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hexsie · 5 months ago

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Cracks in the Mirror

3k words - Hexsy Lore

“And that's how you make a caramel latte.” SMG3 beamed, exuding confidence as Hexsy stared at him with a look of approval and awe. She gave a polite little clap at his demonstration.

“Thank you, thank you. Now enjoy your coffee, loser.” He slid the coffee cup across the counter, allowing her to easily catch it before it glided off the counter.

“You love me.” Hexsy teased with a smug look, taking a long sip of her drink, relishing in the moment of dull conversation and the sight of Three.

“Unfortunately.” SMG3 mocked, causing her to blow a raspberry. He chuckled. “I'm joking. You're not that bad.” He exaggerated his movements, slouching over the counter.

“Whatever.” Taking another sip of her drink, she finishes it off. She crushed the empty cup in her hand and underhanded it into the trash can before grabbing a sanitization bucket and a rag, beginning to clean and wipe down tables.

It was a normal day. Or well, as normal as it could've been on the Showgrounds. The groups of people that hustled into Three's Coffee and Bombs dwindled to a low murmur, allowing a sense of peace to filter over the area.

Hexsy wiped down the recently cleared tables with a wet rag, the sleeves to her magenta jacket pushed up to her elbows, revealing the black gloves which left her pointer and thumb uncovered that extended to the joint.

Three smiled softly at the sight of her, the quiet atmosphere adding a feeling of comfort and intimacy. He leaned his body against the countertop where the coffee machine was propped up on, his head leaning on his gloved hand. “Nice job today, scrub. You handled those orders like a boss.” He teased, his amber eyes filled with a glint of mischief.

Hexsy perked up from wiping down the table, scoffing playfully before she rolled her heterochromatic eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I've only been working here for two weeks. I'm still so very clueless.” She sarcastically spoke, chuckling as the man shot her a glare with no fire behind it. “But seriously, it wasn't all that bad. Once you explained it to me, I got it down.”

The two looked at each other for a moment longer before breaking it, Three clearing his throat to attempt to hide the fact he was slightly red. “You're free to stay after hours, as usual. And I guess it's fine if you want to, like, chill out in my room.” He offered shyly, causing her to snicker.

“That sounds really nice, Three. I'll definitely consider it.” Hexsy smiled, her eyes filled with a glimmer of admiration. She moved to one of the booth tables, wiping it down before taking a moment to stare outside.

The sky was a beautiful tangerine color, the sun setting below the landscape. The glow casted over the café, illuminating the atmosphere and hitting her skin, making her feel warm. Figures outside laughed. She could spot Meggy and Tari hanging out, shooting targets with their splatguns. Her gaze moved to the right, spotting Mario and SMG4 play fighting. From her point of view, it looked like Mario was winning. By a landslide.

She chuckled, her ring light tail wagging lazily, a dimmed white casting over her shoulders and back. Her eyes drifted to the center of the horizon before she froze.

Behind Mario and SMG4, she could see a lanky figure, shifting between the form of fire and a solid. No. No, anybody but him. She felt her tail wrap around herself protectively, her heart beginning to pound.

The figure began to step forward, phasing through everybody. Almost like he didn't exist.

“No, you're not real.” She muttered, her eyebrows furrowing in doubt. She rubbed her eyes, standing up straight.

He didn't disappear.

She stepped back, feeling everything around her go dark, like it was only her and the figure.

She saw the SMPTE bars on the figure's face shift into a menacing and inhuman grin. At the glint of color, she felt a sharp and stabbing pain pierce behind her eye and across the entirety of the right side of her face.

“Ah, fuck!” She hissed, curling over herself and gripping her face, the skin pulsing from her heartbeat. Three instantly perked up, running over to her as he saw her ring light turn a bright red.

“Woah, woah! Hexsy, are you okay? What's going on?” He pressed his palm to her back, causing her to twist her head to face him. Her eyes were glazed over in pain, the pupils shrunken. He then noticed a glimpse of pink, raising an eyebrow.

As she watched his gaze shift, she quickly covered the forming scar, jumping up. “I, uh. I got something in my eye! Yeah! I'm gonna wash it with some water!” She quickly sprinted down the halls of the café, leaving Three behind. He felt something in his gut twist, like how this wasn't how it seemed.

She practically slammed the bathroom door behind her, turning to the mirror. She watched the pink scars crawl up her face like an infestation. She clenched the edges of the sink, her ring light going purple, signifying her fear.

“Dammit! No, this cannot be happening. I'm just… I'm stressed. That's why.” She tried to reason with herself, her shoulders sagged as she stared at her reflection.

The man with a television head wasn't back in her life. It was just an illusion. The mantra repeated in her head as the burning sensation of her scars dulled, her heartbeat calming to its normal pace as she breathed deeply.

It was just her. It was just her, her face, her body, her emotions. It was only her in the room. She was alone.

Until a gloved hand gripped her shoulder from the darkness, making the scars pulse and burn.

