Some of my old recurring nightmares are cropping back up and I wouldn't be surprised if the mirror one did too. I know I told it to Seebs because he was talking about something very similar but that was a few months back and I dunno if anyone saw it. My sleep's kiiinda been fucked lately because nightmares/terrors and now I've been avoiding sleep because if I don't sleep I don't have to worry about it! Hahaha. Ha. Spoiler: Laz hates mirrors and this is why Also that particular scene in the Young Wizard series gave me the creeps for exactly the wrong reason: I'm in a hall of mirrors, maybe a maze or maybe I'm just having a hard time finding my way. They're not funhouse mirrors, but the walls are smooth and unbroken and completely reflective. There are no seams, everything is just. Mirrors. And since I'm surrounded by them each reflection has a reflection has a reflection, and each reflection degrades, become a little less me. One of them is my Real Reflection, and if I can find it I'm safe. But I can't because there are thousands of Wrong Reflections, all around me, a lot of them look exactly like me except they're a little off, they follow my movements just half a second too slow or they stay still when I'm not looking directly at them or the eyes are all wrong. But the reflections of reflected reflections are more noticeably Wrong, they have scratches or scars or they don't have the scars that I do and somehow that's even worse, or they have mouths full of razorblades or spiny transparent anglerfish teeth or their skin is waxy and dead. And there's hundreds of them. Thousands. All around me. And I can't escape because everything is mirrors, I can't even find the turns in the hall unless I smack into a mirror because everything is so disorienting. I've never found my Real Reflection either, I always end up startling awake at one particularly nasty reflection or someone wakes me up or my brain decides to throw me a bone and I wake up naturally but without any kind of conclusion. And my other recurring, the one that's popped back up and I don't wanna deal with. Spoiler: Stupid Shadow-faced Asshole So, first of all: dream-me is apparently a Functional Adult and lives in a major city. I'm not sure which one, and the details change pretty much every time. But I always have an apartment and a job and live on my own. The dream starts as... pretty much an average day for this incarnation of myself. I drag my feet about getting out of bed. I function at minimum power levels until I've managed coffee. I mentally complain about my wardrobe when I get dressed. Sometimes I have the day off and am taking this day to run errands. If I don't then my job is something that takes me all over town, delivery or something. I leave my apartment. I see Him. He is someone I know, someone waking-me knows. He is Not Supposed to Be Here. He's far away now, way down the hall or across the street, sometimes I see Him from the back. Dream-me is always jarred but... maybe I'm seeing things. He was far away, or I only saw part of His face. I brush it off. I continue on. I start hitting the first of my errands or go to work. I see Him again, from a distance. He's heading into a store down the street, He's getting into a cab or crossing the street away from me. I'm just paranoid, I'm seeing things, seeing someone who looked like Him has made me anxious. He appears again. I brush it off. I brush it off. As it gets later into the day it gets worse. He's everywhere, it's clear it's Him now, and He's close. He's stopped appearing doing innocuous things that could make Him anyone, He's just there and He's waiting. I turn the corner in the grocery store and He's at the end of the aisle and He's staring and He's waiting and the only thing I can do is back away and leave. I can't escape and I'm running now, trying to lose him on the subway or taking taxis to I don't even know where but He's always there when I arrive and I end up just running down the street trying to get away. There's... fuck there's probably a name for it. But you know how sometimes when there's a road on a steep hill there's a part of the building that ends up exposed? I think they usually lead to maintenance tunnels or something, the ones I'm thinking of specifically. Anyway I stop, and I am not fucking running anymore. So I go in, and it's a bare-minimum room with a stupid flickery exposed bulb and a metal staircase down to an almost identical room, and I go down. And I know what's going to happen next. Dream-me knows it. Awake-me knows it. And yet it is still always fucking jarring. He's there. And He's waiting. Because of course He was, it was never going to end any differently, we were always going to end up here. And he holds His hand out and there's something in it, something He's offering but I can never see what it is, the light is bad and it's something small and that doesn't matter because I take it anyway. Or at least, I reach out to, but I always wake up before my hand closes around it, before I can feel what it is. When I wake up I can't remember His face or who He is, just that I should. It's not a wake up screaming and crying nightmare, but I always wake up feeling both hella unsettled and... guilty. Like I fucked up on "the only viable recourse is torch everything and move to a different country" levels of guilt, like I've done something completely unforgivable and the stain is never coming out. Fortunately that feeling never sticks but still. Fuck.