Dark Mirrors

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**Please note pronoun usage changes to give the reader the perspective of a narrowed understanding.

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If I had chosen my words, maybe there would have been a better outcome...

With a wipe of the back of his hand across his damp forehead, Calum let his brown eyes gaze across his surroundings; gauging the impeding darkness of night's gracious approach through the dense forest of trees. Deciding it was time to head back inside, he turned toward his brunet child who had taken to chopping firewood.

"It's getting late," he rest his shovel against the back of their house, the back door waiting for them to re-enter the home, "how many blocks did you get done?"

"Fifty, I reckon." His teen paused, wiping their own hand across their forehead—like father like child, Calum supposed.

Almost splitting image of their father despite their slightly stringy appearance, Jax was sixteen years young and years beyond their age in wisdom; gained through madness of a broken childhood now at peace.

"Good enough, c'mon." Calum beckoned his child inside, holding the door open for them as they thudded the family axe into chopping block.

"You cookin' dinner tonight?" Jax queried while his father shut and locked the back door, himself heading through the cottage home of two stories to reach the bathroom for a shower.

"Sausages and bread." Calum snorted, stuffing his house keys into his denim jean pocket, uninterested in cooking a huge meal.

Jax laughed and nodded, "sounds good", disappearing into the house and leaving his father to the thirty five year old's own devices

Calum took immediately to the attic of the house, pulling open the ceiling hatch on the top floor and climbing his way up into the LED light illuminated space. Closing it behind himself, he rose to his feet as his hands dusted his jeans off and his eyes cast themselves across the space.
Filled with fake plants and years of gathered knowledge and collections, it was his space—something he hadn't always been allowed.

Though for good reason.
The universe has ways of striking with karma when one would least expect.

His calm aura snapped, shattering like a glass mirror of bad luck as he glanced toward his once pristine black and gold candle; having been lit and carved days ago, to find its wax busted and dripping down his magick altar was a concerning sight to behold.
He rushed toward it, in shock at its horrid state, and as he knelt down before it—seeking any error that could have caused its destruction—a chilling voice echoed through his mind like a whisper among endless darkness; a scream no amount of meditation could tear apart.

It was a calm voice, casual yet darkened by ancient anguish, and as soon as it spoke—it's shadowed figure standing by the exit hatch—Calum knew who it was.

"That would've hurt." Ashton's tone was almost humorous, lingering in the corner of Calum's eye and dressed in the same outfit he had worn the day his heart broke.

With a sharp breath, Calum's heart almost stopped beating as the brunet forced himself to turn and look toward his past; standing to his feet with wary motion.

Ashton's soft hazel eyes were bone-chilling to see, sunkissed skin caressed by the touch of deep pink and black fabrics of denim shorts and a tank top—clothes he was told never to wear, yet the ones he felt comfortable in.

"Can you imagine how painful that backfire would've been if you hadn't tied the spell to your candle?" Ashton humoured, but his intentions were beyond kind; he was a being filled with poisonous rage who could blend perfectly into the world he had been wrongfully banished from.

"Wh-... What are you doing here?" Calum could barely feel the veil of reality anymore, staring eye-to-eye with the face of inequality and danger.

"Just doing my job." Ashton raised his arms in a nonchalant shrug, slim pink bracelets jingling as he did so. Chestnut hair, tied back into a bun, bounced ever so slightly as he gave a small tilt of his head and offered Calum a darkened smile, "though sometimes, I admit, I do take a little joy from it for myself."

"Did you do this-?" Calum gestured to his candle and Ashton crossed his thin arms without a proper response; raising an eyebrow as Calum got the message. "Why? It wasn't for you."

"You don't get to kill people and then spend your whole life avoiding any consequences."

"I killed her to protect my son." Calum defended, eyebrows creasing and voice temporarily bold.

With a rattle of bracelets, Ashton pretended to check his nails. "She would've been easily dealt with by the cops."

"How was I supposed to know that?! You can't expect me to have known, you'd be the stupidest man I've ever met-!"

Ashton snapped, glaring at the brunet who instantly shrunk back in terror; wide eyed.
"I'm a woman, or did you forget why I haunt your nightmares?"

"Look, okay." Calum quickly eased back. "What do you want?"

"Oh don't worry." Ashton taunted, snapping her fingers. "I've already come to give your consequence."

A horrific scream tore through the house, petrified terror bouncing with a ricochet through the walls, and within barely a second Calum felt his home go dead silent.

"...no." Calum's heart dropped, his body frozen on the spot and Ashton grinned wickedly.

"Yes." Ashton cruelly mused, entertained. "Maybe you should've thought about all this before you beat me to death."

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