Saying The Words

Haisley

I force down the fear. Right now, I've no choice but to say the words.

"Through the glass, the gate is torn…"

The reflection in the mirror begins to ripple, the glass warping as something stirs behind it. The room grows colder, darker, as if the very air is being sucked away. My voice falters as I say the final words, my heart pounding in my chest:

"Speak these words, and you'll be reborn."

The moment the final word leaves my lips, the air in the room shifts, growing impossibly colder. I stare into the mirror, my reflection rippling, distorting, as if the glass itself is breathing, warping under an unseen pressure.

The water rises to my throat now, frigid and suffocating, but I barely notice anymore. My eyes are locked on the mirror. Something is moving within it, something dark, something waiting.

Suddenly, the ripples still, and from the depths of the reflection, it appears.

The demon.

Its massive form unfurls within the glass like a shadow rising from the abyss. Its skin is as black as the void, twisted and malformed, tendrils of darkness clinging to it like smoke. But its eyes… those eyes are what hold me captive—two burning, crimson orbs that cut through the dim light, piercing straight into my soul.

I can't move. I can't breathe. The room disappears, the rising water forgotten, as my entire being is consumed by the demon's gaze. It doesn't blink, doesn't move—just watches, its presence suffocating, as if the very space between us is thick with malevolent intent.

My pulse pounds in my ears, but my body remains paralyzed. The air seems to vibrate around me, heavy with dread and power, as though the entire world is bending under the weight of this creature.

Is it real? My mind races, scrambling for any explanation. A hallucination? A nightmare? I want to believe it's just the game, that this is some kind of twisted illusion, but the way the air crackles, the way my skin crawls under its gaze—it feels too real.

A low, guttural sound rumbles from the demon, like a growl vibrating deep within the glass, reverberating through my chest. I feel it in my bones, in the pit of my stomach. And then, as though it senses my fear, its mouth curls into a slow, wicked smile.

The screaming behind the mirrors begins again, louder this time, filled with panic and terror. But now, it's not just the others. It's coming from within the mirrors. The demon watches, its smile growing wider, almost amused.

I try to speak, to call out, but my throat tightens, the words trapped, frozen with fear. I want to scream. I want to run. But I'm held in place, a prisoner to the thing staring back at me. My heart races wildly, my mind filled with the overwhelming need to escape—but there is no escape.

Suddenly, the demon moves. Its clawed hand presses against the glass, slowly, deliberately. The surface of the mirror shimmers and bends under its touch, warping like liquid, as if the barrier between us is dissolving.

"No…" I whisper, the word barely audible, lost in the cacophony of screams.

The demon's eyes burn brighter, glowing with an unnatural fire as it leans closer, its mouth opening to speak. The sound that follows is low, a growling whisper that seems to come from everywhere at once.

"You called me… Now you are mine."

The water around me surges suddenly, rising past my neck, creeping up to my jawline. It's freezing, biting at my skin, but all I can do is watch as the demon's form pushes against the glass, its clawed hand pressing harder, almost breaking through.

I feel it now. The panic. The reality sinking in that I can't stop this. That there's no escape from whatever I've unleashed. I start thrashing in the chair, pulling desperately against the ropes, but it's too late. The demon is coming, and I'm drowning.

The water reaches my chin. I tilt my head back, gasping for air, but it's no use. The countdown on the mirror flickers, but it doesn't matter. Time is irrelevant. The only thing that matters is the demon's red eyes, fixed on me with an unwavering hunger.

The water slips past my mouth now, rising up over my face, and I hold my breath, panic clawing at my throat. In the last moment before the water consumes me completely, I see the demon lean closer, its burning gaze the last thing I'll ever see.

And then… nothing.

Darkness swallows me whole, the icy grip of the water pulling me under. The last thing I feel is the demon's eyes, watching from beyond the glass, as everything fades to black.

I wake to the suffocating chill wrapping around me like a vice. My skin prickles, cold sweat clinging to me, and I don't dare open my eyes. Something's wrong—terribly wrong. The low hum of whispered voices creeps into my awareness, an unsettling chorus of fear.

I force my eyes open.

The room is massive, oppressive, its walls nothing more than rough brick and cement, looming like the walls of a prison. Every small movement I make echoes, bouncing off the cold, unforgiving surfaces. The air itself feels thick, heavy with dread.

My gaze shifts to the others—women, huddled together in the corner, their faces streaked with tears and terror. They're shaking, but it's not just the cold that's making their bodies tremble. My stomach tightens in a knot, unease clawing at my insides.

Then I see it.

A trail of blood, smeared across the floor, leading out of the room… but there's no door. The sight sends a cold rush of nausea through me, twisting my gut into knots.