They say mirrors show the truth. But in this place?Mirrors show you what hurts the most.
Asher Blackwood stepped through the crooked carnival archway, the warped wood creaking beneath his boots.
The moment his foot crossed the threshold, the crimson ticket in his palm sizzled and disintegrated into fine ash, drifting upward like dying fireflies.
Above him, garish neon letters flickered erratically, buzzing with a broken rhythm:WELCOME TO THE HOUSE OF MIRRORS!And beneath, in dripping red paint:NO REFUNDS. NO ESCAPE.
He stared up at it, jaw tight."Yeah," he muttered, flicking ash off his coat sleeve. "Sounds about right."
The door slammed shut behind him.
The temperature dropped instantly. Cold sweat prickled his spine.
Meanwhile, back in the city…
At a greasy ramen stall tucked between crumbling tenements, Rosa Martinez hunched over her bowl, noodles slapping loudly as she slurped with the intensity of someone trying to chew through her anger.
She barely looked at the tiny TV bolted to the ceiling. But the ad kept blaring:
"Visit District 7's Carnival! Fun for the whole family! Ride the Ferris wheel! See the wonders!"
All while the news ticker underneath rolled grimly on:MISSING PERSONS RISE. STRANGE OCCURRENCES REPORTED. AUTHORITIES DENY CONNECTION.
Rosa snorted bitterly and stabbed her chopsticks down."Whole damn city's gone stupid," she growled.
Her phone buzzed, skittering across the counter. She sighed and glanced at the screen:Text from: Father Calder.Rosa. Blackwood's down there. It's getting worse. Stop eating and suit up.
She groaned and wiped her mouth with her sleeve."Can't a girl finish her noodles before saving this cursed city again?" she muttered.
But her stomach twisted in that familiar way — the bad way.
Because deep down, she knew.If Asher stayed down there much longer…He wasn't coming back the same.
Inside the House of Mirrors —
Asher's boots thudded dully on warped floorboards, each echo weirdly stretched out, like sound itself was twisting.
The mirrors lining the walls were all wrong.Too tall. Too narrow.And none of them reflected him properly.
In one, his reflection stood still, but its eyes were black pits, hollow and watching.In another, his grin stretched unnaturally wide, splitting his face from ear to ear.
He slowed, staring hard. His breath fogged against the cool air, but the reflections didn't mimic it.
Something's off.Really off.
Then came the whispers.
Soft at first, tickling the edges of his hearing.Then louder, urgent, crawling straight into his brain:
"You failed her.""You let them die.""You wear a mask just like us."
His fingers twitched. He yanked out his gun."Nope. Not today."
He squeezed the trigger.
BOOM.
Glass shattered in a sharp scream of splinters, but behind it?More glass.More lies.
He gritted his teeth and pressed forward, every nerve buzzing, every step heavy with dread.
Deeper in the maze, the lights dimmed, flickering like dying fireflies.
Then, in the next mirror, a figure appeared.
A woman.Her face… blurred, indistinct, but her presence slammed into Asher's chest like a hammer.
And her voice.Familiar. Too familiar.
"Asher… why didn't you save me?"
His throat closed up. He staggered back a step, gun wavering.
Memory hit — sharp and jagged.A case.A girl.A victim.He couldn't remember her face anymore, but her scream haunted him every night.
The mirror rippled like water.
Her pale hand pressed against the glass, fingertips dragging slowly, smearing condensation into pleading streaks.
Then — impossibly — her hand pushed through.
Cold flesh. Real.
Asher jerked back, but the walls were closing in.More mirrors flickered to life.More hands reached out.
Clawing.Grabbing.
All of them his ghosts.All of them his sins.
His breathing quickened. He twisted and fired again — another mirror shattered, but it was like punching water.
The carnival wasn't just messing with him.It was feeding on him.
And then —
Laughter.
Low, slow, and taunting.
The fox-mascot man from the ticket booth swaggered into view inside the largest mirror. His painted grin split wider, almost cracking the fur.
"Enjoying the show, Detective?" he crooned, tapping the glass mockingly. "You're the main act, after all."
Asher's jaw clenched. "You want a show? I'll burn this place down."
But before he could move, the reflections grabbed him — icy fingers gripping his arms, dragging him helplessly forward.
Toward the giant mirror at the end of the hall.
It pulsed… like a beating heart.
The fox's voice dropped to a whisper:"Time to face yourself."
Asher's reflection inside the throbbing mirror smirked, eyes glinting darkly."Time to switch places, partner."
The glass cracked — once, twice — then shattered completely.
And Asher felt a gut-wrenching pull.His body went numb as the mirror sucked him in.
[End Of Chapter 53]
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Preview of Next Chapter (54) — "Carnival of Faces"
With his identity unraveling and the mirrors leeching pieces of his soul, Asher must fight through the carnival's grotesque freak show — each act a twisted echo of his past mistakes. Meanwhile, Rosa finally reaches the carnival gates… but something monstrous waits for her in the shadows.Above ground, chaos blooms as carnival flyers begin latching onto people's skin, whispering promises no sane person should believe…