by Gal Horne
‘Welcome, weary travelers, to the Hall of Mirrors. My name is Vadoma, and I will be your guide this dark night. May I see your tickets please, handsome stranger?’ God damn, she was talking to Jared. To my surprise, I felt my dick throbbing in my pants — I was getting hard just looking at her, she was so fucking sexy I couldn’t believe it. Why was this woman causing such an insane reaction in me?
Jared took the tickets from his pocket and pressed them into Vodoma’s palm.
‘Ahhh,’ she purred, closing her eyes and shivering lightly, ‘I can tell that these were won fair and square in a noble contest of skill.’
‘How do you know that?’ I asked. Was she a fucking fortune teller?
She gave me a playful wink. ‘Don’t worry stranger, nothing nefarious going on here. These late night tickets are only available to win at the fair. You can’t buy them anywhere. For any price. So it’s logical that I should know, you see?’ Where was that accent from? She didn’t even sound like she’d learned English in America. She had this mix of a British accent and something exotic that I just couldn’t place.
Jared smiled. ‘You’ve got a cute little caravan here,’ he said, ‘it’s very authentic-looking.’
She bristled. ‘Well it should look authentic. It’s been in my family for generations. I live here, in the front part of the caravan.’ She gestured to the rest of the interior of the caravan. It was kooky, that’s for sure. Lots of weird old ornaments, the kind of stuff I’d not really seen before. Old porcelain dogs, fucked-up looking mugs with human faces on them, ancient green glass paperweights. The strangest thing though, were these strings of glass beads. Each bead was about an inch long and round. They were bright white with a blue center. It kinda looked like a bunch of eyes on strings, hung from every hook. Kinda creepy.
‘So, I have a couple ground rules I need to just talk you through before you enter the hall of mirrors.’ I was trying to work out where the hall of mirrors actually was. Was there another building she was going to take us to? I couldn’t see any other option. ‘Rule number one: please no touching the surface of the mirrors. They are polished very carefully with a specific technique, and any fingerprints or smudges on the surface will ruin the effect.’
‘OK, no touching,’ I said. ‘That’s not the first time a pretty girl has said that to me.’ I gave Vadoma a cheeky smile and was given nothing but a blank stare in return.
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she deadpanned back at me. ‘Anyway, rule number two: no talking. The hall of mirrors is a secret, quiet space in which people make discoveries about their true selves. It’s important that each viewer of the mirrors is allowed the time and peace to reflect on what they see in their own time.’
So I wasn’t even allowed to talk to Jared while we were looking round? I shot him a look, but weirdly, he looked very attentive, as though he was listening very carefully to everything that Vadoma was saying.
‘It’s important as well,’ she continued, ‘that you don’t discuss with each other afterward what it is that you see in the mirrors. Each vision is extremely personal, and you can dilute the power of the experience if you share it. There is power in secrecy.’
‘Anything else we should watch out for?’ Jared asked, as sincerely as a choirboy. I couldn’t believe how seriously he was taking this.
‘Just one more rule, and it’s the most important one. Whatever you do, don’t look into the moon mirror. It’s coming up to midnight. The moon mirror is in its own room, so I would just walk past the door and don’t go in. It’s an extremely powerful mirror, and if you’re not careful, it can change your life forever.’
A mirror, changing your life forever? What was she talking about.
‘Now,’ she said, ‘if you’re ready, it’s time to enter the hall of mirrors.’ She walked towards the back of the caravan. There was a tapestry hanging there. Maybe not a tapestry, it was kinda like a Persian rug I guess - intricate, repeating patterns on a warm piece of fabric.
She pulled back the heavy-looking rug and to my surprise, there was a door behind it. Above the door was a simple sign that said ‘Hall of Mirrors’.
When she pushed open the door and I saw what was on the other side, I couldn’t believe my eyes.
