Chapter 134: The Mirrorverse
Cold.
Empty.
Soundless.
Dante opened his eyes.
STAR Labs stood still around him. But it wasn't the one he knew—this place was quiet in a way that didn't make sense. There was no buzz of tech, no distant chatter, not even the humming of electricity. Just… silence. Absolute.
He looked around. No Barry.
He turned back. No portal.
Just him.
Dante sighed.
He walked through the Cortex—nothing.
He passed the med bay—empty.
He opened every door he found, peeked into every hallway. Nothing.
No people. No movement. No life.
But not even that bothered him. It wasn't the emptiness.
It was the silence.
The wrongness of it. The way his brain itched like something was crawling across his thoughts.
That's when he saw him.
Cisco. Standing at the far end of the hallway. Staring with empty eyes.
No spark. No grin. Just… hollow.
Dante didn't blink. He moved forward, pulled out his knife, and without a word—stabbed him through the chest.
"See you later, friend," he whispered.
Cisco shattered like glass.
Dante didn't stop moving.
Next was Caitlin. Then Joe. Then Wells. Killer Frost. Leon. Michael. All of them, appearing like phantoms in the corners of rooms. All with vacant eyes. All without speaking.
He killed them without emotion. One strike, one move. They dissolved like smoke or mirrors.
But soon, they started to fight back.
Mirror versions of his friends. Of his brothers. Of himself. Twisting their movements, charging him, yelling things that didn't match their faces.
It didn't matter.
Dante fought through them like wind through ash.
They were fast. Strong. Vicious. But they weren't him.
Then finally—he saw him.
Barry.
He stood at the end of a corridor, not hollow. Not fake. Eyes real. Breathing fast.
"Finally," Barry said. "I found you, man."
Dante narrowed his eyes. Silent. Then he threw the knife.
Barry blurred and dodged just in time.
"What the hell, man?!" Barry yelled.
Dante grinned. "Just testing."
Barry picked up the knife, flipped it in his hand, and offered it back.
They walked together down the next hallway.
Dante lit a cigarette.
"Find anything?" he asked.
Barry sighed. "No, man. Nothing. I kept seeing mirror versions of our friends. I… I killed them. Quickly. I knew they weren't real."
Dante nodded, dragging smoke through his lungs.
"Smart," he said, then looked at Barry. "But dumb."
Barry frowned. "What?"
Dante's hand moved too fast to see.
The knife drove into Barry's chest.
Barry gasped, looking down, eyes wide in shock and pain.
Dante leaned in close. "The real Barry wouldn't kill them. Even if they were fakes. He wouldn't risk it. Wouldn't touch his family—not even their shadows."
He smiled coldly.
"So next time, try harder. This game's getting boring."
He twisted the knife. Barry's body shattered into shards of broken mirror.
Dante exhaled smoke and kept walking.
This was his kingdom now.
He was the king.
Then—he heard something.
A voice.
Crying.
He moved quickly, footsteps echoing faintly down the dark hallway. He turned a corner—
And saw her.
Patty.
She stood behind a cracked mirror, hands pressed against the glass. Her eyes were red. Her voice desperate.
"I'm here! Guys, I'm here!"
Dante tilted his head. "Well, well, well…"
She turned. Her body shivered violently.
"Please," she whispered. "Please stop. I'm begging you. Please stop…"
Dante's expression twisted. "What the hell? Patty, it's me."
But she backed away, tears on her face. "No… no, you're not. You're not! They keep coming… You keep coming! Over and over. Laughing. Hurting me. Please stop."
Dante stared at her.
Then it clicked.
She thought he was one of them.
"Damn it," he muttered. He exhaled and took a slow step forward. "Okay, love. Listen. Look at me. Do you really think there's another version of this?" He motioned to himself. "Red hair. Red eyes. Cigarette. That dangerously handsome face. C'mon, be serious."
Patty blinked.
She stared hard.
Then her lip trembled. "Dante…?"
He smiled softly. "Of course, it's me, love. I came to save your behind because your husband is about five seconds away from having a breakdown."
She ran forward and hugged him, sobbing into his chest.
"I've been here for days," she said through choked breaths. "I'm losing my mind. They keep coming—Barry, Nora, you. Over and over. They laugh. They hurt me. And then they vanish."
He wrapped an arm around her gently.
"It's over," he said. "I'm here now. Barry's here too. We'll find him and get you out. I promise."
Patty nodded shakily. "Okay…"
They started walking down the corridor.
Then they saw him.
Barry. Running toward them, eyes wide with emotion.
"Patty!" he called.
She cried out, ready to run—
But Dante stepped in front of her, hand up, blade drawn, held near Barry's throat as he stopped short.
"How do we know it's really you?" Dante asked coldly.
Barry stopped, staring.
"It's me, for God's sake! Now please—move. Let me hug my wife before I lose it and start crying for real."
Dante stared at him a moment longer. Then smirked.
"That's Barry."
He stepped aside.
Barry rushed in and pulled Patty into his arms. They kissed, hugged, clung to each other like the world was ending again.
Dante looked away, giving them space.
But then—
He saw her.
A woman at the far edge of the hall.
She was standing in shadow, half-lit by the mirrorlight. Her eyes were wide—too wide. Her mouth curled in a smile that stretched too far. She scratched her arms, nails tearing at skin already raw.
Her hair was messy. Her clothes torn. Her presence—wrong.
Like a ghost that had forgotten how to pretend to be human.
She stared at them.
Stared at Dante.
That smile didn't fade.
Didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Dante's cigarette dropped to the floor, burning out at his feet.
This wasn't a mirror version.
This was something else.
And it was watching.
-------
You can contact me through my official page on the following Accounts:
telegram:
miraclenarrator
tiktok:
miracle_narrator
instagram:
miracle_narrator