When you break a mirror, they say you get seven years of bad luck.But what if the mirror breaks you first?
The monster towered above Asher, its warped body rippling like liquid glass. Every inch of it shimmered with flickering screens, the jagged cracks across its surface bleeding mercury like veins split open.
Every crack was a window—a personal hellscape.
One shard replayed the moment Asher had failed to pull a crying child from a burning wreck, flames licking the edges of the scene like hungry tongues.
Another showed Rosa sprawled motionless on the ground, eyes dull and unseeing, her blood pooling outward in slow-motion waves.
And worst of all, his own reflection:A face stretched into something feral, monstrous. Too many teeth. Eyes hollowed out, sockets brimming with black ichor.
The mirror-thing's voice came, a terrible chorus of breaking glass and grinding metal.
"Detective Blackwood…" it hissed, each syllable splintering in his ears. "Confess… your failure. Surrender. Become one of us."
Asher's grip tightened on his revolver, knuckles white under the cursed mask's strap. He could feel the thing pulsing against his skin, burning cold and hot all at once, a terrible heartbeat that wasn't his own.
Fear clawed at his throat, but rage burned it back. He'd bled for this city, for these people. He'd lost too much to let some warped circus nightmare chew him up and spit him out as just another victim.
"You picked the wrong broken man," he growled, his voice shaking but sharp as steel, "to mess with."
And then it moved.
The mirror-thing shattered apart, exploding into a thousand deadly shards that screamed through the air, jagged reflections catching the flickering carnival lights.
Asher dove, hit the ground hard, rolled—glass daggers embedded themselves where he'd just been. He fired off shots, but the bullets ricocheted, useless, bouncing off shards that didn't care about physics.
Every blink, every second—shards fluttered around him like hungry moths. One nicked his cheek, and he felt it try to settle, to mold, to replace. A cold, creeping sensation—like his skin was being peeled and re-cast into something hollow.
He snarled, yanking it free, but more came.
Meanwhile — Rosa:
Rosa charged through the carnival like a one-woman wrecking crew. Her boots thundered across candy-striped tiles slick with fake blood and melted popcorn butter.
A cotton candy vendor lunged at her—his face already half-melted into paper-mâché grins. Rosa's fist shot out, and the vendor burst into a cloud of sticky pink confetti, raining down like cursed snow.
A juggler tried to flank her, tossing flaming knives. Rosa didn't even blink—she spun and elbowed him in the gut. His body crumpled, head popping like a balloon, releasing a gasp of oily black smoke.
Balloon-animal children skittered toward her, their faces distorting, hissing like deflating tires. Rosa grinned.
"Oh, HELL no."
She dropkicked one square into a popcorn machine, where it popped like an overstuffed kernel.
Breathing hard, she scanned the midway.
"Where's Blackwood?!" she yelled, eyes darting.
And then she saw it—the House of Mirrors, its walls glinting like teeth in a monster's grin.
Her fists clenched. She grinned.
"Oh. That's definitely where the cursed freakshow is."
Back inside — Asher's breaking point:
He was cornered. His arms ached, his gun felt useless, and his breath came in ragged gasps.
The mirror-creature slithered closer, growing larger, its voice a chant now:
"Confess. Confess. Confess."
Visions hammered his brain—his worst moments played on loop. His failures, his regrets.
He saw his old mentor's death, played out like a cruel home movie. Rosa's face twisted in agony. Strangers he couldn't save. Faces blurring together in an endless parade of disappointment.
It clawed into him, tried to hollow him out.
And then… Asher snapped.
His voice roared, raw and defiant, echoing through the maze:
"I'M NOT PERFECT! I FAILED! I SCREWED UP! But I'm still standing. And I'm NOT YOURS!"
As if on cue—
CRASH.
The entire maze shook as Rosa kicked through the main mirror wall, a glittering explosion of glass and rage.
She stepped through the debris, eyes blazing.
"Surprise, motherflipper!" she shouted, grinning like a feral cat, shaking shards off her gloves.
The shockwave rattled the entire carnival.
Asher's eyes widened—his chance. He pivoted, heart slamming in his chest, and aimed not at the monster's head— but at the floor.
The shot rang out. The mirror base plate shattered.
The maze screamed.
The monster howled, lunging forward, claws out—
Asher didn't flinch. He surged ahead and headbutted the thing, the cursed mask on his face burning white-hot.
A concussive boom tore through the carnival.
The reflections shattered, all at once. The false audience disintegrated. The carnival's fake laughter went dead.
The mirror-creature cracked from head to toe, mercury bleeding out like molten silver. Its body spasmed, flailing.
Its last, broken whisper:
"You… will still wear… a mask…"
And then it collapsed, a final crash of glass and liquid metal, before it lay still.
Silence fell.
Asher stood, shaking, the mask finally sliding from his face with a hiss, steam rising.
The quiet was broken by a crunch—
Rosa climbed over the wreckage, her hair matted with glitter and confetti, eyes sharp. She looked around at the utter ruin.
"...You better have insurance for this mess, detective," she muttered, offering him a hand.
Asher took it, wincing as she hauled him to his feet. His voice came out rough:
"You punched a cursed mirror maze."
Rosa shrugged, grinning despite the chaos.
"Yeah. I punch my trauma. Worked, didn't it?"
She winked.
They stood together, the shattered carnival around them—breathing, alive, but victorious. For now.
As they stepped out of the ruins of the maze, blinking into the quiet night—
The sky rippled.
Dark, hunched shapes watched them from the rooftops, unmoving, eyes like pinpricks of light.
And far across the city, in a forgotten cathedral window—the serpent sigil flared to life, burning neon red.
The city wasn't done with them yet.Not by a long shot.
[End Of Chapter 55]
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Preview of Next Chapter (56) — "Neon Nights and Cursed Delights"
Asher and Rosa return to the city streets, thinking they've survived the carnival nightmare. But the cracks in the veil between worlds are spreading—and soon, the nightlife starts to bleed strange pleasures and stranger dangers. Expect demon barmaids, slice-of-life chaos, and just enough cursed nonsense to make them wish they stayed in the maze. But darkness is building… and the real nightmare is only beginning.