-Sometime in the 1970s-

Alfred hadn't been outside in a while, he supposed it would be good to get some fresh air. Upon opening the front door he realised just how cold it had become. It was November, what did he expect? Maybe hibernation wasn't such a bad idea. He turned to
grab his jacket off the wall when he nearly took the wrong one. Without realising, he shouted back into the empty house. "Hey, do you wanna come with—"

He stopped short when he registered what he was saying, and who he was saying it to. He swallowed back his mistake. Tugging on the jacket he left the house.

He had only gotten halfway up the dirt track when he bumped into Feliciano. Well, bumped into was an understatement as Feliciano jumped onto him after Alfred spotted him lurking behind a tree. Alfred wondered briefly how long Feliciano had been hiding
there and why the effort. The dirt track to town stretched out about a mile and you could see where the track converted into regular road and where buildings started to grow.

"I was coming up to meet you when I saw you coming down, so I decided to hide." Feliciano said in a rush. "I haven't seen you out and about lately." The two started to walk together.

"The food in my refrigerator's starting to rot."

Feliciano patted Alfred on the shoulder. "You shouldn't buy food just to let it rot. You need to eat, Alfred. I know it's hard but it's only been a few days and I'm sure he'll come back."

"But what if he doesn't? I'm telling you there's something fishy going on. He wouldn't just leave without a word, would he?" Alfred looked pleadingly at Feliciano, who just shrugged.

"Maybe he had a reason. Look, Alfred, I'm worried. You should let me cook you a meal or something, help take your mind off of it."

Alfred smiled sadly at him. "Thanks, but not right now."

Feliciano nodded, somewhat disappointed. "Right, of course. But if you need me, remember I'm just a phone call away."

"Right."

Later that evening Alfred made it back to his empty house after rejecting Feliciano's countless offers stay at his. Looking at the house which stood so achingly alone Alfred knew he needed a change of scenery, but not tonight. Maybe not ever, after all
Alfred needed to be here when he came back. He was coming back, right? And anyway, he had groceries to put away. As he slammed the front door behind him he heard the same noise echo upstairs. He stood for a moment looking up at the noise waiting,
listening. Maybe he was just hearing things. Shrugging off the noise, he shuffled into the dining room and set the grocery bag onto the counter, only to hear the door shut with a force behind him. Spinning round, he knew he wasn't just hearing things.
He sucked in some air and stole a few steps forward. The door was still, almost waiting to be opened; Alfred dreaded to find out what was on the other side. You could've heard a pin drop as he reached out for the door knob. Just as Alfred's fingertips
hovered next to the hard wood, a door crashed shut on the floor above. Alfred whipped his head up to the noise. His breathing quickened and another door was heard on the other side of the house. The door in front of him opened up quietly and Alfred
gently forced his way through it out onto the hallway. Another door somewhere else followed suit, and then another. And another, and another, again and again. Soon every door in the house, every window and cupboard, anything that could open and close
did so frequently in a frenzy, fiercely. Alfred inhaled and exhaled almost as frequently as the doors did, creating an orchestra of a strange noises. He spun and moved quickly to the only door which stood still; the front door. But no matter how much
he pulled, some unknown force held it shut. The handle refused to even turn. Turning on his heel he searched frantically for another exit, of which he couldn't find.

Desperately he shouted into the void of opening and closing doors. "What do you want?"

At that the doors all slammed shut in unison, leaving Alfred's breathing the only sound left in the world. He swallowed and waited. Only a few metres down, a door slowly groaned open, the back door framing the small shed outside. That was it for Alfred.
He scrambled to the living room and crashed through the door. Reaching the phone he dialled the familiar number.

"Feliciano—"

"Alfred! I didn't think you'd phone so soon, but whatever, you're phoning and that's all that matters. Alfred, are you okay? You're breathing pretty loudly."

"Feliciano I need your help. I think this house is haunted. Do you know anyone who can help?"

"Haunted? Are you sure, I mean maybe you were just seeing things."

"No, seriously Feli, something evil is here I know it."

"Evil? That's a bit... extreme isn't it?" Feliciano could hear the panic in Alfred's voice, and that same panic rose in Feliciano's chest. "Just calm down. I know a good friend who knows all about that stuff, I'll bring him in the morning."

