Chapter 30: Drunk

I raised the bottle to my lips and chugged. Champagne buzzed over my tongue, down my throat, tangy and sweet and strong... My lips came away with a gasp. I felt light-headed. Well, more light headed.

I swooned. Still gripping the bottle, I fell back onto the hardwood floor. Though I heard the sound of my body hitting the floor, I didn't feel it. I didn't feel anything. My entire body was numb. Numb and swirling, like I was floating in water—cold water, cold enough to sap all warmth and feeling from my extremities until I felt nothing.

Nothing was exactly what I had been chasing... but it wasn't enough. The nothingness didn't reach deep as I needed it to. It didn't reach the one place I needed it most, the throbbing, raw thing in the center of my chest. It pulsed weakly, every beat coming and going with a stab of pain, like limping along on a broken ankle.

I rolled to my side, dragging the bottle up to my mouth again. There wasn't much left, but I did my best to drain what was. Bubbles spilled out the side of my mouth, running down my cheek, pooling on the floor in a fizzy, foaming mess. Whatever, I thought as I wiped at my face with my shirt. It didn't matter if this place was a mess. He was never coming back anyway.

Thinking of him sent a flare of anger through me, cutting through the numbness. In a fit of rage, I lurched up and threw the now-empty bottle at the wall. My destructive impulse hoped it'd smash spectacularly, sending glittering shards into every corner of the shop. As the bottle sailed through the air, I smiled, imagining it.

The bottle slammed into the wall, but it didn't break. It didn't even crack. It just hit with a loud thunk—leaving a nice, rounded dent in the plaster—and then toppled to the floor, still in one piece. I glared at the traitor bottle as it began to roll listlessly across the room.

My head felt heavy. I slumped forward across my legs as I listened to the stupid bottle roll and roll... But I could still hear the bottle going... and going. The room must be uneven, came a distant thought. Not surprising for such an old building...

Just as I was about to drift off, there was strange ting and, finally, the bottle's rolling stopped. My curiosity got the better of me and I glanced up.

The bottle had managed to travel quite the distance. It had rolled across the entire room, coming to a stop at the far wall. It sat right at the foot of the warped mirror, which had been leaned against the wall. The mirror had been left there since Luc—my hands tensing into fists as I thought of him—had brought it home from the seancé. It's cracked face was turned inwards, away from the room.

I looked away from it, curling inwards and resting my forehead on my knees. I regretted ever buying that stupid mirror. Once intended to be an interesting conversation piece, now it only creeped me out. I wished I take it to the dumpster and be done with it.

Only I couldn't go outside.

With a shudder, I wrapped my hands around the back of my neck, pressing my head into my knees. I tightened around myself and ground my teeth together.

I still couldn't quite believe that he'd actually done it—left me here. Trapped me here.

And I really was trapped. After he disappeared, I had tried everything—every door, every window. I had even tried pounding on the big picture window in the shop, trying to get the attention of anyone passing by on the sidewalk. But no one heard me, no one saw me. He had made sure of that. It made sense, in a sick kind of way. The whole trapping-me-inside thing would fall apart if the whole world could see me in here, screaming to be let out.

I trembled as another scream built in my chest. I threw my head back to let it out. It was sharp and hoarse, reverberating around the room—my prison.

That did it.

There was a strange scraping noise and I turned just in time to see the golden mirror sliding down the wall, its ornate frame leaving a trail of gouges in the plaster as it went. Then, all at once, everything fell. The mirror fell forward, landing on it's back with a sharp crash as the glass smashed, sending a small explosion of shards into the air. The bottle rolled away from the destruction, unharmed.

I stared at the sparkling mess, the little bits of glass catching on fire in the dying sunlight. This was a pretty good metaphor for our relationship... Luc gets to walk away unscathed while I'm left here to pick up the pieces. A hysterical laugh broke free of me, but the laugh made my head spin. I had to lean against my legs again in an attempt to stop the room from spiralling around me. Oh well, I thought. At least I broke something...

