It would be simple, for the mirror to have blood just from being handled. But, in their head, they see a hand mirror swing and smash over a body.
They reach in and pull out a piece for themself. It's pretty. They like mirrors. They don't like being unseen in them but... but it's not empty, not this time. Face after face after face. The find themselves pulling out each and every little piece.
"Who are you?" They whisper, as they collect all the little pieces on the floor. The glass pricks them too, now and again. They bleed red, almost human. They don't stop gathering.
They touch some the flat of the glass of some of those neutral faces, enchanted. For a moment, the world flickers and they are in a dream of fracturing mirrors and faces they know and loved and lost. Then they're back and piling more.
no subject
They reach in and pull out a piece for themself. It's pretty. They like mirrors. They don't like being unseen in them but... but it's not empty, not this time. Face after face after face. The find themselves pulling out each and every little piece.
"Who are you?" They whisper, as they collect all the little pieces on the floor. The glass pricks them too, now and again. They bleed red, almost human. They don't stop gathering.
They touch some the flat of the glass of some of those neutral faces, enchanted. For a moment, the world flickers and they are in a dream of fracturing mirrors and faces they know and loved and lost. Then they're back and piling more.
"I want to find my friend... Can you help me?"