Whispers in the Mirror

The air was thick with the scent of old wood and dust, a testament to the mansion's forgotten grandeur. The wind howled through the broken windows, as if wailing a lonesome tune, but it was the whispers that sent a shiver down the spine of the newlywed couple, Alice and Edward. They had moved into the old mansion after purchasing it at an estate sale, unaware of the dark history that lay beneath its creaky floorboards.

Alice, a painter by trade, had always been drawn to the old mirror in the grand hall. It was ornate, its frame carved from dark wood with intricate patterns that seemed to move in the dim light. "It's like it's alive," she whispered to Edward one night, her voice tinged with fear.

Edward chuckled, shaking his head. "Nonsense. Just a trick of the light, Alice. The mirror's just an old piece of furniture."

But the mirror was no ordinary piece of furniture. As Alice gazed into its depths, she saw not her own reflection, but the face of a woman, her hair flowing like liquid silver, her eyes pools of dark, mysterious depths. The woman smiled, and Alice felt a chill run down her spine. "Do you see her?" she asked Edward, her voice barely above a whisper.

Edward, intrigued, leaned in closer. "I see nothing but your reflection, Alice. Are you feeling well?"

Alice shook her head, a frown creasing her brow. "It's the mirror. It's whispering to me. 'The serpent's lament, the beauty's curse.'"

Edward, trying to reassure her, chuckled. "You're imagining things. Come, let's turn on the lights and look at it again."

But when the lights flickered on, the mirror was as still as ever, its surface a mirror of the room around it. The whispers, however, seemed to grow louder, a cacophony of voices speaking in hushed tones that only Alice could hear.

Days turned into weeks, and the whispers grew more insistent. Alice would find herself staring into the mirror, her eyes wide with fear, while Edward would shake his head, dismissing her fears as mere superstition. But the whispers grew louder, more insistent, and Alice felt the weight of an ancient curse pressing down on her.

One evening, as the moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver glow over the mansion, Alice heard the whispers clearer than ever before. "The serpent's lament, the beauty's curse," they whispered, their voices growing louder with each passing moment. She turned to Edward, her face pale with fear. "Listen," she said, her voice trembling.

Edward, growing weary of her concerns, stood up. "Alice, I told you before, it's just your imagination. Now, let's go to bed."

But as he reached for her, Alice saw the woman in the mirror again, her face twisted in rage. "No!" Alice shouted, pulling away from Edward. "Stay away from me! Stay away!"

Edward, confused, stepped back, his eyes wide with shock. "Alice, what's wrong with you?"

But it was too late. The whispers crescendoed into a deafening roar, and Alice felt herself being pulled into the mirror. She struggled, her arms flailing, but the pull was too strong, and she was drawn into the depths of the mirror, where the woman's eyes met hers with a cold, calculating gaze.

Edward, realizing what was happening, rushed to the mirror, his face contorted with fear and sorrow. "Alice! No! Don't go in there!"

But it was too late. Alice had vanished, and in her place stood the woman from the mirror, her eyes now filled with the same sorrow that Alice had seen in her own.

Edward, in a panic, looked around for help, but the mansion was empty, save for the ghostly figure of his wife. He rushed to the grand hall, calling out her name, but there was no answer. The whispers were gone, replaced by the sound of a serpent hissing, its voice a low, menacing growl.

Edward looked down and saw the serpent, its scales glistening in the moonlight, coiling around his ankle. He tried to scream, but no sound came out. The serpent's eyes met his, and Edward saw the reflection of his own face, twisted with fear and pain.

The serpent hissed again, and Edward felt its fangs sink into his neck. The pain was excruciating, and as the venom spread through his veins, Edward realized the truth. The serpent was the embodiment of the woman in the mirror, the serpent's lament, the beauty's curse.

Alice had been cursed by the serpent to be trapped in the mirror, her beauty the price she paid for the serpent's eternal life. And now, Edward was next in line to be consumed by the serpent's venom, to be trapped in the mirror, forever.

The serpent hissed, and Edward felt his life leaving him. As his eyes rolled back into his head, he whispered, "Alice... I'm so sorry..."

And then he was gone, his body dropping to the floor, his soul joining Alice in the mirror, their reflections forever intertwined with the serpent's lament.