The dizziness overcame me. I slumped over, sprawling out across the hardwood once again. As I slid into darkness, part of me hoped that when I awoke, I'd find that all of this had just been one more of my stupid nightmares.

A distant buzzing sound pulled me back. I struggled to open my eyes. How long had I been under? I wondered. A few seconds? A few hours? The sun was completely gone now. The room was dark, lit only by the distant cast of a streetlight. My head swam as I tried to pull myself up from the floor. I was still drunk. Very drunk.

Before I had a chance to figure out where the buzzing was coming from, it cut out. I groaned and fell back, hoping I could just fall asleep again.

But the buzzing came again, low and persistent, drilling into my ears. I stirred. What was that? It sounded close... Sort of... I listened hard, trying to identify its location. It seemed to be coming through the ceiling. It had an insistent rhythm that sounded vaguely familiar.

Then I realized—my phone. I had left it somewhere upstairs when I had gone to get the champagne.

Buzz... buzz... buzz...

I knew I should go and get it, but the idea of climbing the stairs—the idea of moving at all—to find it was the last thing I wanted to do right now. I just wanted to sink back into oblivion and leave all my problems for tomorrow.

The buzzing persisted. I wondered how it was even possible to hear it all the way down here—were the floors really that thin? Maybe it was just the absolute silence of the shop. Every sound felt amplified in the night. Either way, it was infuriating. Curled on the floor, I put my fingers in my ears to try and block it out, but it was like an annoying little mosquito. Who was even calling me in the middle of the night?

A few blurred memories trickled back. Halfway through the champagne, I had made several attempts at calling Polly for help. At the time she hadn't answered and I half-remembered leaving a few frantic messages. Thinking back, I wasn't sure how coherent those would be...

Finally, the buzzing stopped. I sighed with relief and closed my eyes again. Now I didn't have to deal with it. I could just—

But it started up again, echoing through the thin floor overhead. Whoever was calling was determined to get through... If it really was Polly who was calling, I knew she wasn't going to give up until I answered.

"Fine," I grumbled, rolling onto my stomach. I pushed myself up to my knees and then tried to stand... and then immediately fell over. Shit. This wasn't going to be easy...

I got to my knees again and struggled to stand. The whole room was spinning around me and my stomach felt like it was doing the same. I grabbed hold of the edge of the desk to steady myself and then turned towards the back of the room...

I went cold, frozen in place. If I hadn't been clutching the desk for dear life, I would've certainly fallen over again.

There was someone there, standing in the open door that led to the back half of the shop. A girl. She was turned away, her long neck stretched as she stared up the stairs. Her tall, graceful figure was draped in a thin, flowing white dress that contrasted against her dark, ashy skin. I couldn't see her face, but I already knew who it was.

It was the girl from Ethan's drawing—Luc's ex.

Then, as if I had called her name, she turned to look at me from over her shoulder. Her face was relaxed, as placid as it had been in the drawing.

"Hello, Rachel," she said, her voice low and breathy.

I couldn't find the words to respond. My vision was beginning to double. I leaned hard against the desk. I felt like I really might fall over again, desk or not.

She didn't seem to notice my struggle. She turned herself towards me and took a step forward. My eyes widened and my ears began to throb with the sound of my wildly beating heart. I didn't understand...

How could she be so calm?!

The front of her gauzy gown was in tatters, soaked through with dark red. That hadn't been captured in Ethan's drawing.

She took another step closer. "It's nice to finally be able to speak with you," she breathed. Her stained dress fluttered in some breeze I couldn't feel. "Do you know who I am?"

The room wouldn't stop spinning. Unable to keep upright, I sank to my knees, still gripping the desk's edge. "Kind of," I slurred, resting my cheek against the edge, too. "You're an ex-girlfriend of Luc's right?"

Her eyes darkened for a moment. "Unfortunately."

"Is that why you're after me?" I mumbled, closing my eyes to try and stop the spinning. "Because I'm with Luc? Well, I'm not with him anymore, so you—"

She didn't reply. I forced my eyes open again to check if she was still there.

She was laughing, her long fingers pressed delicately against her lips.

