The days after the mirror's destruction blurred into a haze of restless nights and uneasy silence. Vivian walked the halls of the estate, each step accompanied by a gnawing sense of something left undone. The house, despite Sebastian's insistence that it felt "lighter," seemed darker to her now. Shadows lingered longer than they should, and the air carried a faint hum, like the remnants of a song she couldn't place.
She hadn't told Sebastian about the reflection—or the whispers. Every time she closed her eyes, she heard it. Faint at first, like the rustling of leaves, but growing louder with every passing hour.
"Vivian…"
The voice was hers, but it wasn't. It carried a weight, a resonance that made her skin crawl.
That evening, Vivian stood at the vanity in her room, staring at the mirror. It was small and harmless, its frame chipped with age. Yet, every time she caught her reflection, she felt that same unease.
"You're imagining things," she told herself, gripping the edge of the vanity. "It's over. The mirror's gone. You're free."
But the reflection stared back at her with an intensity that didn't match her own.
"Are you?" the voice whispered in her mind.
Vivian flinched, her breath catching in her throat. She spun around, half-expecting to see someone standing behind her, but the room was empty.
Her hands trembled as she turned back to the mirror. Her reflection looked normal now—exhausted, pale, but normal. She leaned closer, studying every detail, searching for something out of place.
"Just my mind playing tricks on me," she muttered, but the words felt hollow.
As she straightened, a faint knock echoed from her door.
"Vivian?" Sebastian's voice called softly. "You awake?"
She hesitated, glancing once more at the mirror before crossing the room and opening the door.
Sebastian stood in the dimly lit hallway, his expression etched with concern. "I wanted to check on you. You've been… quiet."
"I'm fine," she said quickly, stepping back to let him in.
He frowned, his sharp eyes scanning her face. "You don't look fine."
"I just need time," she replied, brushing past him and sitting on the edge of her bed.
Sebastian hesitated before sitting in the chair across from her. "Vivian… I know what it's like to deal with the mirror's aftermath. My father… he thought he was fine too. But the mirror doesn't let go easily."
Her stomach tightened. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying it leaves a mark," Sebastian said carefully. "Even when you destroy it, it's like… a stain. It lingers."
Vivian's pulse quickened. She wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but deep down, she knew he wasn't.
"What kind of mark?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sebastian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "It starts small. Doubts, fears, whispers in the back of your mind. But if you let it fester, it can grow. That's how it gets back in—through you."
Vivian's chest tightened, her mind racing. The whispers, the reflection, the unease that followed her every moment—it all made sense now. The mirror wasn't gone. It was inside her.
"Sebastian," she said slowly, her voice trembling, "what happens if it grows?"
He hesitated, his jaw tightening. "It takes over. Piece by piece, until there's nothing left of you."
A chill ran down her spine. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to hold her body together. "So what do I do? How do I stop it?"
Sebastian's gaze softened. "You fight it. You hold on to who you are. The mirror feeds on weakness, on the parts of you you're afraid to face. But if you confront it… if you refuse to let it win…"
"Easier said than done," Vivian muttered, her voice bitter.
"I know," Sebastian admitted. "But you're stronger than it, Vivian. I saw that in the way you faced it before."
She wanted to believe him. But the reflection's words echoed in her mind: You let me out.
"Thanks," she said quietly, though the doubt in her voice was clear.
Sebastian stood, giving her a small nod. "Get some rest. You'll need your strength."
As he left the room, closing the door behind him, Vivian stared at the vanity mirror once more. The reflection was still there, unchanged. But she couldn't shake the feeling that it was watching her, waiting.
Later that night, Vivian woke with a start. The room was pitch dark, but the air was thick, heavy, like a storm about to break. She sat up, her breath quickening.
The whispers were louder now, surrounding her.
"Vivian…"
She turned toward the vanity. The mirror glowed faintly in the darkness, its surface rippling like water.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "This isn't real. This isn't happening."
But the whispers grew louder, and the reflection began to shift. It smiled again—that wide, chilling grin that didn't belong to her.
"You can't run from me, Vivian. I'm a part of you now."
Vivian stumbled out of bed, backing away until her back hit the wall. "Stay away from me!"
The reflection laughed, the sound low and taunting. "Stay away? But you invited me in, remember? You needed me. And now, you'll never get rid of me."
"Stop it!" Vivian screamed, grabbing a nearby lamp and throwing it at the mirror.
The glass shattered, shards scattering across the floor. For a moment, the room was silent again, the whispers gone.
But as she sank to the ground, her body trembling, she caught a glimpse of the broken shards.
Her reflection was still there, fragmented and distorted—but watching her. And it was still smiling.
To be continued...