The old house
on the hill had
always been a
source of
whispers and
dread.
Locals told
tales of
shadows moving
behind the
cracked
windows, long
after the
inhabitants
disappeared.
One stormy
night, a
curious girl
named Anna
dared to
venture inside,
drawn by a
flickering
light.
As she creaked
open the rusted
door, a chill
snaked down her
spine, and she
called out,
"Hello?" There
was no answer,
just the echo
of her own
voice swallowed
by the
suffocating
darkness.
In the corner
of the dimly
lit room, she
spotted an
antique mirror,
its surface
chillingly
reflective.
As she
approached, the
glass began to
swirl like
smoke,
revealing a
face twisted in
agony.
Screams tore
from her lips
as the
reflection
reached out,
fingers
grasping
desperately.
Panicked, Anna
stumbled
backward, but
the mirror was
no longer just
a surface; it
was a portal.
The face
smiled
sinisterly,
pulling her
toward its grim
world as
reality slipped
away.
In the
village, her
absence was
soon forgotten,
yet the
whispers of the
house grew
louder.
And on stormy
nights, if one
listened
closely, they
could hear her
voice calling
from beyond.
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