"Heavens, no," she chuckled, before clearing her throat and collecting herself. "I'm here to warn you about him."

My eyes widened. "About him?"

She stepped closer. Her skin seemed to thin, sinking into her high-angled cheekbones and around her eye sockets. My arm began to tingle as she neared but she stopped before it really began to hurt. "There are things in his past—things you have no idea about, or how dangerous they are, but—"

A clinking of glass interrupted her. She stopped talking and her whole body went rigid. Her eyes darted around the room...

Mine did too, first looking to the windows and door, then finally to the mirror, which was still laying on the floor, what was left of its reflective surface scattered around it. There were a few loose shards in the frame and... I could swear they were moving... Or was just a trick of my shaky vision?

But she seemed to see it too. Her calm had dissolved... Now her face was tense, her brow tight and furrowed.

"Do... Do you see that?" I mumbled, nearly incoherent.

She nodded once and took a step back. "We must get you out of here."

"But I... wait, we?" I slurred, confused. "Who... Who's we?"

"There's no time," she said. "Can you stand?"

The glass continued to rattle in the frame as I attempted to pull myself up again. My legs wobbled dangerously but I managed to keep myself on my feet.

Just as I found my balance, there was a sharp crack. We both turned back to the mirror. I gasped, frozen against the desk.

Fingers emerged, pushing through the cluttered shards of glass. They reached over the edge of the golden frame, gripping it for a moment before moving forward. The rest of the hand following behind—pale white, blue veins stretching over its skin—then it's arm... but then it stopped. The fingers clawed frantically at the floor like something was trying to pull itself out of the empty frame. Whatever it was couldn't seem to get any further than the shoulder.

"You have to go!" she cried.

And then she lunged at me.

I fell back, trying to scramble out of her reach, but she caught the front of my shirt and heaved me to my feet.

The room tilted and I stumbled, threatening to fall again. "I can't," I mumbled. I couldn't seem to find the words to explain Luc's barrier—it was all mush in my mouth. I could barely see the girl through my blurring vision.

"You have to!" she said, her voice taking on a strange rattle. She took hold of arm and—

As soon as she touched me, a searing pain shot through my body. I cried out—the pain was clarifying, enough to cut through my intoxication, even if just a little. For a second, my eyes focused and I could see her clearly... Though I quickly wished I couldn't.

Like the others, she had begun to decompose... Her skin went grey and flaked away, her eyes turned to dust in their sockets. Her jaw—barely held together by what was left of her skin, dropped open.

"Run!"

I was about to tell her that I couldn't when she swung me around and shoved me forward. I staggered for only a few steps before my weak legs gave out beneath me and I collapsed on the floor. The rough movement was too much for my stomach. I rolled over and retched, my last meal of champagne splattering over the floor.

Puking made me feel a bit better and cleared my head a little. I struggled to right myself again and saw stairs stretching out in front of me. She had pushed me into the back room.

I turned back just in time to watch as the last remnants of her dissolved into nothingness before my eyes.

The shop fell quiet once more... aside from the continuous buzzing of my phone upstairs.

I just sat there, my head spinning. Had all that really just happened? Or was that another dream? Fuck, I hope I'm just dreaming... Or hallucinating. I had heard that drunk people could hallucinate if they drank enough. Or maybe that was only alcoholics going through withdrawal...

My phone continued its insistent buzzing. Did you need to answer the phone when you were dreaming? I wondered. Clutching at the doorway, I pulled myself to my feet.

As I was about to take the first step, a new sound joined in with the rhythmic buzzing. It came from within the shop... A scraping noise, coming in short bursts. Together the two sounds made a strange, unsettling beat.

Holding tight onto the wall, I peered around the corner into the main room.

The disembodied arm came into view. It was dragging itself, digging its fingers into the floor, pulling the mirror along with it. I noticed the pale fingers were stained with dark blood, the nails cracked and bleeding under its effort.

