1061: Story 1061: Graveglass Mirror 1061: Story 1061: Graveglass Mirror The mirror was buried deep beneath the chapel ruins of Black Hollow, wrapped in chains soaked with salt and ash, sealed in a coffin lined with human teeth.
The inscription on the lid was barely legible through the rot:
“DO NOT POLISH.
DO NOT PEER.
DO NOT SPEAK ITS REFLECTION.”
But we did.
Because we thought it might show us a way out.
The survivors had dwindled to five.
Starving.
Desperate.
Haunted by shadows that seemed to know their names.
An eldritch fog had descended days ago, turning day to dusk and twisting the forest around them into a tangle of pulsing roots and whispering trees.
The only path left led them into the chapel’s crypts—where time hung still and breath came cold.
That’s where they found the Graveglass.
At first glance, it was nothing more than a shattered mirror.
A black-silver relic, its pieces reformed into a mosaic of jagged, unnatural angles that never quite made a full reflection.
But when Lana touched it—just a single fingertip—it moved.
Not the glass.
The world inside it.
They saw their own corpses.
Twisting in unnatural positions.
Smiling with sewn lips.
Eyes gouged and yet… watching.
One shard showed Owen strangling his brother.
Another showed Lana impaled on a tree that didn’t exist.
The mirror didn’t show the future.
It showed the truth buried beneath memory.
And the thing that watched from behind the glass.
It wore their faces like veils.
Shifting between them with every blink.
Not a doppelgänger—something older.
A being forged of forgotten sin and mirrorflame, cast down when the world was still young and names still mattered.
They called it Ver’Yllk, the Whisperglass.
It fed on the horror of self-recognition—the dread of seeing yourself in your worst, truest form.
It whispered things only you would understand.
It knew what you feared becoming—because it already had.
One by one, the survivors fell.
Talia tried to smash the mirror, but the shards crawled up her arms like spiders, slicing her thoughts into screams.
Jonah walked into the reflection, chasing the version of himself who never lost his daughter.
He never returned.
Lana stayed the longest.
Her will was strong.
Her guilt stronger.
She wrote their names on the floor in her own blood.
Then she spoke a name none of us knew.
Her own true name.
And the mirror shattered again, pulling the chapel into itself.
Now, the Graveglass exists in fragments across the world.
Some hide it.
Some worship it.
But none who stare into it come back unchanged.
They say if you look long enough into its deepest shard, you won’t see yourself—
You’ll see something older staring back.
Something with your voice.
And your smile.
And when you finally blink…
It’s you who ends up inside.