"No, it has to be tonight. Bring him tonight if you can. I don't want to be alone."

After saying goodbye and hanging up the phone Alfred sat in complete and utter silence for what seemed like an eternity. The clock had stopped ticking a few days back and Alfred was glad the annoying clock had ceased to tick, but right now he found the
absence unsettling. In fact, it felt as if time had stopped. Nothing moved, nothing made a sound, there was just nothing. He decided to wait outside.

Soon a car pulled up to the house, blinding Alfred briefly with its headlights. Feliciano bounded out off the passenger door and leapt onto Alfred.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're okay."

"I'm fine, I'm fine. It's just this house, it's freaking me out."

"You better not be wasting my time." A third party member, the driver, killed the headlights while getting out of the car. Feliciano brought the two men together.

"Alfred, this is Arthur. And Arthur, this is Alfred." The two shook hands and weighed each other up. Although shorter than Alfred, Arthur's striking green eyes looked older and far more experienced.

"Do tell me I came with a reason." Arthur looked both annoyed and intrigued. You would be after getting dragged out into the middle of nowhere by an old school friend in the middle of the night.

Alfred proceeded to tell the two the events of the evening. Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You weren't kidding."

Alfred shook his head. "Of course not."

"Sounds like common poltergeist activity, I think we will have to conduct an investigation. May I?" Arthur gestured to the house.

Once inside Arthur told the two to stay in the living room while he explored the house. He had already felt the presence of a destructive and vengeful force upon entering the building, but he had yet to be convinced this was the real thing. People like
this usually held elaborate hoaxes for the fame and press. Arthur, on the other hand, just wanted to help restless spirits find peace. He had no reason to believe this man's overdramatic account of doors opening and closing. During the expedition
of the house, Arthur noted that there were three stories with many bedrooms, and a bathroom on each floor. This place was way too large for one person. Checking each room carefully he tried not to disturb everything. The dark force he felt was ever
present, like a constant dread hanging over them, and escalated in certain rooms. It was extremely extravagant in the second storey bathroom. This was the only bathroom with a bathtub, the other two had showers. Arthur paused for a moment focussing
on the energy in the room, trying to decide whether it was genuine. Listening closely he closed his eyes and had to place a hand on the wall to keep balance. He breathed in deep and —

"Arthur? You okay there? I came to see what was taking so long and I find you on the floor." Feliciano helped Arthur into a sitting position. "Do you get dizzy too? I used to a lot when I was younger. You know I—"

"Guys!" Alfred called frantically from the floor below. The two headed downstairs to find a bewildered Alfred in the middle of the room staring at the static on the TV.

"Guys, it just turned on by itself."

Arthur slapped Alfred on the back. "Just because it turned on by itself doesn't mean there's a spirit—"

The radio sprang to life, and soon was flicking through different radio stations. Feliciano moved closer to Alfred. Arthur was still slightly skeptical, but was beginning to change his mind. Maybe something was actually happening here.

"Arthur?" Alfred broke Arthur out of his thoughts. Just as he did so the light ceased to work. And then shined again a moment after.

"We're recording an EVP."

"A what?"

"An electric voice phenomenon. I left it in the car though. Feliciano you stay here, Alfred and I will go get the recording equipment."

Outside, Arthur started to pile what looked like equipment that came straight from a radio station into Alfred's arms.

"This house has a lot of rooms. Too many for one person."

"Yeah, well, we were thinking of converting it into a bed and breakfast or something. Make a bit of money maybe." Alfred looked up at the house again. "I'm not so sure that would work now."

"Why's that?"

"Well, I don't want to scare customers away with this spirit, do I?"

"Ah, but stopping you converting this place into a B&B might be why the spirit is attacking. If you don't convert then you'd be showing the spirit you've given up."

Alfred looked skeptical. "I suppose. But the other reason is—"

Feliciano cut him short with a scream. "No!"

Arthur and Alfred exchanged a quick glance, then sped into the building. Alfred dumped the equipment in the living room in his haste. They found Feliciano in one of the guest bedrooms on the top floor. He was just stood there, staring at his reflection
in an antique mirror. It looked more like he was staring at something just behind his reflection, but it was hard to tell. A sheet lay on the ground next to the mirror and Alfred quickly picked it up and covered the mirror with it. Feliciano blinked
out of his trance and took a step back.

