Story 1103: The Revenant’s Smile

The town of Greymarrow was a place Evelyn Blackmoor had once visited in childhood—a decaying cluster of stone buildings where whispers outlived memories. Its streets were cobbled with moss and dust, and its windows watched like old, blind eyes. But she had not returned for nostalgia. She came seeking the smiling man in the mirror.

Local legend named him Lord Hargrave, once a nobleman, now something else—something that grinned through reflections and fed on vanity and sorrow. His manor, long abandoned, had been the source of increasing disappearances. And each victim was found with one trait in common: their faces frozen in grotesque, toothy smiles, mouths split impossibly wide.

Evelyn stood outside the iron gates of Hargrave Manor, its spires lost in storm clouds and shadow. Her lantern flickered once and died—again replaced by the faint, unnatural blue flame that now followed her.