CHAPTER THREE
There was no way that this was even physically possible. Beyond the doorway was a long corridor. The hallway was dark blue, and silver dots on the walls made the whole space look like the night sky.
‘Well?’ said Vadoma, ‘Aren’t you going to head in? There are wonders to behold in that corridor.’
Jared looked amazed. Mind you, I probably looked as though I’d been slapped silly, too. I don’t know why, but I was creeping forward as slowly as I could manage, trying to work out how on earth it was possible that this caravan extended so much backwards. There must be some kind of optical illusion going on. That was it. In the dark, I’d probably just not seen the building — which must have been painted to look just like the woods — behind the caravan. That had to be it, because it was either that, or this was some kinda fucking magic.
Well, I guess there was one other option: I was blind drunk. But I couldn’t be. I only had a very mild buzz on. Plus the effects of whatever weird narcotic was in the incense this carnival attendant was burning.
Jared though, surged ahead of me. He couldn’t wait to get in there, like a kid in a candy shop. I followed behind. Lots of little rooms branched off the hallway. Jared dashed into the very first room on the right hand side.
‘Wait up,’ I called, only to be surprised by Jared turning round and pushing his finger to his lips. He was telling me to be quiet, while keeping quiet himself, of course. He ducked back into the first room. I followed him.
The room was painted bright, sky blue. At the end, of course, was a mirror. There was a line painted on the floor, parallel to the mirror. I guess that’s the distance that you’re meant to view the mirror from. Jared walked up to the line first and looked into the glass. His eyes widened instantly, and then a look of pure joy spread over his face. His eyes wrinkled up, and he doubled up, as though he were going to laugh. He turned to look at me, and beckoned me over to him.
When I stood next to him and looked into the mirror, my first thought was, ‘Oh, it’s just a goofy fat mirror.’ It took me a couple seconds to realize that this was no simple warped piece of glass.
The figure staring back at me from the highly polished surface was an incredibly accurate version of the way I’d look if I were overweight. The way I knew that it wasn’t just a simple mirror was the fact that in the mirror, my muscle definition was totally gone. And my body wasn’t warped. I just looked fat. I had jowls. I reached up and touched my pecs, and in the reflection, my chest jiggled as though I was really overweight. I couldn’t help it, I laughed. The effect was amazing - I really hadn’t expected to see anything as good as this. Whoever made this mirror was a fricking genius.
Just to test it out, I took a step back from the mark on the ground. The image in the mirror distorted, changed until it looked just like a warped picture of me - the kind of picture you’d imagine a normal curved mirror in a funfair to look like. It was incredible, and I wanted to speak to Jared about it, but I kept my mouth shut, because I knew he’d be upset if I broke any of the Vadoma’s precious rules.
The next room was painted fresh, Spring green - the color of the first shoots of foliage that come up in early March. The mirror at the end of the room was smaller, not quite full length, and strangely, it was set up so that its lowest edge was touching the ground. It was about as high as my chest, but my head was cut off in the reflection as I stepped closer to the mark on the ground.
I approached the mark first this time, while Jared waited by the entrance door. As I stepped closer, I saw that my lower body was slowly shrinking in the mirror’s surface. My legs and waist got thinner and thinner, and then when I stepped onto the mark on the ground, the image changed entirely.
&nb
sp; There was a young boy looking back at me. Not just any boy. It was me. I was transfixed. I’d never seen anything as amazing in my whole life. I was as I’d remembered looking, as I looked in photographs from my youth. I’d had blond hair as a kid, it had faded to a dull, mousy brown as I’d grown up. The blond hair was back, and as I ran my hand through it, I was amazed that the kid in the reflection did the same thing. When I smiled, he smiled back with my smile. Then out of nowhere, stepped up another young boy. It was Jared. I turned to look at him as he stood next to me, a fully-grown, well-built man. He smiled at me, and I looked at the young Jared in the reflection. It was a wonderful feeling. Then, I realized that I could remember the time we’d gone to the carnival as children, the time we’d stood in front of the warped glass in that hall of mirrors, I could remember our smiling faces, the non-stop laughter, doubling up in agony as we chuckled relentlessly. I looked at Jared and was about to saying something, but looking into his eyes, I knew that he knew I could remember.
