You wake up on the cold, ink-stained floor of the Library, with every breath you take in being a struggle to get.
Your cheeks are wet with black sticky and thick tears trailing down your face like flowing water.
When your hands twitch at your sides, you gasp, surprised that you can move again now.
And you don't waste a single second to press your hands to the floor, but the ink seeps into your skin, leaving your palms marked with words you don't notice and you wouldn't even be able to read it you did because of the darkness.
When you're fully up on your feet, goosebumps flood your skin as you feel someone watching you, and your heart pounds.
Muscle memory makes you think you're still in the doll house so you look down at your feet instantly but find them looking normal and human.
You breathe a sigh of relief, taking in a deep but then you hear a raspy laugh, causing fear to begin to crawl up your spine
Slowly, you turn, and there she is.
The Librarian comes out from a seemingly empty darkness in her form of a half shadow, half ink and her usual full stretched grin, gone wide on her face.
Her eyes too many eyes are gleam wetly and watching you from every angle.
A little bit of light fills the library evenly when She comes to stand before you and...
... You don't try to run which feels strange to you because you actually want to run deep down but your mind and body seems to know that she has come to hurt you... yet.
"Well done," she whispers, this time her voice sounds like pages that are tearing off a book.
"You survived the Dollmaker's House. Barely I must say."
Your lips tremble and you immediately want to speak but instead of words, ink spills out off your mouth, smearing your mouth and chin and coating your tongue.
It starts choking you when you try to scream, causing you to grip at your throat.
Like a child you look up at the Librarian for help but she doesn't move to help you or say anything at all.
She only places an index finger on her lips, and you, desperate to live, places your left hand over your mouth.
Instantly, the choking stops and pull down your hand from your mouth then look up at Her again, surprised that she did something to help you.
She tilts her head to the side and grins wider to reveal her black, sharp teeth.
"Do you think you're ready for the next chapter?" she croons, looking at your form up and down.
"I doubt it, but the Library must be fed."
She raises a hand then and ink drips from her fingers, pooling at your feet and immediately it hits the floor, the floor beneath you shudders, splitting wide open.
"Let's see what secrets you've been hiding from your kind," she hisses, narrowing her eyes at you.
"Reading them was delicious but seeing... we'll see. Let's see every lie you've ever told."
You scream as the floor gives way, pulling you down and down until all you see is pitch black darkness.
_
_
_
You land so hard on a cold marble floor that the air gets knocked out from your lungs and you rasp, gasp and wheeze, grunting as you push yourself up.
Blinking as you look around, you notice that you're in a mansion that's literally falling apart with its walls that probably must have once looked so grand and rich, now sagging and covered in black mold.
The wallpaper that should be covering the walls is half peeled away like dead skin, revealing very deep layers of rot underneath it.
Pulling your eyes away from the walls, you look around again and see a just one mirror standing at the end of the hallway.
Its frame is 'ornate' but broken and the silver glass of it is badly cracked.
You think you see something 'swimming' in it and approach it, feeling drawn to find out what it is.
When you're right in front of it, the mirror's surface ripples, and a face appears.
Of course it's your face---- you should have known this by now.
No it's not exactly your face since yours is still intact while for it... is just the same as the one you saw in the last mirror.
The eyes are hollow and sunken in and the mouth is sewn shut with black thread, but the stitches are trembling as if it's trying to scream.
Ink drips down from the corners of the reflection's eyes, staining the glass and you feel moved and hurt on seeing your reflection's suffering.
You've experienced having your mouth shut and being choked by ink so seeing this brings out the compassion in you.
You step closer and the reflection mimics you, following every movement you make, including the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe.
Carefully, you place your hand on the broken mirror and then your reflection's eyes snap open, showing no eyeballs in them but just black pits.
"Liar," it hisses---- somehow without the stitches peeling off--- and you jolt, instinctively trying to back away, but your feet won't move and that's because the ink from the reflection's eyes has fallen out of the mirror then on the floor and has climbed up your legs, rooting you in place.
The mirror starts to shimmers and shine, and then images begin to show on its surface.
But they're not just images, they're memories that you thought were buried.
It shows you images of the day you lied to your best friend and the time you broke the promise that you made to your mother.
... The lies you kept from everyone.
Each betrayal you've ever made flash on the mirror's surface and you feel every word and every look in it.
"Liar," your reflection says again, but this time not in your voice but the voices of all the people you've hurt.
The reflection raises a hand— your hand—and its fingers drip with ink as it presses its palm to the glass, and then the surface of the broken mirror starts to twirl then ripples.
... And then you feel something like a hook in your lower stomach, dragging you forward to the mirror.
You struggle against it, not just because you no longer want to be near your reflection but because the more it pulls you the more your stomach hurts.
However your efforts end up being useless as the ink around your legs tightens, pulling you closer till you hit the mirror.
The mirror's surface is as cold as ice, and as your face meets the glass and your breath fogs the surface.
Your reflection now up close smiles at you, and its stitches snap open.
"It's time to drown in your own regrets," it says and immediately the glass of the mirror liquefies, swallowing your face, your eyes and your screams.
Then you're fully into the mirror, tumbling through black water that tastes like blood and yet somehow your lies.
Voices surround you, repeating your own lies in your head.
"Liar."
"Traitor."
"Coward."
They insult you, pull at your mind while the water grows thicker and begins filling your mouth and nose.
You try to scream, but the water is inside your mouth so all that comes out are bubbles.
You struggle but you've suddenly lost your ability to swim, now chest burns and you claw and flap at the dark water but there's nothing to hold just water.
"You can't escape what you are," you hear someone say but you don't know who it is.
Then your vision darkens, and your lungs fill.
... And you suffocate on every lie you've ever told.
----------------
You wake up in the Library, coughing up blood and ink instead of water, and it stains the floor, soaking into the wood.
The Librarian hovers over you, grinning and looking at you with satisfaction in her many eyes.
"Well done," she purrs.
"The Library is very pleased with you."
You gasp, struggling to breathe and your chest feels heavy with every breath feeling like someone is running a razor through your throat as you bend over and hit at your chest with your closed fist.
She leans down, not bothering herself with your struggles and discomfort, and drags you by your hair, making you to look at her face that is inches from yours.
You smell her breath for the first time and it's cold and smells of old books and rot.
"Remember," she says.
"The Library knows every lie you've ever told."
She presses a finger to your lips, smearing ink across your mouth.
"And it will show them to you again," she says.
"And again, and again, and again."
You whimper at her words and close your eyes while tears of ink begin leaking out from the corners of your eyes.