Something Wicked This Way Comes

“Cheats; they stand, they walk, they BREATH among the living, pretending to life themselves, them that should have died in their first lives. I’ve shown myself to them, and they fall silent, they run, they stumble as they last conscious spark leaves their ever decaying bodies and returns to be renewed.” The shadowed figure hunches its shoulders against a none existent chill beneath the thick cloak, only the barest hint of a human form readable beneath the heavy folds.

The guard, offering a passive glance through the one-way mirror that served as door and lock to the room, shakes his head and settles back into his seat, his eyes flitting between his charge and the broadsheet, his only connection with the outside world from this spirit’s mirrored prison. The three layers of mirror between him and the outside disturbed him; his first trip to the Cell, he had brought nothing save mirrored glasses and his weapons. Eight hours latter, he thought he would go mad, with nothing but himself and IT sharing the closing limits of his universe. Since then, he had made sure to carry some totem that would occupy his attention till his duty shift was over.

It rustles again, and his eyes leave the page; it stares at him, empty hood pressed up against the mirrored glass, mist-like features approximating a nose, a mouth... cobalt blue eyes hang from nothing as hairlike tendrils of dusty blond swirl limply around an imagined brow-line. Swallowing back a startled yelp, he raps the mirror and the illusion dispels, leaving only the blue-green orbs of foxfires nested deep in the hood. “Cheat...” the word seems to sink to the floor and settle along with the others, like so many dead leaves.

Groaning, the guard turns his head to the mirrored ceiling. The tallest of the group, a golden eyed individual over seven feet tall stares down, contempt written across ivory features. Weakened, he tries to prop himself up on an elbow, but the giant casually kicks the arm from under him, causing his head to crack painfully against the inches of mirrored glass comprising the floor of the Cell. “Idiot,” it growls before turning to the center, it’s brushed uniform in perfect order. Two of its hulking counterparts bend and pull the hapless sentry to his feet, head lulling, eyes blurred. “Thank what ever gods you serve it didn’t get out again, fool.” Focus returns slowly, but the guard begins to make out the shadowed form against the bright back drop reflected to infinity in the walls. “There are many spirits of death, but few take the malicious pride in their work that this one does; nor do most forewarn the condemned with such sadistic intent. Had you seen more then a shadow of your likeness, you would have been dead hours ago.” Hard eyes turn back on the guard and he cowers beneath the predatory contemplation of the commanding officer, the alien nature of the almost human face disconcerting him still further.

Stuttering, the man tries to whisper his thanks, but the strong voice of the officer cuts off his words. “Death chose you, human,” a feline smile curls the lips of the officer, “Best not to let it wait to long to claim you.”

In one of the tall, glassy buildings that house those who decide and safeguard the futures of the Nightside, a hand waved through air that smelled of expensive cigars and brandy. Sitting back in his deep chair, a man frowned over his steepeled hands.
"Yes, the Beltane street vat is indeed full."
"Very good." said another voice, smooth and rich as tainted cream. "We had begun to run low. And we'll need a new guard."
The man's frown deepened. "You shouldn't have killed the last one."
A long hand waved languorously. "Humans die. It is what you do."
"Perhaps," the man said cooly, "But it's rather difficult to encourage alliances when you make a habit of killing your allies. Bad for the reputation."
When the voice comes through the wreathing smoke, there is a trace of laughter in it. "And reputation is so very important to you, little king-that-would be. So very important. Best hope they never learn who you've allied with. It would be quite harmful for your...reputation. Quite harmful indeed."
There was a snort. "The goose-footed idiots can be easily dealt with. Any of a number of bounty hunters will happily deal with them, when the time comes."
"They were not who I was speaking of." The words came soft. "Don't try your luck, human. It may have less strength than you think."