The Darkworld Chronicles: Chapter 5: The Hands

Crack
Crack
Crack

The mirror begins to crack, all around my hand, I stare in horror as the flowers around it begin to die, they wither and curl.

I hear footsteps behind me, i look into the mirror to see its onyx, and a group of people follow behind him.

The mirror stops cracking, I breathe a sigh of relief, onyx and his group freeze, and begin to step back. Edging closer and closer to the exit...

I open my mouth to yell, but a hand clamps my arm, and pulls me closer to the mirror, the hand, almost grey in colour drags me onto the shattered shards of mirror.

More hands reach out to me, all in that same horrible grey tone, they hold my arm still, I struggle against them, as they start picking fragments of mirror off the ground, and scratching them, shaping them into shapes, a moon in one hand, a flower in another, all of them make light work of their fragments, then they lift them, high into the air..

The hands then placed Their fragments to my wrist, to create a bracelet