“I... don’t…” Flute panted.
“Look at you. That mirror has trapped you for days. You haven’t eaten and your pain is growing.” Creck told her, mordant words that fell from his tongue like scathing knives.
Teeth clenched, Flute turned her eyes on herself. The mirror became icy and where her arm rested on the glass it began to steam. She could feel the mirrors resonating laughter in her mind, an electrical sound that wracked her thoughts and bit into her subconscious. Crying out she tore her gaze, closed her eyes and fell against the looking glass. Creck lifted his chin. “This is pathetic. You need a channel.”
“I … don’t…” She repeated, the words coming in shallow sobs as hot tears rolling down her cheeks. Her body shook against the glass.
Creck sneered. “Suit yourself.”
As he turned to leave, Flute forced her eyes upon her reflection. The stinging laughter clawed at her mentality again, worse again than before. Shrieking sobs were pulled from somewhere in her throat as she crumpled lamely to the ground.
“Wait!” She croaked through her shaking hands.
Creck paused, looking at her over his shoulder. There was a bleak smile on his face. “Change your mind?”
“I can’t… take this… Please… don’t leave…”
Opening his jacket, he turned and pulled something from an inside pocket. “You’ll be better with this.” He told her, crouching next to her. “I had it made by a channeler much stronger than myself. It’ll be able to contain all this.” With some gentle prodding he was able to pry one of her hands from her face. Around her wrist he wrapped a thick chain with no clasp. On either end of the chain was a cuff, no bigger around than her thumb. A thick spark jumped between the metal and his fingers as he fastened the cuffs to each other, making him jump. When he looked up again, the girl now fell limp over herself.
There were still tears running down her cheeks and there was an empty place in her eyes where the mirror had carved its torture.
“No thanks are in order.” Creck told her, standing again.
Flute was too tired to say anything, to move, to even close her eyes. As Creck shut the wooden door behind him, she fell into something almost peaceful and almost sleep. There were no dreams.