The limb—the mirror?—came to a stop in the middle of the room. Despite the damage, there were still a few large pieces of glass that clung to the frame, though they were riddled with cracks, splintering outwards like a spider's web. The strange arm had emerged through a dark gap in the glass, its shoulder disappearing into nothingness.

My heart began hammering in my chest. This... This has to be a dream.

The arm twitched but stayed where it was as if it were waiting. Then another set of fingers inched over the mirror's edge, reaching out from inside. A different arm. This one was dark, ashy and grey...

The lingered together for a moment before they turned and began to drag themselves forward again... towards me.

"Rachel!"

Startled, I turned towards the new voice. There was another girl there, standing in the corner beneath the stairs. Her pale white face was covered in blue bruises, her right eye swollen shut. She was new—she hadn't appeared in my visions or in Ethan's drawings.

How many girls were there?

"You must go!" she said, shoving her arms out, pushing me towards the stairs. As soon as she touched me, another flare of pain consumed my arm, only this one didn't have a clarifying effect. I doubled over in pain, collapsing over the steps, my vision going spotty as I clutched my burning arm to my chest.

"Please get up," the girl begged from above me as I regained my senses. She danced around the bottom of the stairs, careful not to come closer. "Please, please, please!"

By now the mirror had reached the door to the back. The arms scrambled around, grabbing at the floor before they found the edges of the doorway. Then—with a grip tight enough that it crushed the wood of the frame—it pulled itself up, turning its shattered face towards me.

I expected to see a hundred little images of myself in the splintered mirror, reflecting my horror back at me. But I didn't see myself in the cracked glass. Instead, each fractured facet held an eye. So many eyes... Brown eyes, blue eyes, grey eyes, eyes that glowed green—green as grass. All glaring at me, burning with hatred. With want.

Frozen in place, I stared back for a moment before an idea hit my booze-addled brain.

Salt.

Of course! I needed salt. Salt had worked on The Beast, surely it'd work on... whatever the fuck this was. I turned and threw myself up the stairs, clinging to the railing to keep from falling again.

But it was quick. It caught my leg and dragged me down. I fell hard against the stairs, my cheek hitting the railing with a crack as I went. Dazed and drunk, I could little more than turn to watch it descend on me.

The mirror thing... It had sprouted more arms. Light arms. Dark arms. Thick arms. Thin arms. All of them reaching, scrambling up the stairs like some horrible spider. I was easy prey, trapped in its web, ready to be devoured.

They had hold of me now, the many arms dragging me closer, towards the dark, empty pit at the centre of the mirror, ready to swallow me whole. It was my turn to dig my fingers into the floor, trying to pull myself away.

Suddenly I was surrounded. White fluttering was on all sides... So many women. One by one they took hold of me, dragging me as far as they could up the stairs before their proximity to me dissolved them too.

One of the girls grabbed hold of the frame and tried to pull it off of me. But as soon as she laid hands on its gilded frame, she went up in a burst of flame, burning away instantly like she was made of tissue paper. As soon as she disappeared, a new arm emerged, pushing more glass shards out of the way to make room.

"What do you want?" I cried, trying to pull myself away. "If you want Luc, he's not here! He's gone! He left!"

"We don't want him," a chorus of voices screamed from inside the mirror. "We want you."

Something wrapped around my chest, its grip tight and constricting. I screamed though I knew it was hopeless. It had me now.

As I was about to give up, I was yanked sharply back, away from the mirror. Whoever had hold of me was trying to free me... and they weren't disappearing like the others.

My heart stuttered as I turned to look at the face of my saviour, but it was all dark, tangled wet hair. I looked down and found two blue, bloated arms wound tight around me. They were still wet... I could feel their dampness soaking through my shirt. Despite their withered appearance, they were strong. They held me fast against the frantic, hungry pull of the mirror's army.

Though I couldn't see her face, I knew in my heart who it was. The waterlogged girl that had plagued my dreams...Was she here to save me?

As if she had heard my thoughts, a thick, gurgling voice whispered in my ear. "I can help you... if you let me."

But... if Luc put up a barrier, how did anything get in?

Who are the girls? And what's inside the mirror?

🔮

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