Reflections

His frame had condensed down to more normal proportions. He was merely on the tall side rather than gigantic. His skin was still pale, but it no longer glowed with a supernatural radiance. His hair was close cropped and darkish blonde in color. The features of his face were still recognizable, but they lacked the rugged angles and inhuman lines which had previously made them look so demonic. His ears were round, and his eyes did not burn with a sinister yellow light. His lean, hard body, was still very enticing, and his impressive manhood still made Mira long to touch it.

"Here, try on the pants," Mira suggested to distract herself from thinking about Brook's now human cock. She held them out, and Brook took them with a smile. His teeth were white, and they were perfectly smooth without any pointed tips.

"I don't usually go commando," he chuckled, examining the jeans.

"I want to see if they fit," explained Mira. In truth, she also wanted to see if the seat of the jeans outlined Brook's well-muscled butt as closely as she hoped.

She had wondered what it would be like to have sex with Brook when he was in this human form rather than when he was the Mistwalker. But it did not seem right to her, as though she would be asking him to have sex while wearing a mask. She was simply glad he could assume a more ordinary form so they would be able to share their mutual love of jazz together at the concert next week. In spite of their intimate talks and jaw-dropping sex they had been having over the past days, they had not been on anything resembling a normal date. She was still getting to know him, but she supposed being in a relationship with a being like Brook the Mistwalker would have some unique issues. Whatever they were, she could not help thinking they would be worth it.

Brook was fumbling with the front of the jeans and leaning down to put one leg into them. Mira could not suppress a smile from the amusing and arousing sight of him hopping nakedly about with the pants.

Her cell phone which had been sitting on the nightstand beside the bed all this time suddenly blared her ringtone. Electronic strands of "Summertime" blurted out so loudly it made her jump.

"By the Umbra, that's loud!" exclaimed Brook, almost toppling over before he managed to shove his second leg into the pants.

"I thought I silenced this thing," apologized Mira, grabbing up the phone. She wondered why the ringtone was so unbearably loud. It was turning the normally sultry jazz tune into a jarring discord. She frowned when she saw the mute switch was in the proper position, but the phone continued to shriek the ringtone.

"What is wrong with this stupid thing?" she complained. Frantically, she swiped the screen to answer the call if only to silence the cacophony filling the room. She glanced at the screen which only said "Unidentified Caller".

Suddenly the bedroom light flickered once then went completely out. The entire room was returned to darkness.

"What? Wait! Don't-!" Brook suddenly shouted. Before Mira do anything, her cell connected the call. The phone spoke out in a voice that made a chill shiver down her spine. It was a woman's whispering tone, but it was suffused with coldness and hate. The malicious voice spoke quickly, and her quiet, hissing words seemed to echo in the darkened room.

"Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary."

The full-length mirror on the other side of the bedroom suddenly moved as if it were alive. Its surface turned fluid and stretched outward, forming into a frightening, but obviously very feminine shape. The figure floated out into the bedroom and became a ghostly apparition. Ragged, white hair rose up in a waving cloud rising behind the apparition's head, and her voluptuous body was surrounded by a billowing nightgown covered with dark stains. The sensual curves of her figure were a startling contrast to her face which was a terrifying, gaunt visage with black, sunken eyes. Streams of blood ran down her forehead and emaciated cheeks, dripping onto the front of her nightgown and into the valley of her pale cleavage.

Mira felt a scream well up in her throat, but before she could utter a sound, the female apparition darted forward with hellish speed straight at Brook. Her fingers slammed into his exposed chest, and her hand formed a claw which dug into his flesh. Her fingers penetrated like spikes into his body. Brook let out a howl of anguish, and Mira found her scream.

The apparition ignored them both and pushed her hand further until it completely disappeared into Brook's chest. There was no blood, and the grasping hand seemed to sink into his shirtless torso like he was made of water.

"You wretch!" the apparition hissed from her lipless, skeletal mouth. Within her black, sunken eyes there gleamed two unholy pinpoints of pale light. She floated in the air over Brook whose face was clenched in pain. "You sully the very Umbra itself with your disgusting desires! You copy my legend and use it for tawdry sex with a human? You do not deserve your power!"

