Blair Bathory

But he was just scared, while Simone thought she might be cursed. He reached for her. She flinched. The ring gleamed in the dim light, and for a second, his face twisted, not with fear, but with something like hatred. She blinked, and it was gone." On the night before the wedding, she saw the woman in the mirror again. Not a reflection. This time, it was a presence behind her.

But he was just scared, while Simone thought she might be cursed. He reached for her. She flinched. The ring gleamed in the dim light, and for a second, his face twisted, not with fear, but with something like hatred. She blinked, and it was gone." On the night before the wedding, she saw the woman in the mirror again. Not a reflection. This time, it was a presence behind her.

Pale dress, hair matted with dirt. The garnet glowed on the woman's hand like a living ember. "'Do you love him?' the woman whispered, her voice both distant and inside Simone's head. Simone turned to run, but no one was there. Only the mirror that had cracked down the center." Mark disappeared on the morning of the wedding. His phone was on the nightstand. His suit hung untouched.

Pale dress, hair matted with dirt. The garnet glowed on the woman's hand like a living ember. "'Do you love him?' the woman whispered, her voice both distant and inside Simone's head. Simone turned to run, but no one was there. Only the mirror that had cracked down the center." Mark disappeared on the morning of the wedding. His phone was on the nightstand. His suit hung untouched.

Pale dress, hair matted with dirt. The garnet glowed on the woman's hand like a living ember. "'Do you love him?' the woman whispered, her voice both distant and inside Simone's head. Simone turned to run, but no one was there. Only the mirror that had cracked down the center." Mark disappeared on the morning of the wedding. His phone was on the nightstand. His suit hung untouched.

His car keys sat in the bowl by the door. No note. No calls. But Simone knew. The ring had never wanted him. The police found nothing. No signs of a break-in. No struggle. Just muddy footprints leading away from the house. Barefoot. The same size as Simone's. She wore the dress anyway. sat alone in the pews of the old church. It was raining outside, soft and relentless.

His car keys sat in the bowl by the door. No note. No calls. But Simone knew. The ring had never wanted him. The police found nothing. No signs of a break-in. No struggle. Just muddy footprints leading away from the house. Barefoot. The same size as Simone's. She wore the dress anyway. sat alone in the pews of the old church. It was raining outside, soft and relentless.

His car keys sat in the bowl by the door. No note. No calls. But Simone knew. The ring had never wanted him. The police found nothing. No signs of a break-in. No struggle. Just muddy footprints leading away from the house. Barefoot. The same size as Simone's. She wore the dress anyway. sat alone in the pews of the old church. It was raining outside, soft and relentless.

She clutched the bouquet so tightly the stems snapped, and then she heard it.

She clutched the bouquet so tightly the stems snapped, and then she heard it.

She clutched the bouquet so tightly the stems snapped, and then she heard it.

Not Mark, not quite. A voice that echoed his, but hollow, repeating something he'd once said, or maybe had only meant to say. Do you love me? She rose without thinking, moving toward the altar. The ring pulsed. In the cracked mirror beside the nave, she saw the woman again. Pale dress, hair clinging wet to her cheeks, the garnet on her hand burned like a living coal.

Not Mark, not quite. A voice that echoed his, but hollow, repeating something he'd once said, or maybe had only meant to say. Do you love me? She rose without thinking, moving toward the altar. The ring pulsed. In the cracked mirror beside the nave, she saw the woman again. Pale dress, hair clinging wet to her cheeks, the garnet on her hand burned like a living coal.

Not Mark, not quite. A voice that echoed his, but hollow, repeating something he'd once said, or maybe had only meant to say. Do you love me? She rose without thinking, moving toward the altar. The ring pulsed. In the cracked mirror beside the nave, she saw the woman again. Pale dress, hair clinging wet to her cheeks, the garnet on her hand burned like a living coal.

Their eyes met, and Simone understood. It was never about him. It was about her. The ring didn't feed on love lost. It fed on love given freely, obsessively. Sacrificially, her fingers tightened around the bouquet. She whispered, I They found her two weeks later, barefoot in the forest behind the church. Her dress was pristine, untouched by dirt or rain. Her hands were bloody.

Their eyes met, and Simone understood. It was never about him. It was about her. The ring didn't feed on love lost. It fed on love given freely, obsessively. Sacrificially, her fingers tightened around the bouquet. She whispered, I They found her two weeks later, barefoot in the forest behind the church. Her dress was pristine, untouched by dirt or rain. Her hands were bloody.

Their eyes met, and Simone understood. It was never about him. It was about her. The ring didn't feed on love lost. It fed on love given freely, obsessively. Sacrificially, her fingers tightened around the bouquet. She whispered, I They found her two weeks later, barefoot in the forest behind the church. Her dress was pristine, untouched by dirt or rain. Her hands were bloody.

Her eyes were blank. The ring was gone. She wouldn't speak for days until a nurse found her carving names into the wall with her fingernails. Eleanor, Lisbeth, Simone. When asked where the ring went, she only smiled. It needs love to survive, she said, voiced soft with devotion. And I loved him enough. Six months later, a young woman in Ohio found a velvet pouch at an estate sale.

Her eyes were blank. The ring was gone. She wouldn't speak for days until a nurse found her carving names into the wall with her fingernails. Eleanor, Lisbeth, Simone. When asked where the ring went, she only smiled. It needs love to survive, she said, voiced soft with devotion. And I loved him enough. Six months later, a young woman in Ohio found a velvet pouch at an estate sale.

Her eyes were blank. The ring was gone. She wouldn't speak for days until a nurse found her carving names into the wall with her fingernails. Eleanor, Lisbeth, Simone. When asked where the ring went, she only smiled. It needs love to survive, she said, voiced soft with devotion. And I loved him enough. Six months later, a young woman in Ohio found a velvet pouch at an estate sale.