He stood in a version of his apartment—but decayed. Everything was darker, older. The walls cracked like aged skin. Shadows moved without light.
"Hello?"
Footsteps echoed, though he stood alone.
On the far wall, he saw a mirror—intact.
And inside it, not his reflection—but Ethan. The man was gaunt, pale, eyes sunken like he hadn't slept in years.
"You followed the knocks," Ethan whispered, his voice a dry wind. "Now you can't leave."
"What is this place?"
"A memory. A curse. A truth. Choose one."
The lights flickered.
Then Ethan screamed, face twisted, dragged away by black hands from inside the mirror.
And the glass began to crack.