Don’t Play This Game: Event 8: Message In The Mirror
This morning, still shaking off sleep, I stumbled through my routine.
Shower. Brush teeth. Wipe the mirror clear.
And there it was.
Scrawled in uneven, hateful strokes through the mist, words that hadn’t been there before:
YOU STARTED THIS.
No signature. No explanation.
Just accusation.
It stared back at me from the fog like it had been waiting.
For a long moment, I just stood there, toothbrush dangling in my hand, heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my ears.
But then my survival instincts kicked in.
I scrubbed it away. Hard. Furious. Desperate.
Not because I was afraid of the message.
Because I couldn’t let Layla see it.
I’ve kept all of this hidden from her. Shielded her from every crack and ripple. From the stranger at the door, from the black car, from the whispers through the walls.
But it’s getting harder.
The Entity is getting bolder.
And the walls are getting thinner.
I needed air. I needed noise. People. Reality.
I wandered the town again. Let the chill in the air bite at me, let the normalcy of passing strangers wash over the fraying edges.
It helped. A little.
Until I caught my reflection in a darkened shop window.
And there, just over my shoulder, a smear of shadow stood where no person should have been.
I turned.
Nothing.
Of course.
When I got home, it had escalated.
Lipstick across the bathroom mirror.
Mud on the hallway mirror.
Something that looked disturbingly like blood smeared across the microwave door.
And the message?
Louder. Angrier. Everywhere.
YOU STARTED THIS.
YOU STARTED THIS.
YOU STARTED THIS.
I cleaned it all before Layla could come home.
Scrubbed so hard my knuckles split.
But I can still see it—burned into the surfaces. Into the house. Into me.
The Entity doesn’t just want me scared.
It wants me guilty.
And maybe… maybe it’s working.
DON'T PLAY THIS GAME is a Solo TTRPG