Then, something a little strange happened, he took hold of my hand, and we walked out of the room together. When we left the room, I let go of Jared’s hand - it had felt totally natural to hold Jared’s hand for a moment, but now that we were out of that room, it just felt fucking weird.
I was about to walk into the next room, when I saw a strange sign above the door. It was a beautiful, hand-painted picture of the moon, against a deep-blue background. It was simple, really, but there was something kinda mesmeric about the image, too. It almost looked as though the pale white-yellow moon was pulsing against the background, swirling clockwise then anti-clockwise, the flecks of thick paint twisting and warping against the wall.
I took a step forward and felt Jared’s hand on my arm. I turned back and saw that he was shaking his head at me with a worried expression. I shrugged, as if to say, ‘What’s the problem.’
Jared looked furtively down the hallway to check whether Vadoma was anywhere to be seen. When he concluded that she wasn’t, he whispered more quietly than I’d ever heard him whisper.
‘Don’t go in there, that’s the moon room.’
‘So?’ I hissed under my breath.
‘She said not to go in there after midnight.’
I looked down at my watch. It was 12:01am.
‘One minute’s not going to make a difference. Come on, let’s have a look. What could possibly be dangerous about it? It’s just a fucking mirror!’ But Jared stood his ground.
‘You can go in if you want, but I’m staying out here. I don’t know why you have to ruin everything like this.’
Honestly, sometimes it just felt as though Jared and I were a fucking old married couple, just bickering away in their marriage bed at the end of a long day.
‘OK you frickin’ nerd,’ I spat. I turned round and walked through the door. This was a little different to the other rooms we’d been in so far. In here was another hallway, with a turn to the right at the end. On the wall all the way down were plaques. The hallway seemed to get darker the further down I walked - it was lit by candles which diminished in size.
I walked up to the first plaque and read it.
Discovered buried deep in the Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico, the Mirror Of The Moon has a long and bloody history. Initially prized for its great beauty, it was only years later that its strange properties were unearthed.
What kind of mirror had ‘strange properties’ that were stranger than a mirror which showed you an image of you as a child, or as an overweight version of yourself? I kept walking and reading.
Stolen in the early nineteenth century by renowned privateer Monroe Muldoon, the Mirror Of The Moon claimed its first victim. Monroe was crushed by the tons of gold doubloons he’d stolen throughout his career which burst through the wall of his pirate vessel. The mirror was found at the top of the pile. Witnesses say that the night before his death, Muldoon had gazed upon the mirror in the full glow of moonlight.
Kind of a creepy story. A pirate had stolen the mirror and got crushed by gold. Not a bad way to go, I thought to myself. Shame he had to go at all, to be sure, but I couldn’t see how looking at a mirror in the moonlight would lead to something like that. I had to admit though, the hairs on the back of my neck were pricking up. It almost felt as though it was getting cooler in here.
As time went on, the mirror switched owner countless times. Rumors began to bubble and spread. Some said that the mirror showed you your heart’s deepest desire. Others said that the mirror’s magic only worked at night. Others of course claim that the mirror has no power whatsoever. We’ll leave that for you to decide. But out of caution, visitors are strictly forbidden after midnight. You have been warned.
I was really spooked now. I’m not sure why. I really considered turning round and leaving, right then and there. I could feel this strange hum in the air, like there were bees buzzing around inside my head. That’s when I saw a gleam of white coming from round the corner. It was moonlight, I was sure. And the moonlight was calling to me strongly, singing to me like the sound of a well struck blade, ringing in my ears. With every step I took forward, I felt myself falling further into the swirl of intoxication I’d been circling the edge of all evening.
