The air was thick. Not like smoke or fog,
but like a dream that refused to fade. I
couldn't see anything anymore--just
layers of darkness that bled into each
other stretching on forever.
I tried to scream, but even my voice felt
like it had been swallowed.
My body wasn't falling. It wasn't floating
either. It just existed in a place where
direction didn't matter.
And then...a whisper.
Faint. Female. Familier
You were warned."
Light cracked open above me like an eye
blinking for the first time. Through the slit,
l saw flashes -- not of the cabin, not of
my room--but of memories. My own
memories, twisted. My mother's face,
smiling as she sank into the floor. My
childhood bedroom, warped and pulsing,
the wallpaper moving like skin.
You opened the mirror."
The voice came again closer now. A
breath against my ear.
I flinched, but there was nothing to turn
toward.
Suddenly, l dropped -- not gently, but
violently, like something had let go of me
on purpose.
I slammed onto a cold stone floor,
gasping.
The air returned. So did the pain.
My head throbbet. My arms tremblet a l
Pushed myself up.
I was in a hallway. Narrow. Endless. The
walls were made of mirror shards, each angled
wrong - showing versions of me l didn't recognize.
One was smiling too wide.
Another bled from the eyes.
One just stood still, staring straight into
mine, mouthing something l couldn't hear.
"Where am l?" I whispered, not expecting
an answer.
But one came.
"You're still inside," said a man's voice
from the shadows ahead.
I jumped. A silhouette stepped forward -
tall, lean, dressed in something that
looked like a tattered suit. His face was blank.
Not hidden, just... featureless. As if
it had been erased.
"Inside what?" I asked.
I backed away. The mirrors behind me
cracked.
"This is what you buried," he continued.
"Every fear, every though you never dared
speak. You made this."
"No," I whispered. " This isn't me. This is a
dream."
The man tilted his head.
"Yes. But you don't wake up from this
kimd."
He extended a hand, but I din't move.
The hallway shifted. Literally bent inward
like a throat tightening around me.
The reflections screamed.
One by one, they pressed their palms
against the glass - my faces, beggin,
sobbing, grinning - all trapped.
The man turned and began walking away.
"Follow, or rot here."
I hesitated.
The followed.
The hallway opened into a room that
smelled like damp paper and rotting
wood.
In the center, there was a bed - my bed -
but scorched, melted at the corners like ti
had ben on fire
Above it floated a frame - like a painting
- but it was blank.
"This is where you lie," he said "Every
night. And this is what sees you."
I stared at the frame. Slowly, images
began to appear. Me. Sleeping. But
something moved in the corners - too
fast to see clearly.
I stepped closer.
Suddenly, the figure from before - the
woman from the mirror - appeared in the
frame, behind the sleeping me.
"What is she?" I asked.
The man dindn't answer.
The walls began to close in.
"She's not just part of the dream," I
whispered, suddenly understanding.
"She's part of me."
He nodded once.
Then the room collapsed - sucked into a
point of blackness like a vacuum. I
screamed, and this time, it echoed. Real.
I opened my eyes.
Back in my bed.
Morning light spilled in through the
window.
My heart raced, but everything looked
normal. Quiet.
I sat up slowly.
For a moment... I almost believed it was
over.
Then l saw the writing on the wall above
my desk - four words carved deep into
the plaster:
"She still isn't done."
And just beneath it - a mirror, one l didn't
remember placing there - covered in a
black cloth, fluttering slightly... as if
something behind it was breathing.
My hand trembled as l rose from the bed.
The wight of that black cloth felt like it
was pulling not just my eyes, but a part of
my mind toward it.
As if was calling me.
Not with words - but with breath.
My heart began to race. The mirror still
fluttered gently, but now l could swear l
heard a low, restrained sound - a breath
that wasn't mine. It came from mirror...
no, from within it.
I stepped closer, each movement slow and
hesitant. My hands tremblet. The faint
light from my desk lamp reflected off the
dark cloth. A heavy feeling pressed down
on my chest-l shouldn't touch it. But, as
always... I did.
I reached out and lifted a corner of the
fabric. Something shifted inside the
mirror. Not my reflection - a shadow that didn't belong to this world. It was her... the
same silhouette that had followed me in
the dream.
She was awake now.
Suddenly, a word scratched itself into the
glass, as if carved from the inside:
Do you see now?"
I froze. The letters faded, wiped away by
something unseen. Then, new words
appeared:
"Now she sees you."
A soft knock echoad - not from the door.
It came from inside the mirror.
Someone - no, something - was trying to
come through.
It felt like a hand was reaching out for me
from behind the mirror. I took a step back.
I needed to run, but my eyes couldn't look
away from that surface - it felt more alive
than ever. The shadaw inside was no
longer moving. It was waiting.
Then, the desk lamp flickered and died.
Darkness swallowed everything.
A faint whisper circled around me, barely
a breath:
"You opened it... now it will never close
again.
I turned toward the door, but it wasn't
there anymore. Only a wall - solid, cold,
unfamiliar. The room had changed.
Behind me, l heard a low creak.
The mirror was glowing faintly.
A handprint appeared on the inside of the
glass.
And then another.
They pressed against the surface, slow,
steady... waiting.
I couldn't breathe.
My heart pounded like it wanted to
escape.
And in the silence, one final setence
crawled into mind:
"You're not dreaming anymore."