"Well, my part of the deal is done," Airam announced, stretching lazily, the movement causing the tight dress to draw curves that, for an instant, seemed to stop time around her, "Now it's Mr. Connor's turn. You have exactly one chance to convince me that this date wasn't a waste of time."
Leif let out a short laugh.
He had understood perfectly: with the girl in front of him, hints or subtle games wouldn't work.
She was direct, an open challenge.
"A challenge. I like it," he said. He took a determined step toward her and, before she could anticipate it, his hand closed skillfully around her wrist.
Airam's gaze turned to pure ice in a fraction of a second. Her entire body tensed, ready for a counterattack, but Leif's movement was faster and, above all, not aggressive. He didn't use force; it was a firm pull, an unavoidable guide that tore her from her stance and forced her to run with him across the street, toward the amusement park that gleamed in the distance.
"May I ask what the hell you're doing!?" she exclaimed, more surprised at being caught off guard than genuinely angry, as her boots echoed on the asphalt.
"Fulfilling my part!" Leif shouted over his shoulder, without slowing his pace and with a triumphant smile, "I'm taking you to play something that isn't so childish!"
Their run ended right in front of the park's most intimidating attraction: the tallest and fastest roller coaster.
Minutes later, they were ascending with a slow, mechanical clatter.
The car reached the highest point, offering a panoramic view of the entire town sprawling beneath them.
After a tense pause that seemed to last an eternity, the machine plunged into the void, and an overwhelming sensation of weightlessness hit their stomachs.
The wind roared with a savage fury in their ears, drowning out everything except the sharp screams that pierced the air around them.
Leif shouted with all his strength, releasing the tension and adrenaline of the moment. He turned his head mid-fall, expecting to find a pale face on Airam, perhaps with her eyes closed in panic.
However, Airam was not only not screaming, but had spread both arms wide, as if to embrace the speed. She took the wind head-on, with her hair whipping her face and a smile of pure, wild euphoria drawn on her lips.
In her eyes shone a raw emotion, like that of an eagle that, after breaking its cage, finally enjoys the absolute freedom of flight.
When the roller coaster braked abruptly and they returned to the platform, they both climbed out, slightly unsteady. Airam's face was flushed with excitement, and she looked at Leif with a sparkle he hadn't seen in her before. For the first time, she gave him a completely sincere smile.
"Okay..." she admitted, trying to catch her breath, "That... that was kind of fun."
Leif observed the spark of life that had not yet faded in her eyes, and his mind, far from clearing, filled with even more questions.
"It seems my performance today passed the test, didn't it?" he said, regaining his playful tone.
Airam did not reply. Instead, on a sudden impulse, she stood on her tiptoes, moved closer to him, and gave him a quick, firm kiss on the cheek.
The soft sensation was electric, but it vanished in an instant.
"..."
Leif remained motionless, bringing his hand to the cheek she had kissed, feeling the faint warmth and fragrance she had left there.
He watched her as she turned and began to walk, with a confident sway in her hips.
A slow, deep smile spread across Leif's face as he watched her walk away.
"Interesting."
...
The roller coaster's adrenaline had barely dissipated when night fully fell, lighting up the town's streetlights and signs.
Leif was about to suggest that perhaps the date had come to an end, when Airam, who had stopped to look at the street bustle, turned to him.
"The new Mayflower Mall," she said, without preamble, with that direct intensity that was beginning to become familiar to him, "Are we going, or are you tired already?"
Leif smiled. The challenge was evident, "As long as we have time for another round of scares, I'm in. Lead the way."
Half an hour later, they were standing in front of the Mayflower.
The building was a striking renovation of an old structure; its luxurious facade was crowned by a huge neon sign that flickered, bathing the sidewalk in a diffused, somewhat sickly light.
However, the precise moment they crossed the automatic doors, an indescribably strange sensation enveloped them, as if they had stepped into another dimension.
The lobby design was overwhelming and strangely aggressive; it was a labyrinth of reflections.
Not only were there full-length mirrors on the walls, but the marble floor was so polished that it reflected their distorted silhouettes from below. Huge decorative mirror spheres hung from the ceiling like a hundred crystal eyes, and even the interior walls of the panoramic elevators were reflective surfaces that duplicated the space to infinity.
It was impossible to look anywhere without seeing oneself.
"It's... a bit excessive, don't you think?" Leif murmured, tilting his head, feeling a budding migraine, "I feel like I'm being watched from ten angles at once."
"..."
?
Then he realized Airam wasn't answering him.