Arthur was immediately confused. "Why'd you cover it?"

"I don't know. When I first came here they told me to always keep it covered, but I didn't ask why."

Feliciano decided to speak. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me." He held a hand up to his forehead.

Alfred lead Feliciano out of the room telling him that everything was fine. Arthur stayed for a moment concentrating on the energy in the room. He didn't feel as much at that moment than when the mirror was uncovered. He decided not to touch the sheet
and made a mental note not to let Feliciano, or anyone else for that matter, in this room.

Back downstairs after Arthur set up the equipment, he told the others to try and stay quiet.

Holding up the microphone he set the machine to record. "Who are you?"

A pause. Nothing.

"Why are you here?"

Another pause. Still nothing.

"Where do you come from?"

A brief pause followed by a hoarse inaudible voice containing two syllables. Feliciano and Alfred exchanged glances. Arthur carried on.

"What do you want from us?"

A faint single syllable whisper answered this almost immediately. Arthur decided that was enough and stopped the recording. Playing it back all three listened closely.

"Who are you? Why are you here? Where do you come from? Blood bath. What do you want from us? Shed."

The recording dissolved into static until shutting off. Arthur turned to the other two. "Do these words mean anything to you?"

Both shook their heads. Alfred jumped in sudden realisation. "Oh, we do have a shed in the backyard. Do you think the spirit wants us to go in there?"

The clock started ticking again but none of them noticed.

Feliciano objected to this idea. "I don't want to look in the shed, what if there's an axe murderer or something?"

Arthur stood up and made his way to the door. The others followed. "I think I might have to go gather research on the house's history. I'll get some exorcism equipment as well if need be. There is no reason to worry, it's not too destructive at the moment."

"Dude, you can't just say you're going to get exorcism equipment and then tell us not to worry what the hell."

Arthur chuckled. "I won't be long." He went to open the door but stopped short.

Alfred cocked his head to the side. "What's wrong?"

Arthur tried to open the door again, it refused to budge. "I don't know, it's stuck."

"That's what happened to me earlier."

Arthur stopped trying and looked down the hall to the back door. He was drawn to it ever since he entered the building, but now more so than usual.

"I think we need to check out the shed." As if on cue, the back door swung open.

Feliciano clung onto Alfred's arm. "I don't want to go in the shed."

Arthur made to go towards the back door but at what seemed like a last minute decision turned on his heel and started towards the stairs. "Let's check out the bathroom first. Feliciano, stay here."

Feliciano nodded and let go of Alfred, lingering on the shed for a moment before disappearing into the living room.

Once in the bathroom Alfred asked why they hadn't just gone into the shed.

"I needed to tell you before we went in, in case something happened."

"What?"

"First, do you feel anything in this room?"

"Uh, not particularly, perhaps something below. Why?"

"I see." Arthur glanced at the floor boards. "And secondly, I believe something may have… latched itself onto Feliciano."

"Latched? What do you mean?"

"The spirit may be feeding off Feliciano's fear. The mirror he was staring at has me believing he's connected to something in this house. But I'm not too sure yet."

Alfred sounded desperate. "Well, what can we do to stop it?"

"I don't know, I've never dealt with anything this big before. But I think whatever's in the shed may have the answer."

"What are we waiting for then?" Alfred started to leave but Arthur caught his arm.

"I forgot to ask, what was the other reason you weren't going to turn this place into a B&B?"

"What, now?"

"Yes, now."

Alfred sighed frustratedly. "My boyf— roommate disappeared a couple days ago without a trace. It was his idea in the first place so I didn't feel like following it through after he was gone."

Arthur let go of Alfred's arm. "I see. Oh, and Alfred? Remember if Feliciano does anything out of character, it may not be Feliciano any more."

Alfred gave a grave nod and they continued downstairs together. Feliciano joined them and they all stepped out into the fresh night air together.

The shed door opened to frame and spotlight with the moon a large wooden chest. Arthur stepped into the door frame, followed by the other two, casting a veil of shadows over the chest and floorboards. All three held onto their breath for dear life as
Arthur reached to open the chest. All three couldn't believe what they were seeing when the lid revealed the contains. They were looking at a lifeless body.

