knowing exactly what and where everything was.
Thus Mari was forced to catalog and detail every square inch of these rooms even though they were all the same. A single bed with fitted sheets, a musty old bookcase standing in a corner, a sad little dresser shoved against the wall, and... a beautiful silver vanity?
Mari blinked. Had that always been there? Perhaps the dust was getting to her.
She took a seat on the chair in front of the vanity, her eyes taking in the beautiful black mirror frame laden with ornate carvings before focusing on the mirror itself. A small sense of satisfaction rose within her. Surely Dia would appreciate this vanity set.
Seeing a strand of hair out of place, Mari reached up to smooth it down, tucking it into her braided loop. She nodded to herself, confident that Dia would love it. She sent a smile to the mirror, a gesture that was returned with a pair of golden eyes glaring back at her, angrily.
Then her reflection tore her hair out.
Mari almost tripped over herself as she stood and backed away from the mirror, chills enveloping her entire body as her breathing grew ragged in fear. In the mirror, blonde hair grayed as it fell to the floor, withered and lifeless. Mari risked a quick glance around her to check if there was anything more immediate for her to pay notice to, but there was nothing. Just her, a tidy little bedroom, and the mirror monster.
Contrary to her expectations, or perhaps in validation of them, Mari's reflection remained exactly where it was relative to the mirror. Mirror-Mari's face contorted into a smirk, her dangerous golden eyes glinting in the low light. She reached a hand below to a place out of the mirror's ability to show, as if to retrieve something from one of the vanity's drawers. Then the hand returned, grasped around the handle of a wicked looking knife.
Mari's eyes widened as her counterpart held up her free hand, slowly inching the knife towards the open palm. And without breaking her expression, Mirror-Mari ran the knife through her palm, drawing blood.
Mari grasped her hand immediately, looking wildly between it and the mirror, clutching her wrist with her other hand. There was no blood, no scar, nothing at all to indicate that what her counterpart had just done had any effect on her. But the pain was all too real.
Her attention returned to Mirror-Mari, who had dropped the knife carelessly to the floor. She made a show of taunting Mari with the blood, curling and uncurling fingers to encourage the flow of crimson lifeforce, all with a sinister smile on her face. Then she dug her other hand into the open wound and, using the bloodied hand as an artist's palette and her finger as a brush, she began to paint.
On the side of reality, Mari had backed up all the way to the wall, ragged breaths leaving her as the mirror began to become wet with blood. With each new stroke of the brush, Mari felt an unnatural cold clutch at her heart, and the frigid chill had spread everywhere as her stomach dropped. "No..." she cried softly, knuckles white as snow as her fingers practically dug into the wall. "No..."
Mirror-Mari stared at her tauntingly before fading away, leaving the mirror's face an abyss of black. Written in blood was the ominous message: DIA IS DEAD.
Mari couldn't believe it. She just couldn't believe it.
Then Dia started screaming.