Her pupils shrunk, her teeth slammed tight against each other as she cried out in pain. It wasn't just her. He was in here with her, too.

“I wouldn't be so sure, my little star.” The man's voice was sickeningly sweet. It was radioactive and poisonous. It sent fear down her spine. Mr. Puzzles’s head emerged from the darkness, an expression of smugness, cockiness, disapproval, and a sadistic joy plastered on his screen.

“You. What are you doing here?” She spoke darkly, twisting around and pressing her body tightly into the countertop. “I did what you wanted. I fixed your lights and shit. We had a deal.” She pointed accusingly at him before he gently pressed the finger down.

“Now, now. Easy, my dear.” His fingers suddenly gripped tightly onto Hexsy's, making the bone pop. It felt like he was trying to tear it off before his grip loosened, his face inching closer to her. “We wouldn't want Three to find out about your little… scar issue, would we?”

At his words, the scars pulsed, feeling as if they were slowly being carved into her skin, making sure every drag was as painful as possible. She let out another cry, her eyes shut tightly as tears escaped from the ducts of her eyes.

“Or are you ready to reveal the truth? Reveal that the infection of perfection didn't disappear, but that you took the scars and made a deal with the monster that caused Three and the rest of the Crew to have to rebuild a whole new home? That caused Meggy to get hurt?” He mocked, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him.

She grunted, pushing him off before backing away from the counter. “Okay, okay! Fine! I just… What do you want from me?” She snarled, feeling the pain in her face lull to a dull ache.

He chuckled, standing up to his full height. “Oh, I didn’t come here with a desire. You think I forgot our little contract?” With a flick of his hand, a paper rolling out smoothly and revealing the bind of writing. The sight made Hexsy's breath catch in her throat.

“No, how could I forget?” She sarcastically asked, causing Mr. Puzzles to give her a dissatisfied look. “That paper haunts me in my dreams.” She shuddered, shaking her head in an attempt to remove the thoughts of those nightmares.

“Don't get smart with me.” Mr. Puzzles warned, his eyes narrowing. “You either answer yes or no. Is that clear?” She grumbled but didn't argue, crossing her arms. He quickly smiled again, brushing out his button-up. “Good.”

He cleared his throat, rolling the contract back up and making it disappear with a flick of his wrist. “Now, in your contract, there's a little detail in the writing. It says you work under me, no matter what unless the contract is null. And guess what? I still need you.” He smirked knowingly, the words making her stomach drop.

“You… what?” Hexsy stopped in the middle of her sentence, her ring light tail going straight in alarm. “What do you mean you need me still?” She asked with a slight tremble to her voice, feeling Mr. Puzzles suddenly grab her wrist in a bruising grip.

“Puzzlevision! It's my newest project! A site with beautiful movies after movies! I'll show my creative vision to the world! And people can rate them with stars!” His screen pressed to her face before he spun her around, making her face her reflection in the mirror.

His hand grabbed her chin in a crushing grip, causing her jaw to pop as she fearfully stared into her reflection. Her hands gripped the countertop tightly.

“And you're gonna be on lights, baby. You'll make the stars. You'll watch your friends be the talent, because you're Stage Crew.” He grinned maniacally as she whimpered, frozen in place from the fear of being hurt.

She tore his hands away from her, staring at the mirror as he easily moved like a waterfall. “I'll tell Three. I'll tell everyone to stay away from the television!” She warned, only to be met by a loud cackle.

“Oh, you'll tell them? That's hilarious!” He giggled in a high pitch before his voice dropped to a harsh warning. “Hexsy, don't you remember It’s Gotta Be Perfect?” He challenged, causing her to cover her ears.

“No, stop.” She pleaded, tucking her head into herself before he placed his screen directly to her ear. He twisted the top knob on the frame of his television, upping his volume so she would be forced to hear him.

“Pop quiz, Hex! Who sold SMG4 that eldritch keyboard?” He grinned maniacally, watching her expression switch to dread.

“Nobody, he found it on his own!” She pressed her hands tighter to her ears, trying to act like she couldn't hear him.

“Oh, so close! It was me.” At the wrong noise, her scars began to sting, causing her to hiss. “Who told SMG4 that it would make his work perfect?” He cooed in a sickly sweet tone, making her feel nauseous.

“Hal Monitor! He told Four how to make a good video while also keeping it legal!” She shouted, pressing her forehead to the cool counter of the sink.

“Wrong again, Hex! It was me!” He sadistically smirked, suddenly pressing his gloved fingers deep into the cut of the scars. She screamed, gripping the underside of the counter before his other hand clasped over her mouth.

“Next question! Who told Marty about the secret recipe in SMG3'S Sussy Notebook?” He lifted her head, tears flowing down her face. She couldn't answer, making Puzzles grab her chin and make her look like she was talking like she was a puppet.

“It was you, Mr. Puzzles!” He spoke in a high-pitched voice, mocking Hexsy's way of speech before acting like she said it, clapping. “Oh, that's correct! Congratulations!” He gave a mocking clap of encouragement before standing up straight, his hands behind his back.

