The Love of Lady Dimitrescu X Female Reader || One-Shots

The Woman in the Mirror

Sitting cross-legged on the floor of the dance studio, you kept reading your book while keeping one eye on the glass mirror wall in front of you. Behind you, there were a couple of yoga balls and workout equipment. This room was the newest addition to Castle Dimitrescu.

Your aunt had a love for both historic and modern architectural styles. Being an architect herself, she fell in love with this 15th century castle as soon as she laid eyes on it. Since it had been abandoned, she endeavored to restore Castle Dimitrescu and make it her home.

Of course, you were all too thrilled to be invited to stay with your favorite aunt during the fall season. You just had finished your summer job back in the city and believed it would be a refreshing break to spend more time with family. It wasn't often you'd get the chance to enjoy the luxury of living in a castle, and not just any castle. It was this one, which held dark secrets within its walls.

Your aunt had shed light on some of its dark history. Like how there was a countess who killed innocents and consumed their blood. There was even an old and ominous dungeon you explored with your flashlight the night before. It was still lined with torture instruments and shackles lying around on musty barrels.

This was the year 2050. The entire place was ancient. And perhaps that was the greatest appeal to you: You could escape from your current age of fast technology and dwell within this fortified structure of a bygone time.

Aside from staying in this dreamy castle with your aunt, spending your time catching up on your reading list, dancing in the studio, or sketching the different rooms in Castle Dimitrescu, there was an eeriness to it. A lingering feeling that you were being watched at certain times of the day, especially late at night. For instance, you heard the tip-tap of hurried footsteps outside your bedroom door. Every time you got up to investigate the noise, nobody was there. Unless your ears were deceiving you, you also swore you heard soft giggles, sounding nothing like your aunt. Besides, she was someone who abided by the rule of being in bed by quarter to nine. The footsteps always occurred past ten.

Other times, you'd find your stuff moved around in your room. Such as your phone lying face down instead of up, or an opened book you were reading was closed. It was little things like this that unsettled you. You were certain your aunt would never mess with your belongings, just like you'd never mess with hers. The both of you shared a deep bond and a respect for each other's privacy. She was no nosy family member who'd touch your personal possessions behind your back.

The greatest peculiarity was the mirror. Your eyes darted to it quickly. Occasionally, you thought you'd catch sight of a pair of yellow eyes staring at you, or at least you may have imagined it. This studio was your favorite area in the castle, you didn't want to leave it just because you had a weird feeling about it. No one else besides you spent time in this room, so why did it feel like there was another presence here with you?

Continually fixing your eyes on the mirror, you saw nothing but your reflection. If you looked at it long enough, you wondered if anything would happen. Shaking your head, you realized how silly that was. Thus, you directed your attention to the pages of your book again.

For an hour more, you read in peace before your belly growled. You sighed and set it down, questioning if it was your turn or your aunt's to cook dinner tonight. Either way, you got up and started heading for the kitchen.

Suddenly, you stopped when you heard your book close from behind you. Fear fluttered in your stomach, making you forget how hungry you were. Slowly, you turned around and, in the mirror, you could clearly see a tall figure of a woman holding your book in her hands.

This woman had ghostly white skin from the looks of it, and she wore this long, white dress with a black flower on the left side of it. The oddest part was the wide-brimmed black hat on her head. Too dumbfounded to speak or move, you convinced yourself you were indeed seeing things that weren't there. You blinked and rubbed your eyes hard, knowing you'd only see your reflection once you opened them.