Alfred took a step back and a hand flew up to his mouth. He whispered something but Arthur couldn't hear.

"What?"

Alfred pointed a quivering finger at the body in question. "Lovino. My boyfr— roommate, his brother." He nodded to Feliciano.

"The roommate who disappeared a few days ago?"

Alfred gave an unsteady nod and sunk to his knees. "Oh God. Lovino… no…"

Arthur drew in a shaky breath. He looked to Feliciano, who just stared vacantly ahead. He almost had the same expression as when he was looking in the mirror.

"We need to call 911." He grabbed both men by their arms and dragged them outside, and back into the house. Alfred sat heavily on the sofa and held his head in his hands, while Feliciano just stood there. He hadn't said anything since before going into
the shed.

Arthur dialled and waited. And waited. Nothing. Not even a ring tone. He hung up and tried again. Again, nothing. He followed the wire to see it had abruptly stopped, it had been severed. The line had been cut. Great.

He informed the others. They didn't seem like they noticed or cared. A moment passed before Feliciano blinked and took a step back.

"I did it." Feliciano looked to Arthur. "I cut the wire."

"Why?"

Feliciano's eyebrows knotted into a frown and he looked to the ground. "I don't know."

Arthur rubbed his temples and inhaled sharply. "I think we can still talk to him, Lovino I mean."

Alfred looked up. "Really?" His voice etched with solemn hope.

"Really. And I don't think we're going to get answers through an EVP. Feliciano, sit down." Feliciano obeyed. Arthur sat himself down in the chair while the other two were on the sofa. He sucked in a steady breath through his nose and exhaled out his
mouth. He closed his eyes. "Lovino, if you can hear me, you have my permission to enter my body and speak through my words. We want to know what happened to you."

They waited in dead silence. They waited a few moments and Feliciano began to get restless under the heavy atmosphere. Suddenly Arthur breathed in like he had never known what it was to breath.

Lovino opened Arthur's eyes. He stood up with Arthur's legs. He pointed Arthur's finger at Feliciano. "You." He hissed through Arthur's clenched teeth. "You killed me you bastard."

Alfred could see Arthur was no longer Arthur, even speaking in an Italian accent. Feliciano stood up. "I didn't, Lovi, I swear."

"Liar! You drowned me in the fucking bath, how could you? I'm your fucking brother, you fucking bastard." Both brothers were rising into hysterics.

"I didn't do it, I didn't mean to!" Feliciano's eyes leaked. Alfred couldn't take it anymore. He refused to believe it. Feliciano couldn't harm a fly, let alone his own brother. Alfred needed some fresh air. He ran outside, but even the air out there
was stifling. He decided to go back into the shed, hoping to find that this was all one big nightmare. He found otherwise.

Lovino's body was still where they left it. Alfred fell to his knees at the sight. He felt his own tears fall, he couldn't take it anymore. Lovino was paler than ever and still had that permanent frown on. Alfred chuckled sadly through his tears and reached
out to straighten that frown like he had done so many times before. After stroking out his icy forehead, his hand travelled down to Lovino's cheek. Alfred choked back a wail. His thumb stroked the edge of Lovino's mouth for a second and felt something.
A small breath of stale air escaped Lovino's lips. It couldn't be, could it? Alfred swallowed and sat up a little straighter. He hovered the back of his hand over Lovino's mouth, and there it was again. A small inhale and exhale of breath, of life.
Quickly he checked for a pulse. Steady but slow, constant but struggling to keep up with the body's needs. Fading, but still there. Lovino was alive.

Arthur sat heavily. Lovino had left behind a raging headache, but he remembered everything Lovino had said. Feliciano had fallen to the ground, hugging his knees and shaking with sobs. Alfred suddenly entered the room, Lovino's limp body in his arms.

"Lovino's alive, Arthur we gotta help him." He said in a rush and strode to the front door.

Arthur followed. "What? How?"

"I don't know, but I found his pulse and that's all that matters."

"Ah, okay, just hold on a second. Let me think."

"Come on dude, we don't have time to think."

"Alright, I'll drive him to the hospital. You stay here with Feliciano."

"What? Why?"