I turned the corner and in front of me was an amazing sight: a circular room, with an opening in ceiling. It kind of felt as though I was stepping into an arena of some kind, or an amphitheater, I guess. In the center of the space was a circular mirror. There was no reflection at all in the mirror from where I was standing, it just looked like a larger, silver circle.
Above the mirror was a hanging banner:
To gaze into the mirror of the moon is to gaze into one’s own heart.
I stepped further into the room, approaching the marker on the ground. A beam of moonlight shone brightly down from the ceiling, striking the mirror full on, making it glow alabaster in the evening light. I stepped onto the marker on the ground, and everything in the room changed.
It felt like I was in the mirror, watching the reflection start to swirl and warp inside. As I watched the image of myself, I realized that the reflection’s body was starting to change. At first it was subtle, a little pinch of flesh here, a smoothening of other parts of me there. But then the changes starting coming thick and fast. My face lengthened, my body became curvaceous, breasts appeared, my hair grew long - turned blond, and before I knew it, I’d been transformed into an incredibly hot women. Barely a moment passed before my reflection ripped her clothes off. It was moving fast. Her — my — hands moved over her taut body, teasing her nipples, dipping into her mouth, her pussy, and then, from nowhere, Jared appeared behind her. He was naked too, and his cock was hard — hard and long, thick and powerful. He grabbed me by the waist and bent me over as though there was no strength in my body, then he turned me round so that I could see the gaping pussy of the me in the reflection and then he rammed the red, soft end of his cock deep into the pink of the cunt on display.
Rather than be freaked out by what was going on, I felt my own dick start to harden and lengthen in my pants — I was so fucking turned on, I felt out of control now. I watched the image of Jared fuck the image of me and I started rubbing my cock through my pants, then I opened my zipper and thrust my hand down there and curled my fingers round the hard, warm meat of my cock and tugged and pulled, timing my beats with the thrusts of Jared’s muscular body.
I know I shouldn’t have been doing what I was doing, but I was just caught up in the moment. I could feel myself moving closer to the edge of ecstasy. I couldn’t believe that I was watching Jared fuck a female version of me, and even more than that, I couldn’t believe that I was enjoying it so much. Was this the desire I had in my heart, to be fucked by Jared as a girl? I’d never even thought of being a girl before - but now I watched the curves of my body, the bright blond of my hair, the pale blue of my eyes, my pert, curvaceous breasts, I thought to myself that life might not be so bad as a female.
A few more strokes of my
hard dick, and I was right on the verge of cumming. The reflection of Jared robotically grabbed my reflection’s tits hard, squeezing so that the flesh bunched up around his fingers. The face of my reflection contorted in pleasure as Jared fucked harder and harder, and I felt my pleasure build until a silvery beam of moonlight shone from the surface of the mirror and engulfed my body. I felt a surge of white heat light my body aflame with lust, and I started spraying cum from my cock harder than I ever had. So much came out that I started worrying, and then, I started to feel as though I was getting weaker and weaker. My vision started to fade, my body started to get heavy, my mind went blank.
CHAPTER FOUR
My dreams that night were so fricking strange. A mix of crazy tribal dancing around camp-fires in the nude and bizarre green smoke swirling around my body. I woke sometime in the middle of the night and I was slick with sweat. It wasn’t a warm night, but I was cold from the moisture on my body. I couldn’t remember how I’d got here, but thank God I was in my bed in my apartment. I checked my phone - it was four o’clock I the morning. I wrapped myself up in my blanket and fell back into feverish sleep.
When I woke up in the morning, I experienced a hunger like I can’t even describe. It was like someone had scraped out my insides with a wooden scoop, purging all of the nutrition I’d been storing in my body. When I got to my feet I was surprised to notice I was still fully dressed. My room was nothing fancy — the salary of a personal trainer wasn’t so high, and the money I did earn I spent more on things like clothes and nights out, rather than on decking out my pad with a load of fancy gear.
