Story 1112: The Mirror That Watches

It arrived on the seventh night of the new moon—a tall, antique mirror wrapped in soiled canvas, left at the doorstep of Madame Grin’s House of Curiosities.

No one saw who delivered it.

No one remembered ordering it.

But once unwrapped, no one could stop looking at it.

The frame was carved from bone-white wood, warped and curling like fingers reaching out. Strange symbols were etched into the silver backing—runes older than language, pulsing with a faint red glow when touched. The surface was flawless, yet it reflected more than what stood before it.

It reflected what you feared becoming.

Evelyn Blackmoor first noticed its power when a guest, a young woman named Lila, stood before the glass for too long. At first, Lila’s reflection mimicked her movements… until it didn’t.

It blinked when she didn’t. Smiled when she frowned.

And then it whispered something, inaudible.

That night, Lila disappeared.

Her reflection remained.

Frozen in the mirror.