Chapter 7 - The Message in the Glass
Anna froze, her breath forming small white clouds in the freezing subterranean air.
The mirror set into the basement wall was caked in grime and green moss, but the reflection inside was crystal clear. Clara stood on the other side of the glass, wearing the bloody, torn silk dress. She raised her pale hands, pressing them flat against the inside of the glass.
Faint red palm prints appeared on the surface from within the mirror.
"Clara..." Anna whispered, stepping closer despite every instinct screaming at her to run. "You're... you're trapped inside?"
Clara nodded slowly in the glass. She couldn't speak aloud through the thick mirror, but her lips moved clearly, spelling out words with urgent precision:
THE... BLOOD... IS... THE... KEY.
Anna shook her head, confused. "What blood? The cut on my finger?"
Clara pointed down toward Anna’s right hand.
Anna looked down. The black smear where Julian had joined their blood in the chapel was glowing faintly under her skin, black veins spreading slowly up her wrist like tiny tree roots.
Clara pointed to her own chest in the glass—where the massive bloodstain soaked through her silk dress—and then pointed toward the ancient stone floor beneath the mirror.
Anna knelt on the cold dirt floor. Half-buried under centuries of dust and dry soil was a large brass metal plate set into the foundation stones, carved with the same twisting vines and crying faces as the mirror frames upstairs.
In the center of the brass plate was a shallow, dagger-shaped keyhole.
Anna remembered Clara's diary entry: The Sterling family line was cursed four hundred years ago... Every fifty years, the master of the house must sacrifice a bride to keep the estate’s fortune alive.
"This isn't just a house," Anna realized out loud, looking up at Clara in the glass. "It's an altar. The mirror is a prison created by Julian's ancestors to harvest souls!"
Clara nodded frantically in the glass, pointing behind Anna.
Heavy boots slammed down the stone steps of the basement corridor. Flashlight beams cut through the gloom.
"There she is!" a guard roared from the shadows.
Julian stepped into view behind the guards, holding a dark, antique silver dagger—the same blade he had used to cut her finger in the chapel.
" cornered at last, my dear," Julian said smoothly, stepping over the damp stone floor. "You've been very clever, Anna. Just like Clara was. But running only makes the final ritual so much more exhausting."
Anna stood up, backing her body against the ancient mirror, holding Clara’s diary in front of her like a shield.
"I know what you did, Julian!" Anna yelled, her voice ringing off the stone vaults. "You murdered Clara! You tricked her, tied her soul to this house, and used her life to pay for your family's wealth!"
Julian laughed softly—a hollow, terrifying sound.
"Murdered is such an ugly word," Julian said softly, raising the silver dagger. "I preserved her. Just as I am about to preserve you. Look around you, Anna! This grand estate, my fortune, my family's legacy—it all requires fuel. And the ocean spirits are very particular about the blood they consume."
May you like
He checked his pocket watch. The silver hands pointed to 11:55 PM.
"Five minutes until midnight," Julian murmured, his eyes flashing with dark madness. "Time to join your sister in the glass."
