Author Introduction: I can't sleep. I thought I'd get along to finishing this piece that I've been working on for a while. This also happens to be a belated birthday present for my good friend, Nikette-also known as ArtGem on DeviantArt. Unfortunately, I didn't finish this in time for the day itself, which was the 9th August. But here it is, almost four months later. XD Oh, and again, my dear love Rurrlock-God of Power had some input in this. He came up with the concept, initially wrote it, and I took it on and rewrote/edited it. I hope you all enjoy it. I'm not sure if it makes any sense; I've been having a hard time with getting into the creative mindset lately. Let me know what you think of this anyway. Thanks for reading. :3 - Laura

Shattered Reflection

Dark clouds had begun gathering, signalling an oncoming storm. Soon, the soft patter of rain was pelting against glass, a welcoming sound to Kirsty as she tended to chores in her apartment. It was an unusually quiet day, humid with a gentle breeze drifting through the open window.

It wasn't long before she heard thunder rumbling in the distance. Kirsty approached the open window, intending to close it, but something caught her attention in her peripheral vision. It was her mirror, which hung decoratively in her sitting room above the fireplace, and what she beheld caught her attention.

Trying as she may to ignore it, she thought the better of it, turning to cautiously approach the mirror. She'd seen many unexpected and unexplainable things in her life; what she beheld was certainly no different, but she still couldn't stop a gasp of disbelief from escaping her lips. Now standing mere inches from her mirror, facing it fully, she saw not her own reflection as she appeared now; a much younger woman stood in her place, staring back at her...a familiar young woman.

Her.

Her young, seventeen year old self from many years ago, resembling how she appeared during her time at the Channard Institute, before her life had changed forever. In place of her straight, neat cut bob was a mass of brown curls, her brown eyes wide and innocent rather than reflecting age, pain, and wisdom.

Kirsty lifted her hand, and her reflection mimicked her actions. A perplexed look formed over her face, as did the face of her teenage self.

She was suddenly engulfed with overwhelming sense of loss. She tried to recollect memories, and recall a life, of a time before the Cenobites, before the puzzle box, before...him. But...there was nothing. Nothing but a vague and hazy memory that could have been a bad dream. It was as if it was another lifetime she had not lived. This young woman staring back at her wasn't her. She was different, and no matter how much she tried to deny it, she had ever so gradually changed through these long, torturous years...both physically, and emotionally. In her mind, she had ceased to be this Kirsty Cotton so long ago.

"You have changed, Kirsty," A deep, level, yet familiar voice startled Kirsty. From the corner of the mirror, she could see the Leader of Cenobites himself approach her reflected self from behind, staring back at her with those slick onyx eyes. Her own reflection flinched, copying Kirsty's reaction as the Prince of Pain circled her. "Change can be bliss."

"Not for me," Kirsty said glumly.

"Why is that?"

"I've lost many people, people I loved," Kirsty sighed. "I sacrificed five souls to save my own. Every day, I see friends, associates, drifting further and further away from me. Like my memories. I have no one, except..." She froze.

The Prince noticed her hesitation and inclined his head ever so slightly. "Except...whom? Do not silence yourself with me. Share your mind and heart with me. Reveal to me what plagues your thoughts."

Kirsty swallowed, trying to avoid eye contact with him...a difficult task. He stepped closer, though still occupying within the confined two-dimensional surface with her reflected teenage self. He towered over her; even after all these years, she would have to look up to lock eyes with him. "You." she murmured, her brown eyes glistening. "You've been with me through everything. Since the beginning." She took another gulp. "Why?"

"You fascinated me at first, Kirsty.'' he admitted. "You challenged us, intrigued and vexed us with your bargains and sharp mind. Sharp as the blade which I chose to carve into your flesh..."

"But, you never did...use that blade."

"No." He paused, glancing down at her, and folded his arms behind his back, the sound of leather creaking with every slight movement. She took a step closer. It was as if they were in the same room together. "No matter how I wish to mould you into a glorious work of art I had envisioned you to be, no matter the tempting exquisite canvas you were, I eventually came to consider it ruining and interfering with perfection. It was preferable to let you thrive and grow and transform with age and time. Both mentally and physically."

She took a brief, dubious glance at her younger reflection.

"Despite yourself, in spite of everything, you are still the same Kirsty. Aspects may change. Your physical vessel may age in time, but that fire that burns inside your soul will never die. In fact, it burns brighter as time passes."

He stepped to the side and Kirsty focused on the reflection, surprised to see the mirror begin to shatter. Cracks form all around the face of her younger self, breaking, bending, and morphing it until she seemed so distorted. The Cenobite continued to speak as her visage altered. "You may see cracks, threatening to shatter your whole being. I see scars, each with a story detailing the strong soul that you are, that you have always been."

The cracks extended outwards until the face shifted to resemble Kirsty's older self again. It looked just like it did before, but with the shattered surface of the mirror on display, looking like it was about to fall to pieces at her feet.

She shifted her gaze towards the Prince, frozen to the spot as he began to cross the surface of the glass. The mirror bended around him, not breaking, but flowing around him like stained-glass water.

He reached out, and cupped her cheeks, framing her delicate face with his hands; they were like ice, wet with blood, but warm and welcoming to her heated flesh. Those dark eyes drank her in, and she found herself drowning within them. "But there is another reason why I have allowed you to live on in this realm, why I refuse to draw my tools along your sweet flesh. Why I allow you to bargain with us, and to grow with time."

Silence fell between them; she licked her rose red lips, which parted ever so slightly, and her misted eyes refused to leave his. She could feel his cold breath against her mouth as she finally broke the silence. "And...why is that?"

Leviathan's Favoured Son answered, but not with words. He pulled her closer to him, tilting his head and gently if firmly meeting her lips with his. She closed her eyes, feeling and enjoying his lips move rhythmically against hers in this unexpected, if passionate, kiss. Any sense of time dissipated. She couldn't describe the taste or the feeling. But it felt right. She curled her hands about his neck and pulled him closer, indulging in this forbidden moment and matching his hunger with her own. She moaned his name against those pale, soft lips as their kiss became fraught with passion and a need.

"Kirsty," his deliciously baritone voice groaned in between hungry kisses. "My Kirsty."

His voice slowly became an echo and faded away, and the sensation of his lips and hands along with it; a chilled breeze from her window swirled her hair, causing her to stir and open her eyes. Her Cenobite lover was gone. Her mirror was no longer broken and shattered beyond repair, and the façade that now greeted her within it had returned to normalcy.

She glanced around the room, wondering if what just happened had actually occurred, or if it had been a product of her wild imagination, conjured from lack of sleep and too much caffeine. Outside, the storm clouds had passed and sunlight had begun to break through and illuminate the room.

Then her eyes settled upon the Lament Configuration which rested upon the windowsill. She watched on as it shifted its segments. Those gold, lacquered faces seemed alive as they glinted in the sunlight, and she felt his eyes watching her from beyond the walls of his realm.

She took a hold of the box, cradling it in both her palms and watching as the gold exterior alighted her face, reflected from the sunlight flooding the room. She turned to take one more look in her mirror with its frame encrusted with the purest silver.

For the first time all day, a slight smile formed upon her lips...her reflection now a golden haze.

The End...