"He is in no mental state to go anywhere at the moment, but you can't leave him alone. Just keep an eye on him, okay? I'll keep you updated." Arthur nodded to the recording equipment in the living room. "There's a radio in with that stuff, I'll call you
on that."

Alfred watched the back of the car until it disappeared from sight. Upon entering the living room he noticed Feliciano on the floor. He had stopped sobbing and was just still. Alfred helped him up again and him on the sofa.

"Listen, Feli. What happened when you last saw Lovino? Now tell me the truth, okay?"

Feliciano nodded.

-A few days earlier-

Feliciano's key wasn't working in the lock. It was odd, he had that key for years, why would they change the lock without telling him? So instead, he knocked.

Lovino answered. He didn't look too pleased to see him. "Oh, it's my idiot brother. What a surprise."

"Hi, Lovi! Why'd you change the lock?"

Lovino shrugged. "Didn't we tell you? Oh well, you know now."

Feliciano walked past his brother into the hallway. He heard the distant sound of rushing water, but paid no attention to it. He turned back to Lovino. "So, when are you and Alfred making this into a bed and breakfast?"

"Pretty soon, I hope."

"I was just thinking, maybe I could help? I mean I'm pretty good at cooking if your guests want pasta every night, and I could help with the cleaning as well—"

"Feliciano, listen. This is a project for me and Alfred. Just me and Alfred. Got that?"

"But—"

"Feliciano, just stay out of this, okay? I don't need your stupid grin getting in the way of me and Alfred. Just leave."

Feliciano felt something bitter rise within his chest, and it rose with such severity he had never felt before. He felt hot and cold all over like he was about to faint. A thin familiar voice echoed in the back of his head, or was it behind him? He didn't
know anymore.

The American is yours. The brother is getting in the way. Feliciano will be with the American if the brother is no longer in the way. It's just me and you.

Darkness.

Lovino getting dragged upstairs by his hair.

Darkness.

Lovino struggling underwater.

Darkness.

Lovino at peace underwater.

Darkness.

When Feliciano came to he was sat up against the bathtub hugging his knees. He felt tired and wet. He didn't know why. He looked up from his knees to the left. He saw a limp arm. Somehow he was not surprised to see it. Shakily, he stood up in the endless
puddle of death. Lovino lay lifeless with his nose just above the water. The mirror. The mirror was calling to him. He sprinted upstairs to find his reflection. It was smiling at him, even though his own cheeks were limp.

It's just you and me, Feliciano. The reflection spoke. The brother is out of the way. The American is yours.

Feliciano refused to believe the mirror. None of that had happened. Lovino was alive and well, he just decided to stay away for a while, that was all. He'd be back, wouldn't he? Yes, he would. Feliciano was sure of it. He soon forgot what he had hidden
in the shed.

Alfred found a duvet and brought it down for Feliciano to sleep on the sofa. He had fallen out of consciousness shortly after telling his side of the story. Despite Feliciano's word, Alfred still couldn't believe the turn of events. Either way, he was
shattered. He needed rest, and soon. He figured Feliciano would be alright downstairs on his own for a while. He decided to retire upstairs to a familiar bed for a while.

Something woke Alfred with a start. Whatever it was wouldn't let him sleep again. He groggily blinked up at the clock. Despite it being six in the morning the moon shone prominently through the window.

Alfred decided to get up and stretch, and in doing so he caught sight of something through a gap in the curtains. A figure of some sort walking towards the house. No, away from it. Was that Feliciano?

Alfred ran out the house and caught up with Feliciano. His eyes were open but not seeing. He was sleepwalking. And sleep talking, mumbling. Alfred redirected him back into the house and lay him down on the sofa, just as Arthur's radio made a noise. Alfred
picked it up and went into the other room.

Arthur's crackled voice came from the radio. "Alfred?"

"Yo, how's Lovino?"

"He's fine, actually. It's strange, the doctors say he should at least have some sort of damage to his lungs but there's nothing. He's healthy."

Alfred gave a sigh of relief. "Oh thank God."

"Any news on Feliciano?"

"Yeah actually, I found himnot long ago sleep walking outside. He was talking too."

"What did he say?"

"'Mine, kill, forgive.' in that order three times."

"Strange. Lovino was talking in his sleep too. He said 'Mine, don't, never' three times."

