The Mirror of Terror

Surrounded by silent darkness, a light shone ahead.

Freyja cautiously turned her head, confirming she could touch nothing and see nothing.

It seemed she had no choice but to walk toward that light.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly stepped forward, her toes first touching the ground.

“A solid, even feel. The floor here is made of stone bricks, just like before… Hmm… I suppose a deep pit won’t suddenly open up and swallow me, nor will something trip me, right?”

Silently mocking the scene’s extreme frugality, Freyja walked step by step toward the light source.

“Hahahaha… Boohoo… Hahahaha…”

From the left came an incoherent wailing, as if multiple mouths were speaking intermittently.

Freyja stopped, turned her head leftward with a hint of confusion.

The sound vanished with her movement, and silence returned.

To the left was still pitch black, but even without sight, she sensed something lurking there.

“Boohoo… Hehehehe…”

A sound came from the right, softer than before. This time Freyja didn’t turn immediately but listened carefully.

The pitch was high, not like a normal person’s voice.

“Hehehehe… Hehehehe…”

The sound grew clearer and closer. Freyja even felt a moist breath against her right ear. It seemed to have reached her ear.

She turned—

The sound vanished instantly, the silence around her deafening.

Her heartbeat quickened. She swallowed, took a deep breath, and silently reminded herself not to panic—this must be an illusion.

“An… illusion?”

A low, hoarse whisper blew into both ears, carrying warm, rank air and a hint of stench.

“Who’s there!”

She thrust both hands outward simultaneously, flames blazing in her palms. She turned, perhaps trying to ease her tension by feigning anger.

She touched nothing. The empty sensation made her dizzy.

“Clearly… I should have felt something… I sensed something on both sides…”

The flames illuminated nothing in this space. Unwilling to waste mana, she hesitated, then dispelled the [Flame Spell].

“I’ll head to the brighter place… Huh?”

A cold, wet sensation spread under her feet. She slowly lowered her gaze, trying to see her feet.

She couldn’t see, but the floor no longer felt smooth; it was sticky, as if she had stepped on something.

Her heartbeat raced, and her breathing grew ragged.

“This must be… something affecting me. They said I need to get out of this formation quickly. It’s probably… an illusion to make me give up. Hoo—” She took another deep breath. “Don’t be nervous. Just keep moving forward.”

So this time, ignoring the surrounding sounds, she strode ahead step by step.

It seemed to work. No matter how clear the noises, she didn’t turn, only advanced.

And when she saw what the glowing object was, she even felt something pressing against the back of her head.

Don’t turn, don’t get distracted. It’s all illusions.

Comforting herself thus, she fixed her gaze on the light source.

It was a large rectangular full-length mirror, its frame old and its surface dusty and gray, casually placed on the floor.

Freyja looked up and said, “So the mirror isn’t glowing—it’s reflecting light from above…”

Something seemed to lick the back of her head, and her body inexplicably grew weary.

She stepped forward, crouched beside the mirror, and after a moment’s thought, tried to gather water elements to clean the surface.

The method was simple: condense mana at her fingertips, then channel the water elements…

“What…” Freyja stared at the constantly growing water sphere, her eyes filled with disbelief, goosebumps spreading down her back. “How… I clearly condensed water elements…”

Her voice faded, and the air around turned ice-cold.

Completely unexpected, the water elements in the air gathered, but instead of a water sphere, they formed a sticky, foul-smelling liquid.

Blood.

The dark red blood surged due to unstable mana supply. With a momentary lapse, the congealed blood blob dropped onto the mirror.

Her body suddenly became incredibly heavy. She couldn’t even stand up.

The surrounding sounds grew chaotic. Incomprehensible whispers swirled around her head—distorted sounds impossible to grasp or describe.

“Ugh… uwaaah… AAAAAAH—”

Freyja clutched her head and let out a piercing scream, pouring all her strength into it.

“Ha— Ha— Ha—”

The scream silenced everything. For a moment, aside from her own breathing and heartbeat, the world returned to nothing.

This time, it was dead silence.

Head bowed, she placed her hand on the mirror. A mixture of blood and dust stuck to the surface; she had to wipe it away to see inside.

Slowly, she exerted force and wiped a corner, revealing a clear glimpse of her own reflection.

“…”

Freyja had no desire to speak. She was about to sweep her arm from right to left…

But then the blood on the mirror began to flow. Her eyes widened. From above her right shoulder, a dark, scarred arm slowly extended.

The arm was thick, twisted, slick with dark red blood. The moment it emerged, it pressed against the mirror, right next to her palm.

“Ha…”

She didn’t lift her palm—not because she dared not, but because she couldn’t. Her body was frozen, unable even to breathe.

The smell in the air shifted sharply, bringing a sour, burnt odor.

Then the bloody hand moved. In her vision, it slid from right to left, wiping away dust and blood, clearing a distinct area on the mirror.

“Ugh…”

Her body felt as if immersed in ice water—stiff and sluggish. She didn’t even have the courage to close her eyes.

In the mirror, Freyja saw her own pale face, and on her right shoulder, a shapeless, pus-covered head.

The head seemed to be smiling…

So you’ve been on my back all along.

“Boohoo… Hehehehe…”

It was the same tone as before. So that’s where the sound was coming from…

Plop—

That hand punched through the mirror, but she felt a tearing pain.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAH—”