Into the Villain's Mirror

Chapter 1 - Shards of Reality

Lucy Lambert had been in her fair share of absurd situations.

But waking up in a different body was definitely on another level.

Lucy stared at her hand. Her mind should have been blank with shock but instead some inane thoughts were chasing each other in a loop, like hyper-active bunnies. It's a pretty hand. Look at those nails. How do you even take care of them? Probably should get rid of that nervous finger-biting habit. And that skin as well, looks quite soft. These hands could model for all kinds of jewelry and watches ... they're money-makers in their own right. My student loans can be taken care of just with these hands.

It was a hand pretty enough to be distracting for sure - with skin like gleaming gold, unmarked by any blemishes or scars, and fingers so long and delicate they looked as though even gripping them too hard would be enough to break them. They were topped with long nails coated in gleaming paint, reflecting the dim light almost like little mirrors.

It was a beautiful, feminine hand. It just wasn't Lucy's original one.

The figure sitting in the lavish canopy bed was frozen. Sometime before the real kicker hit, Lucy had already concluded that this wasn't her dorm room - too little in the way of cheesy posters and too much in the way of velvet and marble. The last she knew, her dorm also wasn't lit by romantic candlelight, barely illuminating high columns and wall draperies. Her bed had changed quite drastically as well, turning into a whole princess number with the biggest mattress ever and gauzy bed curtains that tried and failed to hide the giant room around her. An unlit chandelier dominated the high ceiling above her head, looking as if it was dripping a multitude of sparkling diamonds and hopefully securely fastened because it was big enough to flatten her and the ridiculous bed together.

The whole room was so over the top and opulent that it had slightly short-circuited her brain, making her refuse to deal with it. Waking up in strange places could at least be explained away.

But the realization that this was not even her own body was a different matter.

Lucy's thoughts finally went numb when she clenched her hand and the long mirror-nails pierced into the soft flesh of her palm. Everything felt too vivid: the slight bite of pain, the soft silk nightgown caressing her skin, the cushions with the stitched-on pearls digging into her thin back. With each breath the air smelling like wax, perfumed oils and powder wormed deeper into her brain.

It felt real.

But it couldn't be real, right? What the hell had happened?

The last thing she remembered was cleaning the mascara off her face after coming home from her afternoon lecture about famous European fairy tales. Her head had pounded painfully and her vision had wavered, as if the bathroom mirror had turned into the surface of a lake and then - nothing.

How did it go in the movies again? Being sucked into a portal, bitten by a spider or being in some kind of freak accident ... nothing even remotely like that had happened. Her memories blanked, her last clear thoughts circling around her basket of overdue laundry of all things. She should be waking up in her small dorm by now, with a mean knick in her neck from sleeping slumped over. Right about now.

Instead she was still here ... wherever here was. Still in a body with hands so beautiful they looked photoshopped.

It was ... too much. She heard her own breaths, loud in the oppressive silence, but no air reached her lungs. No matter how hard she tried she just couldn't catch a deep breath, feeling herself slowly suffocating. It was as if the air around her head had been replaced by invisible, thick glue.

She had to get out of here.

Without real thought, she clambered from the bed, her long legs tangling with soft sheets before she could finally free them. Stumbling, she felt her feet sink into something slightly scratchy, the unexpected itching sensation enough to momentarily jar her. She froze next to the bed, her breathing getting slower and deeper with each passing second.

When Lucy finally felt like she wouldn't faint the next second, her gaze wandered down-ward slowly. Expensive carpet, the kind with lots of beautiful motives woven into it, cushioned two tender feet. Small, round toes complimented a curving arch and dainty ankles. Lucy swallowed, trying to take in the sight. Her legs were suddenly long and slender, gifted with the same flawless skin as her new hands. She couldn't even find a stray hair. Instead of a washed out, oversized shirt, a shimmering nightgown caressed her impressive curves and tiny waist, looking like someone had poured molten moonlight over her body.

Where were the thin scars on her knees from too much playing around as a kid? Or her not-at-all-dainty feet?

Her head started spinning again. She wasn't sure how much more she could handle.

Teetering, she grabbed a heavy curtain in front of her, trying to remain upright. Instead it swished aside, revealing not a window like she had expected but a big, polished mirror.

Lucy stared inside and a beautiful woman stared back. She looked older than Lucy's twenty, even though there was not even a hint of wrinkles on her face. Her skin was the color of expensive champagne, smooth and even slightly shimmering as though it was sprinkled with stardust. Her eyes were big and deep amber, framed by long, curling lashes which were still damp from Lucy's panic. Light hair tumbled from her head in glossy waves, the strands appearing as if they were spun from molten gold.

It didn't even remotely look like Lucy's original appearance.

Something swirled inside the mirror, like hot air rising from a fire, distorting the reflection. Hypnotized, she watched as the beautiful woman slowly faded from view, replaced by a smoky shadow, its wavering silhouette illuminated by flashes of reflective silver.

"My Queen ..." an incorporeal voice hissed.

Lucy let out a half-choked sob and quickly tugged the curtain closed again.

This isn't happening, she told herself, staggering backwards. The back of her knees hit the bed and she tumbled onto the soft mattress, almost tearing the see-through bed-curtain from the ceiling.

Remember those nonsense dreams you sometimes have. This is the same, just slightly more vivid.

Lucy forced her eyes shut, trying to ignore her new body and the creepy voice from the mirror. Everything would be just fine once she woke up. This would all be a slightly strange memory she'd archive in her brain and never think about again.

She couldn't say how long she motionlessly sprawled on the mattress, trying to slow her quick breathing and keep the panic at bay. When she was finally overtaken by blackness, Lucy wasn't even sure if it was the relief of sleep or an exhausted faint.