Captive_Echoes

In the depths of a cursed reflection, truth and deception blur into one.

Vivian Sinclair never believed in the supernatural—until the day she moved into Blackthorn Manor, an old estate shrouded in unsettling whispers and forgotten secrets. A long-forgotten mirror hidden within the greenhouse awakens something inside her, something that shouldn’t exist beyond the glass. A shadow of herself stares back, watching, waiting.

At first, the visions are subtle—flickers of movement when no one else is there, a whisper of her name in the dead of night. But as the days pass, the haunting presence becomes undeniable. Her reflection begins to move on its own, revealing memories she never lived, secrets she never uncovered, and a version of herself she doesn’t recognize.

Sebastian Graves, a scholar obsessed with the manor’s dark past, warns her that some mirrors do more than reflect—they remember. And the one in Blackthorn Manor doesn’t just hold history; it holds something alive. Something that wants out.

As the lines between reality and illusion fracture, Vivian realizes she isn't just being haunted—she is being rewritten. The more she resists, the stronger the presence grows, feeding off her fears, her doubts… and her lies.

Because the darkest truths aren’t the ones buried in the past. They’re the ones we tell ourselves.

And in the end, the mirror never lies.

But Vivian might.

Obsidian Lies

The ruins of the cathedral stood in eerie silence, the remnants of battle leaving behind an unsettling stillness. The once-sacred walls, now fractured and crumbling, bore the scars of what had transpired. The air, heavy with the fading echoes of magic, pressed against Vivian's skin like a whisper of something unfinished.

She stood at the threshold, gazing at the place where her reflection—her darkness—had been vanquished. The weight of it all settled in her bones. The curse was broken, the nightmare ended, yet an emptiness lingered, hollow and undefined.

Sebastian, his sword still in hand, stepped beside her. His gaze swept over the destruction, a mixture of exhaustion and relief etched into his features. "Is it really over?"

Lucian, leaning against a broken pillar, exhaled slowly. "It is."

Elaria remained silent, staring at the fractured ground beneath them. The battle had cost them more than they could have imagined. Victory had come at a price, and though the immediate danger had passed, the scars it left behind were undeniable.

Vivian felt the pulse of something deep within her—absence. The entity that had once been tethered to her, that had fed on her fears, was gone. But in its place was a strange stillness, an unfamiliar quiet inside her mind. She had been bound to the darkness for so long that its absence felt like losing a part of herself.

She clenched her fists, grounding herself. "We should leave."

The others nodded, and together, they stepped out of the cathedral, into the night that stretched endless before them.

The city awaited them. Word had already spread, whispers moving like fire through the streets—of the battle, the collapse of the cathedral, the final stand against the darkness. People emerged from hiding, eyes wide with hope, wariness, disbelief.

Vivian and the others walked through the broken streets, their presence met with hushed voices and uncertain gazes. They had won. But now, they had to rebuild.

Days passed in a blur of decisions and exhaustion. The once-feared halls of power were empty now, waiting for new leadership. Vivian found herself at the center of it, not because she sought it, but because the people turned to her. They asked her what came next, what they were supposed to do.

Lucian stood by her side, offering quiet counsel, his own burdens weighing him down. Sebastian, ever the protector, watched over her as if he could shield her from the responsibility pressing in. Elaria, weary of the fight, packed her things one night and left without a word.

Vivian understood. Some wounds needed time to heal, and some people weren't meant to stay.

Weeks turned to months. The city began to heal. Slowly, tentatively, life returned to the streets. But even as the world moved forward, Vivian found herself trapped in a limbo between what had been and what was yet to come.

She often returned to the ruins of the cathedral, standing where it had all ended, searching for something she couldn't name. Answers, maybe. Or closure.

One evening, Sebastian found her there. He stood beside her for a long while before speaking. "Do you regret it?"

Vivian considered the question. She thought of the battles fought, the sacrifices made, the truths she had uncovered. She thought of the power she had given up, the darkness she had refused.

"No," she said finally. "I don't."

Sebastian nodded, his gaze lingering on the distant horizon. "Then it's time to move forward."

She turned to look at him. The past had been written, unchangeable. But the future—the future was unwritten.

Vivian exhaled, feeling, for the first time in a long while, the weight begin to lift.

And as the last light of the sun faded behind the horizon, she stepped forward, leaving the past behind.

Farewell?