[hr][hr]

[center][h2] Siobhan [/h2][/center]

[hr][hr]

"What the fuck?!" Ana yelled reflexively in her native Polish.

"Christ!" Niko winced as Siobhan started to go off like an unstable siren. "What the fuck is it? They're just-" He started to snap at her as the wreck of the woman started rambling at him, before looking around at the mirrors and cutting himself off.

His gaze unfocused, his eyes looked at things unseen, and then his body tensed.

Every hair on end, like needles, or knifepoint.

"We... need to go." Niko blinked, faltering, as he took a weak backwards step towards the window.

"What is going on? Siobhan, what is the matter?" Ana reached out to touch Siobhan, before thinking better of it and settling for moving into Siobhan's line of sight. "What's wrong with the mirrors?"

And then the light flickered. 

Not like a lamp. Not like a bulb receiving a spotty current. Not like a candle.

Like something had, for a split-hair fraction of a second, stepped in front of the only light source in the attic - the window itself, their route to safety - and then leapt out of the way.

For Siobhan, the mirrors were beginning to move, her self and her self and her self and her self rolling and rolling and rolling and spinning over and over, things becoming visible behind her behind her behind her behind her, blood and blood or blood if blood in her mouth - the taste and the smell and the fear of it...

But the pain lifted. A little. And something disappeared from the mirrors. 

She wasn't sure what. But something.