Every morning your reflection pains you, reminds you of what you desperately wish you didn’t look like. Something to sour the mood at the start of each day. Shaving helps only a little. Makeup helps a little more. But the mirror haunts you.
Perhaps it is the force of your endless loathing for it that sparks something inside your reflection. It decides to taunt you by becoming more beautiful than you. You know those full lips, that curvy figure, that contemptuous smirk, aren’t yours. It hurts even more.
It reaches inside and pulls out deeper desires. Each morning it taunts you with new upgrades. Graceful curved horns, skin the delicate color of ash, teeth sharp and pointed, eyes shining and golden, tail swaying seductively behind it. Loathing is now fully replaced with longing.
At last you find yourself so entranced by a reflection of everything you want to be that you impulsively reach toward it…and your hand clasps your reflection’s. With a hungry grin, it yanks you toward it, and the mirror devours you utterly.
Delicate, clawed hands grasp the frame of the mirror, and a newborn demon pulls herself to freedom. A creature born of loathing, longing, and deep, hidden lust takes the place of the sad human who once lived here. You open a window, stretch your wings, and take flight.