des•ic•cation (a gothic horror dark fantasy short story)

The mirror that hung in the east wing carried my family’s secrets for generations. The secrets that were held, I knew them myself. I was the one who had stored one of the most well-guarded and beloved secrets in this house when I purchased it over three hundred years ago. Behind the grand, floor-length mirror, I tucked it away in a lavish room befitting its stature. This was the one thing I could do for what I cherished above anything in this earthly realm. The mirror hid a doorway that led to where I carefully carried and adorned the body of the man I loved, lying still as stone. The homecoming ceremony was heartbreakingly gorgeous, for he never looked more beautiful than then. It was an intimate and tender proceeding where I renewed my vows to him. Standing beside his temporary death bed, I swore to him my love, devotion, and dedication before adding a new vow- I would do anything to remove the shackles of his damned slumber. Once doing so, the true homecoming could commence.

I readied myself, glancing over my attire, ensuring it held the required esteemed charm. My jet black hair was slicked back and contrasted against my death-kissed skin. Gazing beyond the crystallized surface, I envisioned Alaric standing tall and picturesque as he prepared himself for a night full of events. He was only a few inches taller than I, with a similar build to mine. We weren’t the most muscular pair of men, yet strength never posed an issue for us. Unlike me, he kept his hair short in true businessman fashion. Though, instead of a suit, he always fancied a vest that had a monocle and an adorned pocket watch clipped to it at all times. My ever-still heart cracked as the familiar ache spread throughout my chest. Every passing day, it had never become easier to live without him. I pressed my hand to the glass and breathed, “I will see you soon, my darkling darling.” Clearing the lump forming in my throat, I replaced my somber expression with a rehearsed and feign gentleman’s smile.

I turned away from the mirror, letting the mirage of Alaric fade away. This is when I heard the shallow whispers of a little girl’s voice whispering, “He misses you a lot too…”

I jolted, facing the mirror again. My eyes spanned the darkened room, trying to locate the source of the voice. No one else was in the room with me, and I sensed no other being. The only explanation was that I was driven mad by my grief. I shook the thought from my head since the cause was more likely my thirst. I had been so focused on finding the way to free Alaric that I had neglected to keep up with my necessary hunts. In this moment, it had been the longest I had ever gone without feeding, and my senses and abilities suffered from my personal negligence.

I was just about to take my leave again when I saw her! It was only a glance, but I saw the brief image of a nine-year-old standing in the reflective barricade. I rushed to the looking glass and lunged my hand at its surface, scattering my eyes all over it. After a few seconds of searching, the only thing I could see on the mirror where smudges left from my hands. I really had gone mad.

I slid down, sitting in front of the mirror, staring past myself. As I sat in silence, she materialized into view behind my reflection. I perked up and snapped my head to look behind me, finding nothingness. I slowly brought my eyes back to the mirror, and she sat there next to my reflected self, her frilly dress blanketing around her legs. A dainty smile tugged at her purple lips. She then hugged my arm as she leaned against me. She could have been mistaken for a porcelain doll if she were not so animated.

“Hello, mister,” her voice echoed, trailing in my mind instead of aloud.

“Hello,” I uttered back, uncertainty tinged on the word. I was uncertain about how she was before my eyes, and how I had never seen her over the years. I asked, “Who are you?”

Her smile dropped. Contemplation stewed on her features as she lifted herself from me. She swayed her head back and forth a few times before responding, “I don’t know…”

I nodded in understanding. I suspected it had been a long time since she needed to remember who she was. Judging by her appearance, she looked as if she had come from the time during which I purchased the house. Perhaps she was a daughter or a niece of the family member I bought it from. I inquired, “Would you like a name?”

Her eyes lit with joy as she let out a squeal of glee. Her tiny legs bounced under the fabric of her dress. Only once she calmed down, she sung, “That sounds delightful!”

This brought a smile to me, the first in a while. I mulled over a few options in my head, weighing which sounded the best. Abigail? Annabelle? Sarah? Claire? I cycled through a few other names, but none of them seemed to fit her. I rose to my feet, flatly declaring, “I will have to think it over…”

Before I could finish my sentence, a shrill scream emanated all around, surrounding me and piercing my ears. I quickly clutched my head and cried out, dropping to my knees. The shriek ended, but the agony deep within my skull lingered. When I lifted my head, looking in the mirror, I saw she had not.

Faint giggles bounced around the room with no distinct source. By habit, my head whipped around expecting her to make another sudden appearance. Instead, what appeared in the mirror was Alaric and not her. He was depicted not in the standing glory I had imagined him earlier. Now, he appeared as the peaceful living undead corpse he was. What I saw next caused my eyes to widen with terror. The little girl stood over him, wooden stake in hand!

“NO!!!” I cried out, immediately dashing for the mirror. As soon as my fingers touched the frame, a shocking, penetrating burn singed my fingertips. I quickly drew my hands back, staring at them dumbfounded. Lifting my gaze, I studied the mirror, seeing that silver had somehow lined the complete framing of the mirror.

I was more than thoroughly confused about how this pesky alloy managed its way there, but I had no time to contemplate the mystery. I brushed the thought away and reached again, fighting through the searing pain as I slid the mirror to the side, revealing a dark stone-lined hallway.

With the severe lack of blood in my system, I desperately called on my supernatural abilities, using the last of my strength to run at blurring speeds. I reached his viewing room within seconds, having this be the first time back since bringing him here.

Pausing, I looked to where he rested in his coffin, and she was once again gone. I walked over the open-faced casket, finding him there, skin gray as anthracite, a side effect from several hundred years of desiccation. I reached a hand forward and brushed his overgrown hair with my charred fingertips. When a drop of blood fell on his cheek, I realized I was crying.

I blinked, lifting my hand away from him to wipe the rest of my crimson tears away. As I did so, I heard more giggles coming from directly behind me. I spun around and there she was, smiling widely. She gave a wave, then an astounding slam boomed from down the hall. I ran past her back to the entryway and saw the mirror was back in place, as if it never left its spot. I pushed on it, but it didn’t budge. I shoved, kicked, and hurled myself at it, but the polished fixture wouldn’t move. It was cemented shut. Hauntingly teasing giggles grew in volume, and the realization settled in that she sealed me in.

 

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Author's Note:

This story was inspired from a prompt from a weekly horror story writing challenge in June 2025. I wanted to write something for it because gothic romance horror is one of my favorite genres to watch in cinema. I hope you enjoyed reading~

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ﾟ。 Skelly <3 
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