Arthur sucked in air of realisation. "It all fits. Alfred, where's Feliciano now?"

"In the living room, why?"

"Just see if he's still there, okay?"

"Fine, fine I'm going. I'll be right back."

Arthur placed the radio on the table beside all the newspaper prints he had photocopied at the library. He had found boxes upon boxes about the Vargas family's history in that house. He did not like what he saw.

"Alfred?"

Arthur whipped his head round to see Lovino struggling to sit up. He took a few steps towards him.

"It's Arthur. Do you… remember me?"

Lovino nodded. "Crazy, huh? One minute I vaguely remember you to have gone to the same school as us, the next I'm inside your body."

"Yeah." The two stayed stayed in silence for a moment. "Lovino, I need to know something. You know the antique mirror in the upstairs bedroom? Why is it covered up?"

Lovino inhaled the sweet night air and turned his head the window. "When we were kids, Feliciano and I, Feliciano used to have an imaginary friend. After we found the mirror and fixed it up, he had it in his head that the only way he could talk to this
imaginary friend was through that mirror. When we grew too old for that stuff, I told him it wasn't real. He got angry, angrier than I had ever seen him. Usually he's this happy-go-lucky guy, you know? He started swearing and throwing stuff, so I
covered the mirror up, and he stopped."

During this little speech Arthur had sat down on the chair next to the table. "What was the imaginary friend's name?"

Before Lovino could answer, the radio interrupted them.

"Arthur, Arthur listen. I just found Feliciano on the third floor next to an open window. He was threatening to jump."

"Seriously?" Arthur gave out a breath of dread. "Oh God, I didn't think it'd get this far. Alfred stay there I'm coming to you."

"Okay, but be quick. Who knows what he'll do next."

Arthur slipped the radio in his pocket and started shovelling the newspaper photocopies up in his arms.

Lovino stood up. "I'm coming with you."

"No, you need to rest."

"I fucking deserve to know what this all means dammit."

Arthur thought for a moment."Alright fair enough. Come on."

They made it back to the house to find a half asleep Feliciano and a tentative Alfred. Arthur strode in with Lovino behind. Alfred jumped up at the sight.

"Listen up, everybody." Arthur announced. "This has been far more serious than what I thought it'd be."

"Just fucking tell us already." Lovino was unsteady on his feet so sat down on the chair. Alfred sat down too, while Arthur remained standing.

"The Vargas family has lived in this house for generations. Back in the twenties there were these brothers called Luciano and Flavio…

-Sometime in the 1920s-

Luciano felt a sense of accomplishment. A giddy feeling he had never felt before, and wanted to experience again. He was tired and wet and loved the reason why. He should be looking down at his lifeless brother in regret, but instead he felt excitement,
happiness, like a terrible weight had been lifted. It was great. Then he had an idea, a wonderful idea. He lugged the corpse up the stairs and into the corpse's bedroom. There was Flavio's mirror, well no longer Flavio's he guessed. At least Flavio
could look into it one last time. Then Luciano would look in it, again and again. Forever and ever. He giggled at the thought. He moved past the mirror and to the window. He swung it open and held Flavio up to see. The door opened behind them. Al
stepped in.

Luciano realised. The American was his now. No more brothers in the way.

"Uh, Luciano? What are you doing with Flavio?"

Luciano smiled and 'accidentally' dropped Flavio out of the window. The sound of bone impacting the earth below was amazing. Luciano wanted to hear it again. "Whoops, did I do that?"

"Oh God, Flavio." Al rushed to the window and peered down. He stood staring for a moment, mouth gaped in shock. He then turned to Luciano, eyes full of hate. "You killed him you bastard. He was your brother how could you do that?"

Luciano took a step back. Surely Al would happy Flavio was gone. He and Luciano could be happy together, right. But Al was mad. Why was Al mad at him? Maybe because this wasn't Al at all. In one swift movement Luciano bashed the side of Al's head to Flavio's,
no, Luciano's mirror. It shattered and Al flopped down to the floor. He groaned and tried to get up. Luciano pinned him down. Grinning from ear to ear, he was wieldinga shard of glass. He pressed down hard on Al's neck until hot sticky wet blood
oozed out and stained the carpet, and Al ceased to struggle. There was giddy feeling again, a sense of accomplishment. He looked to the window and thought maybe the lovebirds could be happier together. Al landed right on top of Flavio, it was funny
to watch. Luciano stared at the two for what seemed like forever, relishing in the emotions he was feeling at that moment. Right up until he felt something bite his back. He turned his head to see his Grandfather wielding a shotgun before tumbling
out into the abyss.

