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They are pressing so hard into the porcelain his hands feel like they will break any moment. Her hand on the back of his neck forces him to see his reflection in the mirror. What he sees is harrowing. His eyes grow wide with fear; his breath gets short and irregular. The darkness staring back at him is vaguely familiar. The smoky, charred skin and cold eyes of the figure in the mirror clutch his heart. Her grip tightens, pressing his face closer to the darkness. He realizes the figure standing before him is him. Not in some distant future, but him as he truly feels. His face touches the glass, then a tear rolls down his cheek and the mirror simultaneously. His body shakes as he feels the weight of the darkness consuming him. The weight becomes overwhelming and the room closes in around him as he collapses to the floor, breaking the sink on the way down. She leans over him, touching his face, then his neck. His skin is cold to the touch. His heartbeat has slowed significantly, but the pulse hasn't stopped yet.