Following

In the world of Venari

Visit Venari

Completed 958 Words

Reflection

828 0 0

Glintsprock's head pounded when he woke up. It was like a marching band was playing in it. Or, worse, his own band. He groaned as he staggered to his feet.

As he rubbed the back of his head, the events leading to accident came back to him. A shudder ran up and down his spine as he looked at the ornate mirror.

"Why did you have to go and do that?" he said, even though he could no longer see the shadow. "We were havin' a lovely time and then you ruin it by getting all creepy. Bastard."

The mirror didn't reply, and the shadow didn't return. Glintsprock looked around the room in case it had escaped. While there were plenty of shadows around, there was nothing that made him want to wet himself.

But he did feel like he was being watched.

He looked into the mirror, but all he could see was himself being reflected back, and the image of the mirror behind him. In a weird way, it looked like loads of Glintsprocks had gathered together, getting smaller and smaller until he couldn't see them anymore.

It was kinda cool.

Feeling a little better, he winked at his reflection. As expected, his many reflections did the same thing.

Then he waved, and his reflections did the same.

Well, most of them did.

One of them gave him the middle finger. Rude.

"Hold on... that's not meant to happen." Glintsprock stepped closer to get a better look, and his reflections stepped closer to him. But they weren't moving in the same way he was.

"Nope, definitely not meant to happen."

He stepped away, but the reflections did not retreat. Instead, they moved closer.

And closer.

And closer.

Until one of them reached out and grabbed at him with a hand that looked remarkably like his own.

"Get off o' me!" he said, no longer as feeling as brave as a chicken. He wasn't sure what animal he felt like now. Probably something small and insignificant. Something with no teeth… or backbone. Maybe something rotting at the bottom of an old bucket.

The fingers grabbed hold of his pirate trousers and began to drag him closer to the mirror. Laughter rang out from his reflections, each one seeming to enjoy tormenting the original immensely.

'Little shits,' he thought, as he struggled. Using his feet, he stopped himself from being pulled into the mirror, but he knew he wouldn't be able to prevent it for long. His reflection was just too strong, and now more hands were reaching out to help.

"If you like the trousers that much, you can 'ave 'em," he said as he wriggled out of the trousers. Almost instantly, the garment disappeared into the mirror.

Glintsprock stood there in his birthday suit, but noticed all his reflections were still had their modesty covered. "Hey, that's not fair."

The reflections laughed. It was a horrible sound. There was no way his laugh was as grim as that. Was there? Surely not.

Not content with his trousers, the reflections returned their attentions to him.

Arms reached out of the mirror; its surface rippled like water around them.

A foot took a tentative step out.

A nose poked through.

"Nope! No! Absolutely not!" Ignoring the fear building a firepit in his belly, Glintsprock ran towards the mirror and lifted it.

The hands pulled at his ears and nose, and one of them tried to poke his eyes. "Leave my eyes alone! You ain't no chicken!" he said as he lifted the mirror as high as he could (which wasn't very high, goblins really aren't very tall) and lobbed it out of the window. The window wasn't open at the time, so glass rained down on the street below, accompanying the mirror (complete with limbs sticking out of it). There was a satisfying crash as it hit the ground, and a musical tinkle as glass fragments joined it.

Glintsprock hopped up onto the windowsill and peered out. No-one had come to see what the commotion was; crashes and bangs were a usual occurrence in this part of town. Unlike in the market, most just thought it was best to mind their own business. Besides, it was unlikely to be something dangerous. Not in broad daylight.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Glintsprock returned to the pile of clothes in his room. He was down to one mirror, but that was fine; he really didn't mind twirling in front of it.

He didn't notice a shadowy figure in the reflection next to him as he dressed. It disappeared back inside him before he could catch sight of it.

To her terror, Ribbit saw everything.

 

*****

 

 

The ruined mirror lay in pieces on the street below. Its ornate carvings forever lost. Its value dropped to nothing. It was for that reason that no-one had bothered to investigate it. The mirror remained where it fell.

Well, most of it did. Until nightfall.

As the moon rose, one of the small glass fragments from the mirror started to vibrate. Rocking back and forth, the fragment appeared to be trying to flip itself over. Muttering could be heard with every failed attempt.

After several failures and a lot of swearing, the shard flipped over, and a tiny figure emerged. No bigger than the average human man's thumb, the miniature goblin was able to move around the street without drawing any attention. Although small, it was the perfect replica of Glintsprock (apart from being his mirror image). And, just like any goblin, it had an appetite for destruction... and brains.

With hunger growling in its belly, it disappeared into Red Fern.

 

*****

Keep up-to-date with Glintsprock’s Quest by checking out this page:

https://louyardley.com/glintsprocks-quest/

Please Login in order to comment!