Mirror Mansion

Year: 1969

Part the First: Enchantment of the Mirrors

Author's Note: Before any of you murder me for possibly ruining Sonic the Hedgehog, I'd like to say that I DON'T own anything (except of course, this story). But I do have a wee favor I'd like to ask... please don't flame this! 'coz... I'm a wimp. A wimp who doesn't like being flamed. Who does?

It had been a silly coincidence, nothing further, that the mansion built for the wealthy LeBlancs had been completed on October thirtieth. Oh, the townspeople of Hillsridge laughed and thought it was funny, but it was pure coincidence.

Most of the townspeople had helped put the house together back when it was built, but now the LeBlancs had almost no help from them at all. In fact, the townspeople begged them to leave and not move into the house at all. When the LeBlanc's did not heed their pleas, one said: "Jus' wait and see. Strange happenin's occur at that house, strange happenin's. Ya'll see."

The mansion was dubbed Mirror Mansion, because the hallways were all mirrored, to give the illusion that the halls were longer, wider.

That night, as Rouge watched all her things being moved into the house, she wondered which room was hers. She wanted to be surprised, and had told her mother, Topaz LeBlanc, to pick whichever room suited Rouge. With that in mind, she settled down in the sheets in the hotel room and went to sleep.

The night was thunderous and loud, and to this day, no one knew exactly what happened, just that something happened, because the workers who had been putting all the LeBlanc's things in the house had disappeared.

"I don't understand," Topaz roared, which made Rouge unsettled, "why the fuck anyone would just up and leave good money and disappear without a trace!"

"Mother." Rouge warned. She was sure her mother's yelling could be heard all the way down to Hesitant Creek, which was only a mile or so east of the hotel they were staying in.

"Rouge, what if they took something valuable? What if they took one of your father's things?"

"Why the hell would anyone do that?" Rouge rolled her cerulean eyes. She sat down on her bed, running her hand through her short white hair. "You know those boxes aren't even with us. Daddy took all his things with him, like he always does."

Topaz didn't even look at her daughter, just stormed around the room. "And it was raining last night! I mean, they only had a few boxes to leave in the house, other wise I wouldn't have asked them to finish it… And those assholes just leave some of boxes to soak in the rain! Who the hell am I going to charge for this?"

"Mother, seriously." Rouge sighed loudly. "It's probably just all the cooking utensils."

"Rouge, that sort of blasé attitude will get you nowhere." Topaz clucked, and then, she ordered, "And sit up straight. That's no way for a lady to be acting. Don't pick at your nails."

"I wasn't anywhere near my nails, Mother!" Rouge argued, turning away. "Look, I just want to go to the new house, so let's just go, and then later you can bother me about the useless crap that you always bother me about."

"Rouge LeBlanc, you will not speak to me in that tone, do you understand that, young lady?" Topaz's voice was dangerously low, and Rouge rolled her eyes at her again, getting up and going over to her closet.

"Hillsridge. It's such a no-where's ville." Rouge murmured, looking through her closet. "Mother, you didn't send my boots over already, did you?"

"Of course not." Topaz replied, though she was still pacing the room. "Most of our clothes are still here."

"Well, then where are my favorite boots?"

"Oh…those." Topaz sighed, as her daughter turned around, her hands on her hips, looking upset. "I don't know where you put them. But they made you look terribly…"

"Slutty?" Rouge snorted. "So?"

Topaz glared at her. "What do you mean, so?"

"So who cares what you think about how I look? According to you, I should be wearing fourteenth century dresses." At this, Rouge rose one eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest.

Topaz stopped pacing and stared her daughter down. "I don't need my daughter parading around like a prostitute. We have a reputation to uphold."

"You mean, Daddy has a reputation to uphold. You don't do anything."

"Rouge!" Topaz shouted.

Rouge rose her voice too. "Well? Admit it! You were a waitress until Daddy found you and married you, and then you just stopped working! You know you don't do anything!"

Topaz pointed at the door. "Get your things. Go home." She ordered.

Rouge snorted. "Gladly. At least I'll have a whole wing to myself without you to spout meaningless shit at me." She went back to her closet, seething.

…

That night, Rouge lay in her bed in the West Wing of the house, her CDs playing on her stereo softly. There was a soft pitter pattering of rain, it had rained all night.

Her room was fine, but she mostly wished that it were a little roomier. Of course, she thought snidely, her mother just wanted to smush her into a broom closet of a room and call that a day.

There were shadows in the halls, however, and Rouge hated it. She realized that the mansion was made to mirror Versailles, but all the same, she was sure that Versailles didn't have…shadows in the mirrors. They frightened Rouge like nothing else had.

She was sure- she was positive- that the house was absolutely haunted and she wanted out.

…

Thirty days after she and her mother moved in, Rouge caught pneumonia. The mirror in her room warped and twisted her image, and she sorely wished it wasn't there.

Her mother had called in the doctor, but nothing- there was a blizzard, and did they really expect the doctor to make it up there in a blizzard?

"Who are you?" A voice kept asking, and Rouge kept crying:

"Please leave me alone!"

"You should leave. Who are you?" It would simply reply, and Rouge would continue to cry piteously. Finally she answered:

"I'm Rouge LeBlanc, who are you?"

"Cream. My name is Cream."

"What are you doing in my house, Cream?"

"No." the voice was childish, a girl's voice. "What are you doing in my house? It's dangerous here. You should leave now."

"I can't. I'm sick."

"I know, and I've been asking you and asking you to leave for a while, but no one listens to me!"

"That's because you don't exist."

"Sit up." The girl commanded, "and look in the mirror across the room."

Rouge pushed herself up and did as she was told. At first, she saw her own reflection. And it twisted and turned in the light, quietly becoming dark now there was an explosion of a tannish peach color, a dark cream that was shaping itself and red began to slowly appear in the mixture of cream, and suddenly all sorts of colors- dark oranges and light yellows and faded whites- and soon a picture was almost created…

And then, there was the girl standing in the mirror. Dark, cream colored hair that fell to her knees, splattered with blood. Her face, there were large gashes there. She looked sad, but the gashes were both cutting upwards, making it seem like perhaps she was happy. She was wearing a dress covered in a filmy red liquid, and her arms seemed limp, though her hands were pressed against the mirror. Rouge blinked. Twice.

"I've been here the whole time. I exist… I've always existed. And now it's too late for you to leave." The thing in the mirror said. She—Rouge figured it was a girl— looked sadly at Rouge, still grinning because of the deep cuts on her face. Rouge blanched. "You'll become just like me. A reflection."

Rouge cried, but there was only a comforting nothing to hear it.