Too Late (Fiction)

Too late (Fiction)

So... I decided to share something with you guys... It used to be a text in French I kept in a sketchbook where I doodle and sometime write things. I remember being in a weird mood when I wrote it xD I translated the text so you can all enjoy. I made it gender neutral too, so if you want, you can picture yourself. So, here ya go folks...

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Lifting their head up, they looked into the mirror. They only saw a fuggy miasma, heavy and stifling, wrapping a dark shadow. Glinting eyes followed every move they made, a deep chuckle vibrating through the mirror. The human stood frozen, unable to look away from the scene. Though, after some minutes of mutual staring, the shadow finally spoke up.

A malicious, striking voice, coming from the deepest abysses boomed in the mirror’s glass. Poor human. Every word echoed through their mind, as if hearing once wasn’t enough. They could only listen to those cutting words, still unmoving. “Truth hurts, small one.” Yeah, it was indeed true, most of the time.

Many days passed and many times did the small human came back in front of the mirror, the shadow always there, waiting for them to come back patiently. It knew they would always come back. It knew its prey; it knew them all too well. No secret could be kept hidden, for the shadow knew everything the world could handle.

The small human was curved in the palm of its hand; too naïve to see what was before them. They thought the shadow would always be there for them. Even in their darkest mood, hidden under their cover, they couldn’t see the shadow, but they knew it was near. It was always waiting for them.

One day, from a mutual agreement, they both tied a red thread to their pinkies. From what the shadow said, they now would always be linked together, no matter the distance. They would always be connected, no matter what situation.

The shadow took a lot of space into the human’s life. When needed, it always whispered advices and kept them company. It was peaceful for once, some could say. However, soon the tread became two, then three, then too much. Bound from everywhere, the small human became a puppet for the shadow to play with.

Happy with its successful plan, the shadow toyed with the puppet for some time, enjoying some entertainment. But soon, after some days, it grew tired of them. It was bored already. However, what could it do? The shadow was still bound to the puppet.

One day, an idea popped through the shadow’s mind and with some witchcraft, vipers slowly began gliding down the threads. Hissing their forked tongues, they headed towards the puppet, apprehending their prey.

How beautiful they were. Their charming magnetic eyes, their cold blooded scales, their sharp fangs so deadly opened… The small puppet tried to open their mouth to greet them.

But with synchronized snaps… It was too late.