Chapter 3: The Church of Mirrors

 “Undeniable Truth: As Far As the Story Began, Dreams Exist”

a blog series for A Storybook of Nightmare

“Some places don’t echo your voice — they echo your soul.”

Chapter 3: 

THE CHURCH OF MIRRORS

The rain started before Elora opened her eyes. It wasn't falling on her - not yet - but she could hear it.

Dripping steadily onto stone. Each drop felt like a countdown. 

She stood inside a cathedral without windows. No stained glass. No altar. 

Just mirrors - tall, old, and cracked - leaning against every wall and pillar. Some tilted toward her. Others away, like they were trying to avoid her gaze.

Candles flickered from nowhere, their flames casting light but no warmth.

She walked forward. 

The echoes of her bare feet sounded wrong - too loud, too late, like they followed instead of preceded her step.

Then she saw it.

The first mirror.

And herself - only not quite.

Her reflection wore a dress she didn't own.

Her hair was longer. Her eyes, too wide.

The reflection smiled, but her mount didn't move.

Then it whispered:

“You lied.”

She stepped away, breath hitching.

The next mirror - she looked younger.

Nine years old. Holding a stuffed animal she lost in a fire. This one wept.

Blood leaked from its eyes and soaked the floor within t he glass. Another mirror. She was laughing.

Surrounded by people she didn't know. One of them had no face. She turned in a panic - every mirror now watching her.

Breathing.

Whispering.

"Elora..." they chorused in unison.

Her name twisted though the chamber like a spell unraveling.

She ran.

But the church curved - spiraling deeper inward like the inside of a conch shell. The further she ran, the darker the mirrors became.

Now they didn't show her at all. They showed... someone else.

A version of her with black eyes and stitched mouth. One mirror cracked as she passed, and something slithered out. She screamed - but no sound left her lips.

At the final chamber, a single full-length mirror stood upright.

In it: her current self. 

Breathing. Frightened.

But she wasn't alone.

Behind her, the stitched mouth version appeared.

Closer.

Closer. 

Then, She turned around. No one was there. But the mirror had changed. Now it reflected nothing at all.

Just a phrase, written in reverse:

“The truth won’t hide if you keep chasing it.”

The bells rang. A sound so low it shook her bones. And Elora woke up. Hands pressed against her bedroom mirror. Mouth open. Eyes wide.

Behind her- Her own reflection smiled...

Just a second too late.