Arthur looked to Lovino. "And what was Feliciano's imaginary friend called?"

"Luciano." He muttered.

"So? What are we gonna do?" Alfred rose to a stand. Lovino stood up too and they both realised they were in the same room together. They were instantly drawn to each other and embraced in a well deserved hug.

Feliciano snapped his eyes open and was suddenly between the two, throwing Lovino onto the chair.

"The fuck?"

Feliciano growled. "Mine. My body. My American." It evident Feliciano was no longer Feliciano.

"Oh God, I didn't think it'd get this far." Arthur was quickly in front of Feliciano, or Feliciano's body, and grasped the sides of his face. "Feliciano listen to me, if you're still in there then fight against it. Don't let him take over."

Feliciano was shaking his head and muttering. "Mine… mine… mine…"

Arthur was so close their foreheads were touching. "Fine, Luciano listen to me. Don't you want your brother to forgive you?"

"Mine… kill…" Feliciano's eyes closed.

"You said it didn't you? You said 'forgive' in Feliciano's sleep?"

"Mine….. kill….." His face scrunched up in concentration.

"Okay fine, Feliciano, don't you want your brother to forgive you? The only way to do that is to fight him off."

Feliciano started whimpering as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. The internal struggle threatened to shatter his mental state. Suddenly Arthur had an idea. He grabbed Feliciano by the wrist and dragged him up the stairs, ordering the others to follow.

Making it up to the third floor bedroom, Arthur positioned Feliciano in front of the foreboding mirror.

Once he uncovered it he shouted, "Look at yourself, look at what you've become. Do you think the American would like you now?" Arthur wasn't sure if he was talking to Luciano or Feliciano at this point, but nonetheless they stepped up to the mirror and
placed a hand on it.

In the real world stood Feliciano, tear stained and terrified. In the reflected world stood Luciano, blood stained and bewildered. Both unsure of what to do. Feliciano overwhelmingly wanted his brother to forgive him for what he had done, while Luciano
stood by what he had done. However, a small glint of regret was evident in his eyes. He didn't want the American not to like him.

"Mine… kill… for…. forgive." The words were uttered under his breath but all who were present could hear it.

Lovino stepped in then, giving Feliciano a hug from behind. In the reflected world, Flavio did the same.

"Mine, don't… I forgive. I just want my little brother back." They said.

The reflection dissipated back into normality, but nobody noticed.

-A few weeks later-

Even though Arthur had already gone to bury the mirror somewhere out in the field, he had his doubts that this was over. He was still wondering why the American hadn't shown up in the mirror in the form of Alfred, after all, he was the one who
was ultimately killed by it. Perhaps Luciano and Flavio only made an appearance because they were related to the brothers, Alfred just happened to be an American who fit perfectly into the story. He decided to forget about it.

While cleaning up, Alfred dreaded to think this was the room in which people were murdered. But, the mirror was gone, so all was safe, right? Arthur promised to be the first guest at their B&B, which they planned to open next summer. As he sweeping
dirt under the rug, he came across what looked like a loose floorboard and a piece of glass. Upon closer inspection, it looked to be part of a mirror. It was all rusted and painted over with something red, so he just tossed it aside and went to investigate
the loose floorboard, which turned out to be a secret compartment. Inside was a shoebox filled with letters, papers, nicknacks and photos. Alfred didn't have time to sift through it all, and at that point Lovino called him down to dinner. He decided
not to disturb it and put it back to where it was.

The piece of broken rusted red mirror stayed were it was too.

Hi, Lazy Wonderland here. I'd love it if you could crack open your brain and leave me your thoughts in a review below. I tried to make it suspenseful, but if it isn't up to your standard Steven King novel then do remember this is my first time writing
stuff like this. I do have something of a sequel in mind, but I'll only get to that if this one's popular enough. But sometimes, you just need to leave things as they are. And remember, dead hearts beat quicker entwined with the living.