The woman who sat down on an old couch chair, scrutinized the object before her. She was holding a large, delicate mirror that made her hold it up with two hands.

People surrounded her, looking into their reflections with awe. You were proud of your find, but your mother didn't seem to feel the same way. She placed the mirror down, huffing.

"I have plenty of mirrors, (y/n,)  I am not in need of one."

You ogled in surprise. Did she just reject your gift you paid so much for! You knew she could be an annoying woman but to this extent?!

The woman handed you the mirror with a look of disappointment. You grabbed it, unfiltered shock was still etched on your face. But it morphed into heavy irritation.

"Fine then! I didn't want to give you this mirror, anyways. I'd rather keep it for myself, it's so beautiful!" You hissed at her, turning to leave. You stomped out of the door and into the fresh evening air.

Your eyes were stinging but you refused to give in to the disappointment that etched into your chest. The look on your mothers face ingrained into your mind. It was just a stupid outburst. It won't happen again; you tell yourself. She often didn't accept gifts if she didn't like it, but you were so sure that this was the one.

You were heading home, which was a small little abode with 2 rooms including a bathroom. You trudged in with a defeated look. You didn't even get any cake, either.

You entered through the door. You set the mirror down next to the kitchen counter. You close the blinds to your window and off you go towards the door to your bedroom.

You drawled the thick curtains of your room closed and flopped on your bed. You stared at the ceiling, watching as the orange light of the sunset dragged across the walls slowly. You don't know when it happened, but you ended up closing your eyes to sleep.

______________

You tossed and turned in your sleep. Your face was scrunched up with nervous wrinkles. A silent sound scraped through your ears, invisible fingers dragged against the skin of your arms and shoulders.

It was cold and loud. Your sleep was deep but almost conscious. The mirror was glinting maliciously in the shine of the streetlight filtering through the curtains. You would even see shadows and shapes dance in the reflective glass if you squint hard enough.

The room gave you chills as the look on your face morphed into one of irritation. Your fingers clenched tightly into the fabric of the bed sheets, the cotton fabric brushing against skin.

Voices. There had to be hundreds- no, millions of them speaking at once. Incomprehensible mumbling and loud chattering of nonsense, it was irritable and tedious. Can't you just get a good night's rest?!

"SHUT UP!" You snapped up like a serpent ready to strike its opponent. A look of unfiltered fury written all over your visage. The voices ceased, and you were otherwise silent at the sounds of a tranquil atmosphere surrounding you.

You looked out of the window with a mixed look of exhaustion and embarrassment for your outburst. Those voices were not even there, you had a nightmare.

The milky light of the moon flowed through the window, it was open because it gets considerably warm at night where you live. You, with no air conditioning, doesn't help at all.

You should really buy a fan.

You shook your head, it was really late. You glanced at the red beam that was your alarm clock and saw that it was a quarter past midnight. You groaned loudly before sitting up on your bed until the cool ground touched your feet.

You need some air, it was too suffocating in here. The air was stagnant in your throat and you felt like gagging at the bitter taste on your tongue. You forgot to brush your teeth.

You glanced back at your bed with reluctance, there was no way you could go back to bed. You were much too awake for that. Your pupils flicked up to the window. Might as well take a walk to drain your energy.

Your town was quaint and not known to have any sort of terrors going bump in the night. So you are not too worried about encountering anything but you stashed your pepper spray just in case you did encounter something.

You strided into the small room that was your dining room, living room, and kitchen hybrid and you glanced at the mirror. Its cardboard cover fell off of it during the night somehow, it glinted ominously in the imposing light.

You passed it, the shadow of your reflection chased through it, and then you were out the creaky door into the cool night air. The sound of cicadas and crickets was soft and it sang gently through your ears.

You should've taken a jacket, you thought, rubbing your arms to cease the nipping cold. But you were too lazy to go back into the house, you were already in the street.

You took a long sip of the night air and trudged through the streets with a small frown and furrowed eyebrows. The moon's embrace shines in your hair, skin, and lashes. Your thoughts follow you about mirrors, the disappointed face of your mother, and the strange, glinting, violet eyes of the shopkeep.

After a bit of wandering the streets. Head empty and in the clouds. You snapped out of your thoughtless trance when a cat jumped off a trash can at your approach.

You shook your head at that with a look of puzzlement. You were ready to turn around and head home. It's getting late and you are starting to get tired.

But before you took another step you heard strange yet loud clicking sounds a couple yards away from you. You glanced back down the street. The clicking sound abruptly stopped and you heard a loud yelp of a male.

"AH-!"

It suddenly cut off like something forcibly stopped it. Your eyes widened like saucers. The clicking sound resumes but goes further away from you. That sounded like some strange kidnapping!