“Last question, Hexsy! All for nothing! You better make this count!” He cheered enthusiastically, Hexsy's fists clenching against themselves. “Are you going to be able to monitor everyone not to use a device with a screen?” He asked darkly.

The realization struck her. He was telling her he'd find a way to get all of them. Television or not. She looked straight ahead at the mirror, her lips pressed into a snarl.

“Get out of my head.”

“What was that, my dear?”

“I said to get out of my head!”

Her fist punched the glass to the mirror, the material crackling loudly. A few pieces of glass crumbling on the floor. Her knuckles were scraped as she looked at the fragmented leftover from the punch.

The shattering point was slightly off center from the mirror, right about where she'd see her eyes in the mirror and to the right.

She breathed heavily, noticing the illusion of Puzzles was gone, only to quickly realize the way she punched the material made it look exactly like her scar, making her look broken. The injury stinged as she backed away from the mirror, collapsing into herself.

She gently began to sob, the color of red on her ring light tail showing her alarm as it wrapped around herself in a defensive gesture. Her eyes were rimmed with red as she pressed her back to the cabinet. Everything swirled around her into a vortex or confusion, fear, and a somber feeling.

After a few minutes of sitting in the dark, with her ring light being the only thing to cast light in the room, she heard a gentle knock on the bathroom door. She perked up from her knees, wiping her nose.

“The bathroom for patrons of Three's Coffee and Bombs is to the left. This bathroom is for faculty only.” She tiredly stated, sighing before she heard a familiar voice.

“Dude, it's me, SMG3? Are you doing okay? I heard the sound of something breaking.” He chuckled, putting his hands on his hips. She quickly perked up, untucking her knees from herself before pulling her hood over her head.

“Oh, T-Three!” She put her palms on the ground, clearing her throat as if to act like she wasn't just having a breakdown a few seconds ago. “Come in! The door is unlocked.”

After a second, the doorknob shifted before the door cracked open, revealing Three in all of his chubby and muscular glory. She smiled at the sight of him before it dropped slightly. The man closed the door behind him, going to sit down on the tile of the bathroom.

Three and Hexsy sat in silence for a moment before he spoke up. “I heard you screaming in here. Did you see a spider or something?” He lightly jokes, earning only a small chuckle from her.

“I saw that glimpse of pink earlier. You're not hiding it anymore.” He pointed out, causing her to gulp. “Hexsy, let me see what you're hiding.” He reached for her hood before she smacked his hand away.

"No! No, it's fine! You don't have to see anything!” She muttered nervously. Without enough time to react, Three yanked the hood off of her head and got a good view of the pink scars that climbed up her honey sand colored skin. She froze in place as she saw his eyes widen. Shit. He saw them. He was looking at them. The scars she so desperately tried to hide. Her breath quivered before she began to quietly sob.

“I'm sorry.” Was all she managed to choke out before she began to ramble and cry. “I'm a monster, you must think I'm hideous with these scars. I've been keeping secrets.” She babbles on and on, Three barely able to understand her before he reassuringly squeezes her hand.

“Woah, Hex. Chill out. Breathe.” He carefully instructed her, his years of being a therapist kicking in. His hand ran over her back soothingly, watching the light at the end of her ring light tail go a deep shade of blue.

“Do you wanna talk about them?” He offered, earning a firm no from her shaking her head. “Okay. That's fine. Do you want me to hold you?” He smiled in a caring manner, making Hexsy feel at peace for a moment.

“...yeah.” She managed to speak in a relatively normal voice. Her head moved down, allowing herself to fall victim to gravity as her head fell into his lap. Her jet black hair spread out into the surface, making her hair a mess.

Three gently ran his hand through her hair, chuckling softly as she hummed into his stomach, sending vibrations up his spine. His other hand pulled her close, curling her into him for more comfort.

“I'm not mad at you for having scars. They tell a story. They tell of your creation. Just because you took them doesn't mean you're a monster. You're a survivor.” He saw her quietly tilt her head up, her eyes brimmed with tears. The words had hit her right in the heart.

She moved herself to sit on his lap, the weight distribution making him grunt for a moment before she rested her knees along his sides, her legs sprawled out. Her head rested on his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his waist. Her ring light tail turned back to its neutral state of white before it tinted to a light yellow, signifying she was content in his arms.

Three let the two stay in the comfortable silence for a few minutes before bringing the fist she used to punch the mirror towards him, kissing the hand gently before raising the two of them to stand.

“How about we get you cleaned up?” He offered, leading the two of them out of the bathroom and into the main area of the café, grabbing the first aid kit and sitting her on the counter.

He took off her glove to her left hand, cleaning up the wound before wrapping gauze around the palm and the back of her hand. Once he was done, he offered her the glove back, which she happily accepted and slipped on.

“Next time, maybe don't punch the mirror.” He teased, causing her to laugh.

“No promises.”

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