Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy


December 16th 2017 in Microfiction

*LANGUAGE WARNING: use of raw slang terminology; reader discretion is advised*

“You know that this isn’t going to end well, yes?” the Mirror asked rhetorically, sharing his viewpoint from the wall. She stared at him, her eyes cold. “I am required, through my enchantment, to provide you with the information you seek,” the Mirror continued, “but I cannot condone these actions. I need to tell you that.” She rapped on the glass with her staff and he flinched; if she applied any more pressure, she would crack him. “Duly noted,” she responded, turning away, moving to the altar, where the components of the spell were arranged. “I worry about you, truthfully,” the Mirror added, “about what is happening to you – your obsession with youth and power … your obsession with the girl … and how that might ultimately destroy you.” She did not turn around, fishing a blood red apple out of her cloak. “Forgive me, but your paranoia has consumed you,” the Mirror whispered. “I remember happier, sweeter times. Is none of that in you? Is there no hope of going back to an appreciation of life as it is (and all that you have and have done)?” After a moment, she turned her head slightly so that he could see her lips move in profile over her left shoulder. “Happy endings are for pussies,” the queen hissed and lit the black candles.

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