You didn't know you even had it in you, but you bolted down the street towards the sound and ran like hell was loose. Your breathing got heavier and you were  sweating waterfalls but you are sure as hell that was a kidnapping you witnessed.

"HEY!" You yelled out at the large silhouette appearing before you. You thought initially it was a weird sounding vehicle. But you are facing the back of a carriage?!

You blinked your eyes in disbelief but regained your senses when you saw there was a latch to the back doors to it. The carriage itself was dark black, any other possible detail to it is hard to distinguish in the darkness of the night.

There were dark windows to the sides and to the back from what you see. There is nothing visible in the interior. You leapt onto the back, there was a foothold that kept you on the carriage.

You grabbed tightly onto the latch, fully expecting it to be locked but to your utter surprise the doors swung open with ease. You winced are the loud sound of squeaking that came from it. Huh, it was not locked...

You waited for the carriage to stop at the abrupt sound you made but it kept on going, you could hear the sounds of horses snorting and your pounding heart, beating in your ears.

You gazed through the large wooden doors only to see a large coffin encased with the plush interior of the carriage. You thought someone was going be tied up and wide-eyed, staring at you with fear next to some shady kidnapper but you saw nothing of the sort.

Just a... coffin? You swear you heard someone get kidnapped! You were starting to sweat and your chest feels like it's going to burst from the amount of anxiety you felt next.

What if the person is in the coffin?

You glanced around for anything that might help you pry it open. This was a dumb idea by itself. Maybe this wasn't anything related to kidnapping of the sort. Maybe, if you open that coffin, a dead body would be in there and you would freak out.

But what if it was a kidnapping? You thought grabbing onto the coffin and dragging it forward. What if someone really needs your help!

You winced at the feeling of the wood digging into the skin of your fingers, but you were determined to get this coffin out of the freaky carriage.

You pulled and pulled and finally, with a loud slamming sound, the coffin was on the floor. The carriage kept on moving forward with speed, the back doors still open and swinging back and forth.

You let out a loud sigh. The upper half of your body heaving onto the coffin due to the workout you just endured.

The reason why you think there is no dead body in this fancy coffin is because when you were walking you swear there was someone a little ways a way in front of you, waking and minding thier business. You ignored them, knowing that people other then you like to walk at night.

The coffin was strange by itself. It was a polished black with gold accents to the side. A large diamond like structure in the front of it, as well as a strange keyhole too. You tried to pry it open but it was locked and shut tight.

Of course, you didn't think of the consequences of grabbing this coffin out of a kidnapping, creepy carriage. How are you going to carry this home and open it? Do you even have a crowbar?

As you were contemplating your problems and solutions, the click-clack clacking sound of the carriage gone silent. You were sort of paying attention to it, but from what you could tell, at the time, it seemed clueless that you stole from it.

You would've sighed in relief if it wasn't for the fact that the sound of hooves on the road was coming closer and closer to you. You turned around in stupur, only to see the large, terrifying horses of the carriage come galloping straight towards you.

You yelped really loudly and failed to scurry to the side, but the carriage stopped a few feet away from you and the coffin. You stared in terror as a cultist-looking figure jumps off of the carriage and lands on both his feet with a hard tapping sound against the cracked road. A wicked looking black whip gleaned menacingly in the nearby streetlight. 

You could feel him staring at you through his thick hood. Scrutinizing you as if he is trying to figure out what to do with you. He took a step closer and you took a step back. You lifted your arms up instinctively to protect you in case this man decides to attack you. Which you figured he would, judging by how tense he was. This was most likely the coachman, the reins for the horses.

You wanted to say something snarky to him, or something brave and heroic. But your mouth was glued shut tightly. You were staring at him like a deer in headlights.

One moment he was a couple feet away from you and the next he leapt up in front of you, the tips of all five of his fingers grazed your head and you immediately felt a strange effect take over all your senses. You let out a scream but it quieted down as quickly as it escaped your throat. Your thoughts quickly became muddled and you were overcome with an extreme fatigue that you couldn't even move a muscle.

What is this? Harry Potter?

Your hazy mind supplied quietly, you would've chuckled at what silly thoughts you think in these types of situations. But right now, you were not in the right state of mind. Maybe you could laugh at it later... if you're not dead by then.

Your brain tried so hard to instill fear in you but it became shut in. The only thing coming through were vague worst case scenarios your brain managed to punch inside. You will probably be dead, so much for being a hero. You hope that the kidnapped person is safe, but it's dwindled in doubt.

Your eyes felt heavy so you shut them. The last thing gracing your sight is the dark figure of the coachman from the medieval marriage. You felt yourself falling forward but a firm grip caught you.