At exactly 2:17 a.m., Aarav's phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: Don't turn around.
Aarav frowned. He was alone in his room, lights off, rain tapping softly on the window. Probably a prank. He typed back:
Aarav: Who is this?
The reply came instantly.
Unknown Number: I'm standing behind you.
A chill crawled up his spine. His heart started racing, but he laughed it off. He slowly turned around.
Nothing.
Just his wardrobe. Closed. Silent.
He exhaled. "Stupid," he muttered.
His phone buzzed again.
Unknown Number: Why did you look? I told you not to.
Now his mouth went dry.
Aarav: This isn't funny.
Three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then the message arrived.
Unknown Number: You couldn't see me because I was still in the mirror.
Aarav's eyes drifted—against his will—toward the mirror on the wall.
At first, it reflected the room exactly as it was.
Then… the reflection smiled.
Aarav hadn't.
In the mirror, his reflection slowly raised its hand and waved.
His phone buzzed one last time.
Unknown Number: I'm done waiting.
The bedroom door creaked open.
But the mirror??
The mirror was empty.
And Aarav was never seen again—
except sometimes, late at night, when people swear they see someone inside mirrors, typing furiously on a phone, trying to warn the next person.
Don't turn around.