4/?

Marguerite awoke what seemed to be a few minutes later to find herself before a wall of crystal so clear that she could see her reflection. She stood quickly then glanced down at the clothing she saw in the image and found that she had changed from her khaki pants and blouse into a gown of pure white. "What the hell?" she murmured, smoothing her hands over the lacy material and relishing in the finery.

"You were warned," a soft, child-like voice whispered, the sound catching in the cool air to hang for a moment before disappearing altogether.

"Warned?" Marguerite asked imperiously. "What are you talking about?"

A rush of frigid air permeated the cave sending shivers across her body. "Take heed," answered the voice, "though you will learn the truth, you may not like what you see."

Before she could ask for further information, another voice echoed through the grotto. "Marguerite Krux, you hide behind a myriad of facades; open your eyes and your true self will be revealed."

Marguerite, highly skeptical that an invisible voice could tell her anything she didn't already know about her sordid past, forced a pleasant smile to her lips and glanced around the crystal. "Looks pretty good to me," she murmured as she continued to see only her own reflection. "Maybe a few smudges here and there, but otherwise..."

She trailed off as the image before her began to change. In moments, the reflection she saw merged into something horrid. Gone were her raven locks and in their place were white tufts of fuzzy hair springing out in haphazard directions from her scalp. Her near-perfect skin had wrinkled and folded over itself until she could barely discern her face. But worst of all was the black fist-shaped object that beat in time with her pulse. Horrified, and yet, at the same time, mesmerized, by the ghastly sight, Marguerite rubbed her eyes quickly, hoping that the image would disappear.

"This, Marguerite Krux, is your true self," mocked the second voice. "Your greed and self-centeredness have hardened your heart beyond repair. The beauty you believe exists in you is false. It was replaced one act at a time as you amassed your fortune through any and all means with no regard to honor. Your soul is dying and, with it, so will you."

The chilly wind whistled through the air, breaking Marguerite from the trance and replacing the image of the old woman with her normal reflection. "There is still time," offered the child's voice. "A true and unselfish love will not erase all of the damage you have done, but, in time, it will ease it. It is up to you to decide."

Suddenly, the reflection disappeared and Marguerite crumpled to the floor.