The Mirror man:Episode One --The Date with Despair
Diary Entry - Roman Vitaly
It begins again. Every century, every lifetime, the curse finds me. They call it a gift. I call it a chain forged by divinity itself. I should be dead. I should have crumbled into dust like all those I've loved, all those who've lived and died under the sun that I barely see anymore. But no. I am eternal, and with that eternity comes a mission I never asked for-a duty to hunt demons, to cast them back into the shadows, to wield the mirror that reflects their true forms and shatters their existence.
I remember the day I became what I am. It was not a light-filled epiphany or a moment of divine glory. It was despair. I had begged the Almighty for release, for death, for peace. But I was shown the reflection of my own failure, of humanity's vulnerability, and cursed instead. A mirror was placed in my hand-not silver, not polished like a human vanity, but dark, as though it drank the light around it. A mirror that revealed the monstrous truth behind every smiling face, every shadow, every whispered prayer.
I was eighteen, mortal then, full of pride and impatience. Now, centuries later, I am Roman Vitaly-the Mirror Man. I walk unseen in the crowded streets of every age, erasing horrors the world refuses to acknowledge. And I tire of it. Eternity is long, but the loneliness is longer.
The 21st century, and I thought I could hide. Fade into obscurity. Become a ghost among ghosts. But the universe has other plans.
It was a Tuesday-grey skies, rain slicking the streets, the smell of wet asphalt mixing with the smoke from neon signs. I had taken refuge in a small, crumbling apartment in the outskirts of Chicago. The mirror lay hidden beneath floorboards, wrapped in velvet, as I had done countless times before. I had no intention of seeing anyone, much less involving myself in the mortal coil that had grown increasingly shallow over the centuries.
Then she appeared.
Sarah Surghill.
Her name would have meant nothing to me in another time, another place. But the way she walked-purposeful, cautious, yet determined-set something uneasy in my bones. She was a detective, though I did not know this at first. What I did know was that she carried herself like she was chasing shadows in her own life, even before the ones I had spent centuries fighting crossed her path.
I felt it before I saw her. A pull, subtle but inexorable, like the tide dragging at your feet when you thought you could stand. A vision-a ripple of premonition-revealed her to me: standing in an alley, staring at something invisible, muttering words that should not be humanly spoken, eyes wide with both fear and clarity.
I tried to run. Spells of invisibility, shadow-walking, a dozen wards I had woven through the years to make myself untouchable. I cursed the stars for granting her inevitability. Every step I took, she was there. Every door I closed, she entered. Every alley I vanished into, she appeared.
It was uncanny, almost infuriating.
By the time she spoke, I had resigned myself to confrontation. "Roman Vitaly?" Her voice was calm but penetrating, the kind that sees through pretense. "I've been looking for you."
I smiled, a faint, bitter curl of my lips. "Looking for a ghost, detective?" My voice carried the weight of centuries. She did not flinch.
"Not a ghost," she said. "A man. A man who can help me stop something... something I don't fully understand yet."
And there it was. The trap. Fate's hand reaching into my hiding place. I should have run, disappeared into the folds of time like I always do. But something about her-not just the vision, not just the resolve-made me hesitate. Perhaps it was arrogance. Perhaps it was curiosity. Or perhaps, after centuries, I was tired of solitude.
I revealed myself then. Just a shadow at first, forming into shape-the reflection of a man who had seen the end of empires, the death of countless innocents, and had survived to tell the tale. My hair was still dark, my eyes still piercing, but my face bore lines not of age-mortals age, I do not-but of the burden of knowledge no human should carry.
She stepped closer. "I know what you are," she whispered, and for a moment, I laughed.
"You know what I am?" I asked, leaning against the cracked brick wall. The rain ran down my coat, but I felt nothing. Centuries have taught me how to endure everything-pain, hunger, loneliness-but not the fascination of someone who sees past the mirror without fear.
"Yes," she said. "And I need you. I've... seen things. Demons. Disguised as humans, walking among us. They've... hurt people. And I think..." Her eyes widened. "I think you're the only one who can stop them."
A sigh escaped me. For years, I had avoided this, had hidden, had cursed my mission silently in empty rooms and forgotten towns. And now, fate had thrown her in my path-an unrelenting reminder that my life was not my own.
"You don't know what you're asking," I said. "This isn't heroism, detective. This is... eternal damnation. A life without rest, without peace. You think you're brave, but you have no idea what you're stepping into."
Her gaze did not waver. If anything, it hardened. And that... unnerved me. Humans rarely have such courage. Rarely have humans ever survived long enough to see what she saw.
"You'll teach me," she said simply. "I won't be scared. I... I want to help."
The mirror in my possession throbbed as if it recognized the moment-the arrival of someone who could see both my burden and the world I fought to protect. I knew I should vanish, should send her away before curiosity turned to obsession. And yet, I did not.
I led her inside, my apartment dim and filled with relics I had gathered over lifetimes-tomes of incantations, talismans, ashes of creatures long dead, and journals chronicling every encounter, every battle, every regret. She glanced around, eyes wide, but unafraid.
"You're... real," she said, almost in awe. "All of this... it's real."
"I am," I said. "And if you truly wish to survive, you will need to understand one thing: demons are patient. They hide in the guise of everyday life. They thrive on human weakness. And they will come for you, once they know you've found me."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Then I'll be ready."
A laugh escaped me then, a bitter, dry sound. "You're not ready. You never will be. But that... that might be part of the charm."
The first storm had passed, but another was brewing-one that would change both our lives forever. I did not know if she would survive what was coming, or if I could continue hiding. I only knew that the mirror reflected truth, and truth has a way of catching up, no matter how far you run.
I write this now, not knowing if I will live to write the next entry. Perhaps I will. Perhaps centuries from now, someone will read this diary and wonder about the man cursed to live, to fight, to bear the eternal weight of humanity's shadows.
My name is Roman Vitaly. I am The Mirror Man. And this... is only the beginning.
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Episode Summary:
Introduces Roman Vitaly and his curse.
Sets up his supernatural abilities and eternal life.
Introduces Sarah Surghill as the persistent human who finds him.
Ends on suspense, signaling the start of their joint journey.
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