The apparition tore her arm backward and as she did so, her clutching hand drew out a dark, swirling mass of energy from Brook. It had an amorphous, vaguely humanoid shape. Yellow eyes glared out from the roiling mist, and it let out a howl of rage matched in volume by Brook's cry of agony.

"Leave him alone!" Mira shouted, shaking herself out of her dumbfounded shock.

She rushed at the hideous, ghostly creature, not sure what she was going to do. Before she took two steps, she was knocked to the floor when the apparition flung the writhing, spectral thing extracted from Brook straight at her. The enormous shape bowled her completely around so she ended up staring back after it as it flew past her. Her vanity stood on the other side of the room, and the hurtling thing hit the exact center of the vanity's round mirror. Rather than shattering, the glass absorbed the swirling mass as if it were being sucked through the frame, abruptly cutting off the swirling shape's inhuman howls.

Mira heard a loud groan, and she spun back around to see Brook suddenly collapsing as if fainting. The horrible, floating apparition caught him with one hand under his chin and easily held his tall form upright.

"I am not done with you, traitor," snarled the apparition.

"Leave him alone!" Mira shrieked again. The vanity's seat had been knocked close to her when the huge, dark mass had disappeared into the mirror. Mira grabbed the seat and charged the apparition with the piece of furniture cocked back for a tremendous swing.

The horrible apparition noticed her for the first time, and she made a contemptuous motion with one of her hands. Mira felt herself suddenly seized and lifted off the floor. Struggling, she twisted around and saw that the glass of her vanity's mirror had stretched out like a giant hand to grab her. The reflective surface felt as cold as steel, but it moved and slithered like a living thing.

"Don't." Mira heard Brook gasp weakly. "Don't hurt her."

Then she was yanked back through the air toward the vanity. Her nude body was struck and bruised as she was dragged through the mirror's wooden frame. She had a brief moment to try to grasp at the edges but the force pulling her was too great. She fell as though she had been thrown through an icy surface of water, then she landed painfully on her knees in a place filled with the deepest blackness she had ever imagined.

Mira turned around to see the vanity mirror was the only source of dim light in the endless void around. The mirror hung like a window in the emptiness. She flung herself up, clutching at its edges and trying to push back through it. But the glass had become flat and hard again. She could barely see back into her dark bedroom as the floating apparition carried Brook's limp, unclothed form toward the full-length mirror. The white-haired horror went through the mirror with Brook, and they were gone.

Mira did not know how long she pounded helplessly at the surface of the mirror. She did not know how long she screamed Brook's name. The rectangle looked back out onto her world while sealing her away from it. Eventually exhaustion overcame her, and her aching fists slid down the surface. She crumpled into a heap underneath it, her arms folding against her forehead. She barely registered the cold surface she laid upon in the formless void. She began to cry.

Then a flare of bright, white light made her lift up her head. The mirror had lit up with the familiar glow of an electric bulb. Someone had turned on a lamp in her bedroom.

Desperately hauling herself back up, Mira pressed her face against the mirror. Inside her room there stood a tallish man with short, black hair dressed in a long coat and nondescript clothes. He was looking around the room with deep, dark eyes.

"Help!" cried out Mira, hitting the surface of the mirror once more. "Help me!"

Her voice sounded strangely insubstantial, and there were no sound from any of the impacts of her fists against the mirror. The man walked around the room, his handsome face not registering a thing. In dawning horror, Mira saw the vanity mirror reflected in the full-length mirror across from it. The vanity mirror showed nothing but the reflection of the man and the bedroom. She could not see herself at all. Mira realized then that the man could not hear her either. Tears of panic and frustration ran down her cheeks, and she slapped her palms against the unyielding glass without any effect.

"Please! Please, I'm right here!" she sobbed.

The man paused, and abruptly he turned toward Mira. In a startled surge of hope, she thought he was looking at her. He stepped toward the vanity and leaned down in front of it, his expression intent.

"I'm in here!" Mira called out. She frantically waved her hands in front of the stranger's face which was only inches away, but she could feel the terrible, unnatural gulf that separated them.

The dark-haired man reached into his coat and pulled out a cell phone. He placed it up with the back against mirror's surface. He ran a finger over the screen on the other side. The phone's light came on, but it flashed with a strange, uneven, strobing pattern. Mira felt the lights playing over her face with a tingling sensation.

