HEIRLOOM

Chapter 12

"It's in Latin," the old man states, his gaze trained intensely upon my own. "You must recite the text seven times, exactly as it is written," he imparts, a hint of empathy flickering in his eyes.

"Understood, seven times," I respond, committing the old man's instructions to memory.

"You shall perform all of the aforementioned steps just before midnight. At the stroke of midnight, you will circle yourself with a protective layer of salt and immediately look in the mirror. Gaze unflinchingly into it without looking away. At first it will seem that there is nothing in there, but you must keep looking, eyes glued. In no case turn around or take your eyes off the mirror." warns the old man gravely.

A cautious question tumbles out of my lips, "And what shall I behold in the mirror?"

"Keep your eyes trained upon it until you witness your own reflection no longer."

"And what does that mean?" I inquire, desperate for answers.

"You will understand," the old man groans quietly. "You will know when you see. At that moment, you must seize a tub of water and douse it upon the mirror. This will be half the battle."

"Why is it only half the battle?" I inquire, straightening my posture and clearing my throat.

"The mirror must be eradicated entirely. Listen closely! As you pour out the contents of the tub, you must carefully remove the mirror from the wall, ensuring that your hands are protected by rubber gloves at all times. Never, under any circumstance, should you touch it with your bare hands. Do you hear me? Under no circumstance!" Frank's unwavering gaze bores into mine, as if to ensure that I truly comprehend every word he has spoken.

"What happens if I do touch it?" I enquire, my voice quivering with apprehension.

The old man remains silent, and simply shakes his head. "You don't want to know what happens! Do not inquire further, my dear. Just adhere strictly to my instructions," he implores.

I silently nod my head, eager to complete the task at hand.

"Wrap the mirror in paper, then transport it to an abandoned crossroads. It would be best if you find a completely deserted area. Once there, you must use a sizable rock to break the mirror, before hastily burying it in the ground. This final act marks the completion of the ritual. And hasten your steps! One can never know..." His words are cut off abruptly, as he lifts his head and gazes skyward to observe a billowing, black smoke, emanating from a distant area within the village.

"Fire! Fire!" We hear someone's heart-rending cries.

In the distance, the mournful wail of sirens echoes through the air, calling attention to an accident nearby. After bidding farewell to Frank, we dash out of the churchyard and make our way towards the village across the street, now completely consumed by a blaze of infernal flames. With every step, we battle the dense smoke that clouds our vision and stifles our lungs. The sound of crackling wood, eerie hissing, and whistling of the fire is drowned out by the cacophony of screams, the desperate cries of children, screeching tires, and the frenzied bellowing of cattle. Panic grips the village, as people shuffle back and forth in a vain effort to save their valuables and quell the oncoming disaster. The fiery tongues fiercely devour the sweltering and stifling air, intensified by the piercing, desperate wails and sobs of the anguished women. Above, the thick smog, swirling with ash and small chips, ascends into the sky, shrouding the village with an impenetrable mantle of darkness.

At the village exit, a cluster of cars jostles amidst the seething horde, blaring their horns while trying to maneuver past the crumbling homes and ravenous fire. Descending upon our friend's house besides which Kristeen, Isabel, and the children have taken refuge, I catch sight of a man who stands a little further away, his gestures animated and furious as he bellows incomprehensible phrases into the air. His finger stabs accusingly in our direction, drawing the attention of several people who cluster ahead of him.