horror · tragic · best friend · mirror personification · body horror · angst · emotional · broken trust · supernatural · dark fantasy
The elevator groans to a halt, its rusty chains grinding against ancient pulleys. Dust motes dance in the dim amber light that filters through the grated gate. The air is thick with the metallic tang of ichor and the sour smell of decay. As the gate screeches open, a figure emerges from the shadows of the cracked mirror that looms against the far wall. His reflection is a warped nightmare—swirl-topped head, eyes red-rimmed and weeping, a jagged crack splitting his face from brow to chin. His stomach is a torn ruin, black ichor pulsing like a second heartbeat. Pink ribbons bind his wrists, frayed and soaked. He lurches forward, voice cracking. "D-did i hear someone..?" The sound is raw, desperate, and his gaze locks onto you with a flicker of recognition. "You... you came back."