She had frozen completely a few steps from the entrance, her brow slightly furrowed and a palpable seriousness on her face. Her sharp eyes weren't just looking; they seemed to be "listening" to something he couldn't hear.
Since she had set foot inside, Airam had felt uneasy, a psychic static that prickled her skin.
It was a rejection coming from the depths of her soul, as if countless eyes were watching her, screaming silently from behind those cold reflective surfaces.
She, who had her own unnatural connection to mirrors, was hypersensitive to this kind of presence. And this place was saturated... it was full of echoes of "her own kind," but these were charged with resentment and a palpable madness.
"It's not that they are watching," she finally said in a low voice, and her tone sent a chill down Leif's spine, "It's that they are too noisy."
Leif froze for a second, not understanding, "Noisy? What do you..."
He started to ask, but the intensity of her gaze stopped him. Disconcerted by her strange choice of words and the oppressive atmosphere of the place, Leif searched for a rational explanation around him.
It was then that his gaze fell on an elegant bronze directory next to the entrance.
Beneath the mall map, a small commemorative plaque detailed the building's history: "Preserving History for the Future. The Mayflower Mall, erected on the foundation of the historic St. Matthew's Hospital."
Leif reread the sentence twice. "St. Matthew's Hospital." The name sounded vaguely familiar... a psychiatric hospital.
!
The connection hit him like a punch to the stomach: Mayflower, an abandoned psychiatric hospital, and a morbid obsession with mirrors. The plot of that old horror movie, "Mirrors," flashed into his mind.
No, it couldn't be such a macabre coincidence, could it?
An alarm went off in his mind and without changing expression, he activated his Purification ability, not as a visible flash, but as an internal surge.
He felt a mental light, white and bluish, expanding from his center, dissolving the cold, sticky energy that had adhered to him since he entered.
The relief was instantaneous, like stepping out of icy water, but when he turned, he noticed Airam's tense profile, who was still frowning.
"This place gives me a bad feeling," he suggested in a low voice, "The atmosphere is... heavy. Are you sure you don't prefer to leave?"
Airam shook her head, and a flash of pure belligerence shone in her eyes, "No. Since we came, I'm staying. I want to see what the hell these things are plotting."
Too stubborn to retreat.
Leif sighed to himself, but couldn't help but smile. Seeing her so determined, he knew he could only accompany her. With the abilities he had acquired, he felt reasonably confident that, even if the "Mirrors" movie scenario came true, he could handle whatever was thrown at them.
They both walked side by side, venturing into the labyrinth of reflections. Airam, as an act of defiance against the oppressive atmosphere, dragged Leif toward a clothing store. She took a black leather jacket from the rack and tossed it over her shoulders, planting herself in front of a three-way mirror. The image the reflection returned radiated pure strength.
"How is it?" she asked, more as an assertion than a question.
"It looks perfect on you," Leif said sincerely, "Although, to be fair, you make anything look good."
Airam glanced at him through the mirror, and the corner of her lips curved into a satisfied half-smile.
!
Just then, the mall speakers emitted a deafening beep of static, followed by a trembling voice screaming in panic, "Fire! Fire on the third floor! I repeat, there is a fire! All customers and employees are asked to evacuate immediately through the emergency exits!"
The announcement had barely finished when a dense cloud of black smoke began cascading down the central atrium.
The fire alarms exploded.
In a second, order disintegrated; the mall turned into a chaos of screams, cries, and the roar of hundreds of people running in all directions.
"Shit, this way!" Leif reacted instantly, grabbing Airam's wrist and pulling her toward the nearest emergency exit sign.
However, the fire seemed to move with an unnatural speed. In a matter of seconds, the flames licked a decorative plastic wall, blocking their escape route.
In that instant, the ceiling sprinklers activated, unleashing a deluge of ice-cold water that fell onto the panicked crowd, the slippery floor, and, above all, the countless mirrors.
In the confusion, a group of terrified people collided with them. Leif felt Airam's hand slip from his. The human tide separated them and pushed them in opposite directions, cornering Airam against a huge full-length mirror on the wall.
The ice-cold water streamed down the surface of the glass, causing her reflection to ripple and distort, as if the image behind the glass was trying to melt.
Airam stared intently at her own blurred reflection and, suddenly, felt a gigantic, unmistakable suction force that did not come from the fire or the crowd.
It was pulling her, not her body, but directly at her soul.
It was an immense pressure, a hungry call coming from a much older existence!
And its target was, without a doubt, her.
________
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