Story 351: Fractured Reflections

Zara’s fingers brushed the surface of the mirror, sending a ripple through the cracked glass. The room dimmed, the faint light of the butterfly glowing brighter, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Her reflection flickered, fragments of her past appearing in the broken shards.

She saw herself as a child, standing in a field of golden wheat, her laughter carried on the wind. The image shifted, replaced by the night of the outbreak—the chaos, the screams, the blood. Her parents’ faces surfaced, their final moments etched into her soul. Zara clenched her fists, her breath quickening.

“Do you see it now?” the Keeper’s disembodied voice taunted. “Every choice, every scar, has led you here. But will you accept it, or will you crumble under the weight of your own history?”

Callum stepped closer, his voice cutting through the tension. “Zara, don’t let it get into your head. This is just another one of its tricks.”