The Curse – Reflections…

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own.

Instead, it was a twisted, grotesque version of my-self, with eyes that glinted with malice and a smile that stretched too wide. I stumbled back in horror, knocking over a vase and sending it crashing to the floor.

As I watched, the reflection in the mirror began to shift and blur, as though it was trying to break free from the glass. Suddenly, the mirror shattered into a million pieces, showering me with glass shards.

I thought it was over, but it was only the beginning.

Every time I walked past the shattered mirror, I could feel a presence watching me. I could hear whispers in the air and sometimes the scent of rotting flesh filled my nostrils.

One night, as I lay in bed, I heard a scratching sound coming from the broken mirror. I got up to investigate, but as soon as I got close, the mirror started glowing with an eerie light. Suddenly, I was pulled into the mirror, into an alternate reality.

It was a world of darkness and decay, where the sky was always blood red and the trees were twisted and gnarled. I could hear screams and moans in the distance and the ground was covered in bones and ashes.

In the distance, I could see a figure shrouded in darkness. It beckoned to me and I knew I had to follow. As I drew closer, I realized it was a twisted version of myself, the same one I had seen in the shattered mirror.

"Welcome to my world," it said, its voice echoing in the darkness. "Here, your worst nightmares become reality."

I tried to turn back, but it was too late. The world around me started to bleed into my own and I could see glimpses of the twisted reality wherever I looked. Shadows moved on their own and objects moved without explanation. I was trapped in a nightmare, with no way out.

As the days went by, the world around me grew darker and more twisted. My friends and family started to change, their faces warping into grotesque caricatures of themselves. I could feel the presence of the twisted version of myself everywhere, watching me from the shadows.

I knew I had to find a way out, but I didn't know how. Every time I tried to leave, I found myself back in the twisted world, with no escape. It was like the mirror had become a portal, a gateway to a world of horror and darkness.

I realized that there was only one way out. I had to face my twisted self, to confront the darkness within me. It was a battle that would determine the fate of both worlds and I knew I had to win.

The battle was brutal and bloody, with no holds barred. But in the end, I emerged victorious. The twisted version of myself was defeated and the world around me started to shift back to normal.

But I knew that I would never forget the horrors I had faced, the nightmares that had become reality. And every time I looked into a mirror, I would wonder if the twisted version of myself was still out there, waiting to come back.

I tried to put the horrors of the alternate reality behind me, but the memories lingered like a bad dream. The broken mirror remained in my home, a constant reminder of what I had gone through. I would try my best to avoid looking at it, but sometimes I would catch a glimpse of the twisted world behind the shards of glass.

It wasn't long before I started to notice strange things happening in my own world. Objects would move on their own, whispers would fill the air and shadows would flicker in the corners of my vision. I could feel the twisted reality bleeding into my own once again and I knew that the battle had only been a temporary victory.

One night, I woke up to find that the broken mirror had repaired itself. It hung on the wall, a shiny sur-face reflecting the room around me. I knew I should have smashed it again, destroyed it once and for all, but something held me back.

As I stared into the mirror, I saw the twisted version of myself staring back at me. It whispered promises of power and freedom, tempting me to step through the mirror once again. I knew I couldn't resist it forever.

In the end, I made a choice. I smashed the mirror once again, shattering it into a million pieces. But this time, I made sure to destroy every shard, to ensure that the twisted reality could never bleed into my own world again.

I thought it was over, but as I turned to leave the room, I saw a piece of glass embedded in my hand. I tried to pull it out, but it was like it was a part of me now, fused to my flesh. And as I looked at the re-flection in the remaining shards of glass, I saw the twisted version of myself staring back at me, with a smile that stretched too wide.

I knew that I would never be free of the horrors of the broken mirror, that the alternate reality would always be a part of me. And as I watched the twisted world bleed into my own once again, I realized that the battle had only just begun.

I spent years trying to come to terms with what had happened to me. I sought out experts in the supernatural, trying to find a way to rid myself of the twisted reality that seemed to be a part of me now. But no matter what I did, the horrors never truly went away.

As the years went by, I started to notice that the twisted reality was no longer just a part of my own world. It had spread, infecting the minds of others and bringing chaos and destruction wherever it went. And always, at the center of it all, was the twisted version of myself, still smiling that awful smile.

I knew that I had to do something, that I couldn't let the darkness win. So, I gathered a group of people who had been affected by the twisted reality, people who had seen the horrors of the alternate world firsthand. Together, we formed a resistance, fighting against the darkness wherever it appeared.

It was a difficult and dangerous battle, with no guarantees of success. But we persisted and slowly but surely, we began to make progress. We found ways to seal the portals between the worlds, to stop the twisted reality from bleeding into our own.

And in the end, we were victorious. The twisted version of myself was defeated and the horrors of the alternate reality faded away. But I knew that it was only a temporary victory, that the darkness would always be waiting, just beyond the reach of our world.

I still carry the piece of glass in my hand, a reminder of the horrors that I had faced. But now, it serves as a symbol of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is always a way to fight back against the darkness.

And as I look out at the world around me, I know that the battle is never truly over. But with each passing day, I feel a sense of hope growing within me, a belief that together, we can face any darkness that comes our way.