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Look at that booty Disguise Home at Last Reflection

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Home at Last

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"Ah, home at last,” he said as he carried the mirror into the house. None of his housemates appeared to be home, so without the need to make small talk, he went straight to his room.

Inside, the room was just as he'd left it. Ribbit was still hanging out in her tank, a fact that was always surprising since the tank had no lid. Glintsprock figured she just enjoyed his rock 'n' roll lifestyle. Clothes covered every available surface and a stale smell hung in the air. That either meant that a) something had died in there (again), b) he needed to wash his sheets (yeah, like that was going to happen), or c) his natural goblin aroma was finally starting to permeate the room. It had taken months, but that room was finally starting to feel like his. Perhaps it was time to get some homely decorations. He added that to his mental list of 'Stuff to Steal'.

Humming a little tune (it was one of the Shit-Stained Lizardz most popular songs. It had rhyming words and a chorus and everything - he was super proud of it), Glintsprock propped the mirror up against the end of his bed. It was almost perfectly opposite the mirror he'd stolen a few days ago.

"Brilliant, this'll save me twirling around like a spinning top,” he said as he admired his newest acquisition. As he'd noticed earlier, the mirror was a quality piece of work. The carvings were delicate and beautiful. And... there was something else. Something he hadn't noticed previously.

Leaning towards it, Glintsprock gave the mirror a sniff. Now, that was interesting. It absolutely reeked of magic. The combined stench of the fur coat and the marketplace must have masked it before, but now there was no doubt about it. This thing was enchanted.

Glintsprock smiled. There was a gnomish scholar he could sell this to for a pretty penny. Actually, he thought he'd probably be able to get a large collection of pretty pennies for it. While he had no real need for money (he stole everything he needed), he did like to horde it. It was nice to look at the nice shiny things.

But he could sell it later. Right now he needed it.

 

*****

 

 

Glintsprock slipped into a pair of trousers that had previously belonged to a gnomish pirate. They made him look daring and brave... everything a rock star should be. Ribbit croaked and hopped around her tank, obviously pleased with the goblin's latest clothing choice.

As he stared at his reflection and wondered about getting a tattoo of the Shit-Stained Lizardz's logo on his bicep, Glintsprock noticed something.

Movement.

He looked more closely at the reflection, but could only see his own image reflected in the mirror behind him. Odd.

'I just need more sleep,' he said, knowing he hadn't slept well for a while. There had been far too much partying. And stealing.

Deciding he would have a nap in a little while, he went back to admiring his reflection. A tattoo would look good, but he wasn't sold on the band logo idea. What if they broke up? What if he went solo? These were important things to consider.

Then he saw it again. A movement. A shadow.

Glintsprock turned around to face the other mirror. There was nothing there.

Weird.

He'd never admit it to anyone, but Glintsprock was a little on edge. It was a good job no-one else was there; he would have had the piss ripped out of him for sure.

"Don't be such a chicken,” he muttered. He'd never understood that phrase, even though almost everyone said it. Every chicken he'd met had been a vicious little fucker that seemed determined to peck his eyes out. "Hmm,” he said as the thoughts spun around his brain, "maybe I should be more of a chicken.”

He stood up straight and glared into the mirror, giving it his best I'll-Pluck-Your-Eyes-Out stare. He had to hand it to himself, it was a chilling look. He'd have to remember to use it the next time he needed to scare the shit out of someone.

As he smiled, he noticed that movement again.

"What the fuck is going on?” he said to the mirror, still channelling his inner chicken. The mirror didn't answer, which was probably a good thing as he would have shit himself if it had.

He stared intently at his reflection again, and then the shadow showed up once more, he was expecting it.

"There you are,” he said. "Now, what are you?”

The shadow flitted from one side of the mirror's frame to the other. It spun and danced, moving with grace and poise. At one point, Glintsprock found himself clapping as the shadow did a little loop-de-loop. No matter what this thing was, it was bloody entertaining. He'd have to mention that when selling it to the gnomish scholar. Such a feature would really drive up the price, and a higher price meant more shiny things.

The shadow did another lap of the mirror's edges, this time moving even faster than it had before. Glintsprock squealed with delight... until the shadow turned and appeared to head straight for him.

Darkness filled the mirror and Glintsprock scrambled backwards, tripping over a discarded scarf and whacking his head on the other mirror. He dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. His little mishap caused him to miss the next part of the shadow's show.

The inky blackness slithered out of the mirror and made its way to the goblin's prone form. Wrapping itself around him, it gave a contented sigh before absorbing itself into Glintsprock's body.

Ribbit didn't utter a single croak as she watched the scene unfold. She may have been a frog, but she was smart. There was no sense in getting the creepy shadow thing's attention.

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