Holli Would: Dreams in Neon Silk by Jade Gretz

https://www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai/art/Holli-Would-Dreams-in-Neon-Silk-1258992962

Holli Would: Dreams in Neon Silk ANIMATION

The Mirror Masquerade

Holli Would always adored seeing herself—every curve, every glimmer of animated gloss, every impossible angle of glamour carved by the neon physics of Cool World. Mirrors loved her too. They bent light to flatter her, polished shadows to cradle her silhouette, and hummed subtly whenever she sashayed near. She trusted mirrors. Why shouldn’t she? They’d never lied before.

Until they did.

It began in the Somna District—a realm draped in velvet hues and whispering confetti, where night perpetually stretched across caramel skies thick with floating marquees. Holli was attending her nightly tradition of admiration: soaking in the admiration of others admiring her. She stood before a towering, candy-gold mirror framed with swirling cherubs who blinked occasionally, murmuring compliments.

“Darling, you sparkle like a dream dipped in moonlight,” whispered one cherub.

“You’re a vision that visions dream about,” sighed another.

Holli smirked and cocked her hip. “Oh, I know. But keep going. I’ve had a long day.”

But tonight, something about the reflection felt… off. It was subtle at first—an extra second of lag between Holli’s pose and the mirror’s response. A tiny flicker of her eyes, as though her reflection was choosing where to look rather than simply mimicking.

Holli blinked. Her reflection didn’t.

She froze. The reflection smiled.

A slow, feline, knowing smile.

“Well now,” the reflection purred, its voice somehow audible—muffled, as though underwater, but unmistakably hers. “Finally noticed me, sweet thing?”

Holli stumbled back. “Mirrors don’t talk,” she said, her voice sharp, pointed, as if she could pierce through this strange moment by sheer will.

The reflection shrugged, a fluid gesture like ink sloshing inside glass. “They don’t. I do.”

Then the lights flickered. The cherubs whimpered. The mirror rippled.

And the reflection stepped forward.

Not out of the mirror—not yet. But forward enough that Holli felt the air shift, as though something on the other side inhaled deeply.

“I’ve been watching you,” the reflection said. “Watching your strut, your little schemes, your climb to the throne of Cool World. And I’ve decided…”

A pause, electric as a struck match.

“You don’t deserve to be alone in that spotlight anymore.”

Holli, though rattled, slid back into her confidence like a glove. “Listen, dollface. There’s only one Holli Would. And last I checked, she isn’t trapped behind glass.”

The reflection chuckled. It was a lovely sound—yet wrong. Too low. Too hungry.

“Oh, I’m not trapped,” it said. “I’m preparing. And soon, sweetheart… oh so very soon… I’ll walk free. And when I do, I’ll be queen.”

Holli bristled. “I’m already queen.”

“You’re the placeholder.”

Holli threw her hair behind her shoulder. “You’re glitching, baby. Maybe the glass is dirty.”

“No,” said the reflection. “You are.”

The mirror went black—pitch, infinite, eating away her likeness until only her eyes remained. Two blue flames floating in void.

“Meet me again,” the eyes whispered. “If you dare.”

Then the mirror snapped back to ordinary. Her normal reflection returned, smiling innocently.

But Holli no longer smiled.

Cool World wasn’t known for stability—it was a place where the wind carried gossip in bubble letters, where buildings sprouted legs and changed neighborhoods out of boredom, where villains rose and fell depending on how dramatic they felt that day. But never—not once—had a reflection rebelled.

Not even hers.

Holli sought out the one toon who knew more about weirdness than any other: Nails, the cigar-chomping spider with eight arms and the paranoia of a dozen conspiracy theorists.

Nails lived inside an abandoned novelty factory, stuffing files into color-coded webs and swearing at shadows.

He looked up as Holli entered. “Sweet sassafras, Holli—something’s wrong, ain’t it? Your outline’s flickering. And not in the cute way.”

“Nails,” Holli said, leaning forward, letting her voice slip into a silky purr. “I need information.”

Nails gulped. “About…?”

“Mirrors.”

He hissed. “Mirrors? Don’t tell me—did one move on its own?”

“More than that.” Holli’s lips tightened. “It spoke.”

Nails spat his cigar. “Oh no. Oh nononono. That’s Mirrorborn business. Ho
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