Why am I cold? I sit up and go to remove the cover, but instead of a cover, it is snow.

  Snow? What the hell? I was in the inn and Roharu was there too, but there is no Roharu here. No inn. No Apollo.

  Nothing but snow.

  Shit.

  I struggle to my feet, teeth chattering from the gush of wind. Where am I? Some kind of forest or woods, maybe? The trees are bare except for the bnket of snow on their branches and a couple of icicles dangling from the tips. It has to be daytime, though I cannot make out the sun. It’s far too cloudy.

  “Shelter. I need to find shelter.” My fingers tremble as I run them up and down my arms for some kind of warmth, but it is no use. My top is thin, sleeveless, and my pants are no better. Silk is nice to sleep in, but after this, I will be asking for warmer sleep wear. “They could have transported my shoes at least,” I grumble as I walk through the snow. It comes up to my knees. How am I even alive? I should have been buried alive or frozen.

  I look back over my shoulder and squint. No footsteps. My pulse quickens. Another magical forest? A dream?

  “Please let this be a dream. There should be footsteps or something in the snow.” I look back as I walk forward. The snow doesn’t move. It doesn’t topple over and fill the hole. The path I am creating just ceases to exist.

  Crap. Crap. Crap.

  “Okay, just think. If there are no footsteps, then if anyone or anything is hunting me right now, they won’t have a path to go off of. But then neither will Roharu. Shit. Okay, Roharu knows what I smell like. He’s a fox, so his nose is stronger than mine. But...” I stare at the trees, how the branches arch overhead and twist as if they are embracing one another. All the trees look like this. I can keep going forward, but if I veer off the path to find a cave or somewhere with more warmth, then what? There’s no way for me to mark where I’ve gone.

  Snap.

  I whirl around. Where did that come from? My eyes dart around, but there’s nothing but the trees and snow. So much snow. My fingers are growing numb.

  Snap.

  I suck in a breath and wince. Even the air hurts. My lungs burn. The temperature is dropping or maybe the cold is getting to me and I’m just losing my mind. Maybe I lost my mind long ago.

  “If this is a dream, I’d like a change in scenery. Or to wake up.” I look up at the sky. Nothing. Of course. “Lovely. I’m stuck here, huh?”

  Snap.

  My heart jumps. I push down the urge to run, not that I would get far if I did. It is taking everything to put one foot in front of the other. The snow is cumbersome. The wind is literally taking my breath away. Death by snow. After everything I’ve been through, this is how I die.

  I blow out a breath. A ball of ice forms and falls. The fall is anticlimactic. The ball of ice nds in the snow without so much as a crunch, but the ground shakes.

  Snap.

  The ground cracks and I’m falling. I stretch my arms out, trying to grasp onto anything, but there is nothing. Not even snow. I squeeze my eyes shut. If I don’t see it, then somehow that makes things better. My heart beats so hard, I wonder if I will die from the heart attack before the fall.

  I open one eye and then my other. Oh, I’m floating. Wherever I am, it is warmer—a lot warmer than that forest—but nothing is familiar. This doesn’t look like my room at the inn, nor does it look like the vilge. There are candles illuminating the room and some kind of symbol on the floor.

  Oh shit.

  The mirror. I dreamed this earlier, but there are no hooded figures this time, and the room is different. Still creepy. On the wall is another mirror, but there are chains over it. Either it is defective, or they summoned something from that mirror they do not want to get out. It has a gold trim. Wouldn’t it be better to cover it with a cloth and then put chains on it? My brows pinch together as the room changes.

  This room is more vibrant. It looks like someone actually lives here. Against the wall is a twin-sized bed with three medium-sized pillows. The cover and sheets are purple with an outline of a flower. There is a faux white fur rug in front of the bed. The walls are some off-gray color. There is a single mp in the corner of the room next to a window. On top of the white dresser is a family portrait. I try to pick it up, but my hand goes through it.

  “Don’t tell me I’m a ghost and I died in my sleep.” That would be the worst, but not as bad as dying from frostbite.

  The door opens, and the woman looks right at me or, well, she looks at where I should be. Surely if she can see me, she would scream, yell, or do something to indicate there is a stranger in her room, but she does none of those things. She gnces away, her brown eyes darken until they are nearly bck, and marches over to a mirror trimmed with gold.

  She stares at herself, or rather she studies the mirror itself. There is a reflection of her, but no reflection of me. I hold up a hand and wiggle my fingers. So weird. I have feeling, so I can’t be dead.

  “Alright, so I just asked for what I want, right?” The woman asks. She brushes her bck hair back behind her ears. It goes down to the middle of her back. She’s wearing jeans that fre out at the bottom and a shirt with some cartoon character on it. She looks young, maybe early twenties.

  But why is she talking to the mirror and why can’t I leave? Granted, this room is a lot better than being in the cold or in that creepy dungeon like pce, but it feels as though I am intruding. I pinch my arm and wince. Yep, felt that alright.

