The Vanity

Wei backed up slowly. "Let her go."

"Why?" The entity dropped the brush. It walked toward him, swaying with a grace that was unnatural. "She invited me in. She wanted to be beautiful forever. I am giving her exactly what she asked for. Eternal youth. Eternal perfection."

"You're eating her," Wei said.

"I am preserving her. Like you preserve your pots." The entity stopped. It reached up and touched Mei’s cheek. "This skin is exquisite. So much potential. But it was so full of holes. Insecurity. Fear. Regret. I filled them up."

It looked at Wei. The smile faltered.

"And you," it sneered. "You are the stain. The one flaw in her history."

"I know what I am," Wei said. He reached into his pocket, gripping the spool of red thread.

"Do you?" The entity tilted its head. "I can fix you, Wei."

Wei paused. "What?"

"I have power," the entity whispered. "I can smooth the skin. I can grow the ear back. I can make you whole again. You could be the man she fell in love with. The handsome chemist. You could be together. Perfect. Both of you."

It was the cruelest temptation. To be normal. To walk down the street without a mask. To look in a mirror without flinching.

Wei looked at his reflection in the dark window. The hood. The mask. The monster.

Then he looked at the mirror behind the entity. He saw the real Mei. She wasn't looking at his potential beauty. She was looking at *him*. She was mouthing his name.

She had touched his scar. She hadn't run away.

"I don't want to be perfect," Wei said softly. "I want to be real."

He pulled the red thread taut between his hands.

"And you," Wei snarled, "are a cheap forgery."

He lunged.