Page 72 of Demonic Cage
The eyes follow, but I hope Darya is preoccupied with butchering. I take a deep breath and push the handle down. It’s not locked. How did I not notice this before?
Darya’s words echo in my head.You said you wanted to go to a place where they wouldn’t lock you up. You’re the one who can free yourself from your room. But if you leave prematurely and encounter a demon, you must know how to defend yourself.
I press the knife to my side. If a monster trusts me, I must trust myself, too. I can defend myself.
I know where to go to find answers: in the courtyard adorned with vines, where the fresh scent of narcissus hits me.
The mirror garden hasn’t changed, only that the warmth of the sun has now been replaced by the cool breeze of the night.
I look up to see bright stars illuminating the open space. I know which mirror to go to, but I don’t remember exactly where it is. Making sure not to look into the glass, I try to read the frames of the mirrors to determine which one I’m at. Now I understand the demon language, it is ridiculously simple. I find the Mirror of Desire for Possibilities, where a few months ago I saw myself gaining ten kilos of muscle. Unable to contain my curiosity, I grit my teeth and glance into it. The image has changed; beautiful angel wings look back at me and I have a halo above my head. Could I really become an angel?
The next glass shows the Desire of Anger. I grin. Darya lies broken before me, and I hold a dagger in my bloody hands. Not the one I have – that blade is exquisite, like jewelry.
I look into the next mirror. I freeze. The Mirror of Desire of the Body.
No! The image hasn’t changed. I am half-naked in Darya’s lap, my face clearly indicating pleasure. I grab the edges of the mirror and shake it.
“No!” I hiss.
I feel suction on my skin and the mirror pulls me towards it like a vacuum. Straight into the image I just saw. I sit half-naked in Darya’s lap, his head between my breasts. I feel warmth between my legs, his smooth hand gripping my thigh. I have to get out of here! But I can’t.
As Darya pulls off my clothes, leaving me completely naked, I shiver. His hands search a place that elicits a moan from my throat, and my lips find his. He’s only wearing pants, and I writhe naked on his lap. I smell the scent of cave, his gentle breath raising the hairs on my neck.
He grabs my breast, and I moan again, unable to escape the undulating state. What is happening to me?
I relish as his hands greedily claw at my skin, his lips trailing down my neck, then gasp when they reach my chest. I shouldn’t be here, but I’m enjoying every minute of it.
Gathering all my strength, I step back.
I drop to my knees amidst the vines, and I just tremble.
Why didn’t I leave the mirror immediately? If Darya were here, he would say I hate myself, and he’d be right.
I pull myself up, decisively turning away from the mirror. That’s exactly why I need to disappear from here. Because I desire a monster.
The Mirror of Predestination is bordered with the same bronze frame as the others. However, my sudden joy evaporates when I see nothing else in the reflection but the two doors, offering the same two choices. I either open the gates of Hell or of Heaven. Desperately, I shake the mirror, hoping it will pull me into its world, but nothing happens.
My knees tremble. The mirrors not only show what I understand rationally but also, by some enchantment, the future. A choice.
I thought I would find something here.
I check them again. No difference. I can’t even determine which is which.
I sigh and kick the ground. Damn it! There has to be something here, something that…
In the distance, just for a moment, a girl dressed in white walks by in one of the mirrors. Though she has her back to me, and I only catch a glimpse, I know who she is. I would recognize her anywhere.
I run to the mirror. The Desire for Knowledge. Mist fills the mirror, just like when I looked into it the first day. I concentrate. I’m not crazy, I saw something!
And then she reappears. Gracefully, like a Greek goddess carved from marble. Pandora walks elegantly towards me. I take a deep breath and step into the mirror.
I find myself in a flowery garden. The ivy is mauve, and broken columns rise up, disappearing into the billowy clouds. Finally, there’s a scent of flowers other than narcissus.
Hibiscus and laurel roses paint the airy garden in bright shades of red and purple. The Greek Datura sneaks between mauve benches. The pollen caresses my skin. A stream flows beside me. Its gentle murmur reminds me of a piano melody from my childhood. One could spend an eternity here.
In the midst of the colorful scenery, a girl plays a worn, once golden, harp by the stream’s edge. Pandora.
She would shine even if darkness engulfed everything. Her skin is as pale as the moon, her lips rose-red. I stare in awe. I’ve never heard harp music before. I feel like an intruder in this sanctuary.