  “This is so stupid,” she mutters. “But it’s not like this will hurt anything. Yeah. It’s just manifesting.” She nods and then pnts her hands on her hips as she peers at the mirror. “Okay, mirror mirror on the wall, grant me all that I desire from the depth of my heart.” She stares at the mirror for a while longer and then ughs. “God, that sounded so stupid. As if a mirror could help me like some genie. That old dy was probably high or just pin lonely.”

  The mirror glows, but the woman turns her back and heads out of the room, shaking her head as she goes.

  Uh.

  I look at the door and then at the mirror. I’m no expert on mirrors, but they aren’t supposed to glow, and the gss isn’t supposed to change colors either.

  “Get back here!” I yell, but my voice comes out in a puff. “Seriously?” I grumble and approach the mirror, keeping a reasonable amount of distance. I can’t talk, I can’t interact with anything. What’s the point of bringing me here if I can’t help?

  Crack.

  I stifle a scream. Two long bck insect legs emerge from the mirror, followed by more legs, and then finally the body. The insect is half the size of the mirror. It has two eyes that look almost holographic and two antennae that are pointed at the tips. The body is red, but the bottom is green like the color of puke.

  I feel like puking.

  The smell coming from that thing is disgusting. Like something left to rot in the middle of the road during summer. Another insect comes out of the mirror, smaller, but no less grotesque. There is something alien-like about them. Could be that I have never seen an insect as rge as them or it could be how their butts glow and a liquid of sorts slushes around.

  They crawl over to the door. The rger one stands and presses its body against the door. No luck. The door doesn’t budge. The rge insect lowers to the ground and the smaller one jumps on its back. It fiddles with the doorknob until the door creaks open and the light from the hall spills in.

  Oh no.

  Is there nothing I can do? If they go out there, then what? They are way too big to be harmless, and whatever that glowing liquid is, it does not look good.

  They stand in the room and stare out into the hall with the smaller insect still on top of the rger one. The smaller one rubs its legs together, creating a sound that reminds me of a violin. It does that over and over, communicating with the other one.

  “Come on, there has to be something I can do.” I blow out a breath and wave a hand in the air. It connects with the picture on the dresser and this time, instead of going through the frame, my hand knocks the picture down. It nds on the ground with a soft thud.

  The insects stop and whirl their heads in my direction. They click their mandibles and scurry over to the mirror. The rger one stands and motions with its legs. Whatever they are saying to one another cannot be good, but at least they are no longer trying to head into the rest of the apartment or house.

  “These things couldn’t have been her heart’s desire,” I mutter as I cross my arms. The insects tap at the mirror, but nothing happens. The mirror does not glow. It does not so much as move from the incessant tapping. So, they can come out of the mirror but they can’t go back in?

  There is nothing in this room to hit them with, either. Not one fly swatter. Well, even if there was a fly swatter in here, it wouldn’t be rge enough to do anything to them. I blow out another breath, exasperated by the situation. The insects stop hitting the mirror and turn towards the door. They cock their heads to the side.

  Footsteps.

  I cover my face with my hands and peek out through the gaps of my fingers. That poor woman is going to walk in here and see these giant insects and lose her mind. She walks back into the room and lets out a scream so loud it could shatter gss. I wince and press my hands over my ears.

  The insects vibrate violently and shake and shake until their heads are like bobble heads. They knock into one another. The liquid from the rger insect spills out. Some of it hits the smaller one, and it doesn’t so much as scream as it snaps its legs together in a frenzied motion. Smoke waffles in the air from the liquid.

  Acid.

  The woman yells some more and points a finger at the acid eating away at the portrait on the floor. She runs out of the room, smming the door behind her. I turn my attention back to the decomposing insects. They twitch before succumbing to the acid. It bubbles and eats away at the faux fur rug, but not the floor itself.

  She comes back into the room with a bat in her hands. Her eyes are dark from fear.

  “Is this the same mirror?” I frown as I look away from her and back at the mirror. This room reminds me of home. Either this is my world, or this is a world simir to mine, but if it is my world, why is there a magical mirror here? I press my lips together as I consider the mirror. Would it take me back if I touched it?

  This is the worst idea ever, but... I float over to the mirror and touch it with my index finger. It hums and glows purple.

  Oh.

  “Who the fuck are you!”

  Huh?

  She can see me?

  “You can see me?” I turn and point a finger at myself, but she doesn’t react to my words. “Hello?” I wave a hand in the air, but she stares past me. The bat slips out of her fingers as she falls to her knees.

  Is it the mirror?

  I gnce back and terror grips me in its embrace. In the mirror is a face. A man, maybe. Its skin is pale, deathly pale. The blue hood covers its eyes but leaves the mouth uncovered. I swallow back the lump of fear. Whatever this thing is, it sees me. It stretches its mouth until there is nothing but darkness.

  Great.

  AutumnBanks

  Thanks for reading and take care of yourselves! Lots of colds and illnesses around this time.