Without warning, the stranger suddenly reached into the mirror with his other hand and grabbed Mira by her arm. His grip was like a vice, and he yanked her toward him. Mira did not care about the pain; she clutched at his hand and held on as hard as she could even as she was pulled against the mirror's hard surface.

Abruptly, the mirror yielded and again Mira had the sensation of falling through a vertical pool of icy water. Then she was coming out over the tabletop of her vanity while the stranger braced one of his booted feet against the edge, tugging and lifting her through the mirror's frame. Mira banged her shins painfully as she came back into her bedroom, knocking aside the few remaining make-up accessories still on the top of the vanity. Then she was completely away from the vanity. The stranger released her, and she collapsed to her knees on the floor. She could not hold back a sob of relief at the familiar feel of the carpet.

"Huh, I'm glad I managed to make that work," the dark-haired stranger spoke in a pleased-sounding voice. Mira turned to look at him, wiping the tears of terror and relief from her cheeks. The man knelt down next to her, his dark eyes searching. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. Yes I think so," Mira answered, struggling to get a hold of herself. "Thank you! Thank you for saving me."

The stranger held out his hand, and Mira took it. His grip was warm and steady, and he helped her to her feet. Mira swayed a bit, her legs were wobbly, but after a moment she was able to stand without support. She had never been so glad to be back in her bedroom.

"Okay then!" the stranger said, clapping his hands together. "You seem good! Just take a couple of aspirin and you'll be fine in the morning. I'll see you later. Or probably not." He gave her a cursory wave and turned to leave.

"What? Wait!" exclaimed Mira. "What's going on? What was that horrible thing? What did she do to Brook? Who are you?"

"Er, look. I can stick around and answer your questions..." the man replied. He glanced down at her then turned around, presenting his back and gazing up at the far corner of the bedroom. "...but maybe you put on some clothes?"

That was when Mira remembered she was still completely naked. With an embarrassed cry, she flung her arm over her full breasts and her hand shot between her legs, covering her still sticky pubis. She twisted herself to hide her front side, but to her relief, the stranger continued to face away from her. Mira saw the closest garment in the room was her robe which lay beside the bed where Brook had flung it.

She quickly put on the garment, her cheeks hot. She covered up her embarrassment by asking, "I'm very grateful you saved me, but can I ask, who are you?"

"My name is Rory," he said. He looked cautiously over his shoulder and after seeing Mira in a less naked state, he turned back around. "I'm an acquaintance of the Mistwalker."

"I'm Mirati. Mira to my friends." Mira was conscious how very, very short her robe was. She tugged at the hem, but it went no further down her bare thighs. She had bought the robe because she wanted to entice Brook when he saw her in it. She felt a renewed pang of concern for him. "What happened? What did that thing do to Brook?"

"Look, are you sure you want to know?" Rory asked, his eyes thoughtfully regarding her. "This doesn't really have to concern you. What happened to the Mistwalker isn't your fault. Although technically, I suppose some might say it is partly your fault, but I don't think so myself."

"What does that mean?"

"The Mistwalker went against traditions when he became infatuated with you," Rory replied. "There are powerful beings who feel nightmare creatures should not engage in romantic relations with humans. The Mistwalker thought he could get away with seeing you. I warned him, but he didn't listen. And it looks like he got caught."

"Did you see what happened to him?" he inquired. "I think I can guess, but can you tell me what you saw?"

Mira did not want to remember anything of the hellish, terrifying encounter, but she nodded. She felt her debt to Rory, and so she described everything she saw as best as she could recall from the appearance of the ghastly woman to her ripping something out of Brook to them both leaving through the mirror. When she was done, Rory nodded.

"That's what I thought," he said grimly. "The essence of the Mistwalker stripped and sent away by Bloody Mary."

"That was Bloody Mary?" Mira asked "That thing really was the Bloody Mary from the myths?"

"Not 'the' Bloody Mary. She's 'a' Bloody Mary. The current one. It's a kind of title or mantle, you see," Rory explained. "Just like the Mistwalker. There are others, like the Headless Horseman or recent ones like the Slenderman. Some nightmares from the Umbra use human anchors to manifest in our world, if that makes any sense."

