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Mirrors, its like no sooner did he suggest breaking them…than one claw… one terrible reaching claw stretches out of the mirror.
Time seems to slow down in that moment, snapshots, freeze frames of horror as it stretches towards him and -touches-

That touch, that terrible touch that makes him want to cringe, to pull away though there is no place to pull away to is when life seems to launch into motion again. His ribs are pushed aside for a moment, then there just isn’t room, they crack, The sounds alone are sickening, bones snap like green wood, oping sounds and a meaty pull.
Each sound is marks the -tidal wave- of pain that follows. It slams over him and he’s only half aware of being slowly dragged towards the mirror.

This isn’t happening.

Horror is enough that he tries to catch hold of something, anything to slow his progress but his body doesn’t want to respond. He’s easing his own progress by -bleeding, and he can taste it in his mouth.

This can’t be happening. Part of him registers that this means, with very little leeway, that he is dying. That it’s killing him.

He thought, absurdly, that it couldn’t get any worse. Then he’s through the mirror, and it’s looming over him. It’s mouth, horrifying, not spider, not…fish but it has something like lips, something like mandibles, much too wide. He kicked out at it, they looked almost fragile but he was wrong.

He underestimated that mouth, he didn’t count on the sensation of being… devoured.
His foot slammed off those teeth and it was like kicking armor, then it opened, and bit down.

Muscles gave way, bones splintered, and he screamed, then choked on his own bile. He’d been in pain before but now…oh god now. He tried to suck a breath and half choked on what he’d just rejected out of pain. It didn’t stop at one bite, of course it didn’t. It -ate- him and he had to watch. Somehow it was more horrifying when it ate part of his arm, his hand, just…vanishing into that dagger maw. So much blood.

He thought he was still screaming, might have been there was enough pain for it but - … but the world was that voice and a ringing sound in his ears. Pressure in his chest - fireworks across his vision.

He thought there couldn’t be anything that would horrify him more… he thought he wanted more than anything for it to be -over. He was…dizzy, confused. Then he felt it…nuzzle at his stomach. Tears were running down his face, horrified at the near gentleness of the touch. His breath was too fast, had be not been bleeding out, his body struggling to compensate, it would have been hyperventilation.

The mouth, the maw opened, scraping teeth against him even through his shirt, tormenting, taunting like it had a personal vendetta, like it was more than a hungry taunting beast. It tore through muscle and viscera with a sudden, ravenous motion.

His breath went from too fast to alarming pauses, his heart trying too hard to compensate… before it…or they finally gave up. The last of the tension sapped out of him with a ragged breath and he… died, alone consumed in a way, by failure.

He thought… he thought he’d think of his friends, but strangely, the only thing that came to mind was the ocean, standing on the beach, staring out into something like infinity.


At least then though, there was no more pain.