The Midnight Bargain
There are many deals one can make in 4EverMore, but none are as dangerous as the ones made at The Mirror House.
It is said to stand at the edge of the Red City, its doors appearing only to those who have something to offer—and something to lose. The house is never in the same place twice, shifting like a dream, reflecting only the souls who dare to knock.
One such soul was Evander Sinclair. A man of wit, charm, and a debt that no amount of gold could erase.
The debt was simple: his life.
And the collector? A vampire older than empires, known only as The Crimson Prince.
Evander, being no fool, sought out The Mirror House on the eve of the Blood Moon, when bargains carried weight and the veil between truth and illusion was perilously thin.
He found it waiting for him at the end of a street that had not existed the day before, its windows glowing like captured starlight. The moment he stepped inside, the air thickened—perfumed with something sweet, something sharp, something dangerous.
A single chair sat in the center of the grand, empty hall. And in it… the Crimson Prince himself.
"Ah, Evander," the vampire purred, swirling a goblet of wine—or was it blood?—between his fingers. "Come to renegotiate your fate?"
Evander straightened his cuffs, masking his terror with a smirk. "I hear you enjoy a good wager."
The Prince’s smile was slow, amused. "Indeed."
Evander leaned in. "Then let's play."
A single game. One hand of cards. If Evander won, his debt would be erased. If he lost…
Well.
The Crimson Prince never lost.
The game began, the cards slipping between their fingers like whispered sins. The candlelight flickered. The air held its breath.
And when the final card was placed…
A silence fell so deep it swallowed the sound of Evander’s heartbeat.
The Prince studied the cards, then Evander.
Then… he laughed.
It was a rich, knowing sound, as if he had seen this outcome a thousand times before. "Clever," he mused. "But not clever enough."
Evander's smirk faltered. "I—"
"You did win, my dear boy. But did you truly think I would let you leave?"
The goblet tipped. A single drop of red fell onto the cards, and the room shifted.
The chair was empty. The candlelight dimmed. And Evander Sinclair… was nowhere to be found.
The Mirror House vanished before dawn, as it always did.
And if you ever wander the streets of the Red City and hear laughter from a doorway that wasn't there before—
Do not step inside.
For the Crimson Prince still plays.
And his favorite game… is waiting.
🩸🍷