It did not, but that was not what bothered Mira. She had never thought of Brook as being human. She had considered his human shape as a disguise and the Mistwalker as his real form. She wondered why he had never said anything about it, then she guiltily remembered the times he had mentioned there were things he wanted to talk about with her. She had always ended up distracting them, or asking about superficial things like his tastes in music or books. Mira wondered if she had been deliberately avoiding any serious discussion with Brook because she was afraid they might lead to something which would frighten her away. She did not want to be given a reason to stop seeing him.

"So you're saying Brook is-was human?" she asked. "Before he became the Mistwalker?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that. The Mistwalker and Brook are the same being. The Mistwalker is a force of the Umbra spawned from fear. It's an almost instinctive essence of power, but each manifestation of it in our world is unique and influenced by the human who becomes its anchor.

"That's why legends of nightmare entities seem inconsistent sometimes. They can change and evolve, shaped by the knowledge and experiences of their human anchors. Like those cursed video tape gals who used to come out of TV sets, for example. The latest of them is using a cursed MP4 file and coming out of computer monitors."

"So Brook...he doesn't steal people souls like the Internet myths say?" she asked. "He told me he didn't, and I believe him but..."

"It's pretty obvious this incarnation of the Mistwalker is more interested in doing other things, isn't it?" Rory asked. "Doing things with one particular person, I should say."

Mira felt her cheeks blush.

"Isn't there something I can do to help him?" she asked earnestly. "There must be something!"

"Well, actually there is a way you could help to save him," Rory replied with an odd look at her. "And it wouldn't even put you in any great risk. But I really can't expect you to do it." He held up his hands and shrugged his shoulders.

"What? Why wouldn't I?" demanded Mira. "How could I just let Brook end up trapped in a mirror like I was?"

"Oh, what's going to happen to him at Bloody Mary's hands is much worse."

"Then that's all the more reason I should help!" Mira exclaimed. She was almost shouting. "Especially if it's as easy for me to do as you say!"

"I never said it would be easy," Rory corrected. "I said it wouldn't put you at any great risk. The Mistwalker has basically been split into an almost mindless, instinctive essence and its human anchor. That scary demonic thing you saw Bloody Mary take out of Brook is the Mistwalker's essence. Bloody Mary intends it to find another anchor. That will create a new incarnation of the Mistwalker If that happens, it won't do Brook any good, let me tell you."

"So how can I help him?"

"You need to have sex with the scary demonic thing. You need to have sex with the essence of the Mistwalker."

Mira blinked. "Are you serious?" she asked.

"I just pulled you out of mirror, do I look serious?" Rory responded.

He looked serious.

It was not long afterward that Mira found herself once more inside the black void that lay beyond her bedroom mirrors. This time she was not alone. She was following a creepy figure in a billowing, black cloak. The figure silently floated ahead of her. Rory had instructed her to follow whoever she met on the other side the mirror, and her guide would lead her to wherever the essence of the Mistwalker would be. Mira was not at all eager to re-enter this frightening mirror-world, and her silent, eerie guide did not make her feel any more comfortable.

Mira reminded herself that Rory had said she would be in no danger. He had rescued her, and she felt she could trust the strange, sardonic man. Also she desperately wanted to do something to help rescue Brook.

"One last thing," Rory had told her as she stood before the full-length mirror into which Brook had disappeared with Bloody Mary. "Make the Mistwalker cum quick."

"What?" Mira had asked, taken aback at his words.

"While you're seducing the raw essence of the Mistwalker, I have the unenviable task of keeping Bloody Mary occupied so she doesn't hurt your boyfriend. Blood Mary is a powerful being, so make sure to make it a quickie, got that?"

Mira could only nod and then she had stepped into her mirror at Rory's gesture. She had felt that same chilling feeling as though she was passing through a plane of ice.

The void on the other side was not as frigid, but it was still uncomfortably cold. Mira wished she had taken more than her indecently short robe. The darkness around her was deep and foreboding. She had never considered how there had been a surface to stand upon when she had been trapped inside the vanity's mirror. Now that she was not distracted by her panic, she could feel a solid surface against her bare feet. It was like she was walking on an endless plane of glass.