The flickering candlelight bathes the library in a soft, eerie glow. Master Renton Howling stands before an ornate, full-length mirror, his reflection distorted by the uneven surface. He turns to the audience with a knowing smile, his voice low and laced with dark amusement.
"Ah, my dear friends, how delightful it is to see you again. Tonight's tale is one of illusions, of things that exist in the corner of your eye, and the things you wish you'd never seen at all."
He steps closer to the mirror, trailing a long, pale finger across its cracked surface.
"Mirrors are dangerous things, don't you think? They reflect our world back at us, but sometimes, just sometimes, they show us something... more. A world we don't belong to. A world that watches us back."
Renton's eyes gleam as he leans in closer to the mirror.
"But what if the reflection in the mirror wasn't just you? What if it was something else, waiting for you to notice it, waiting for the perfect moment to step through?"
Renton's smile widens into something almost too sharp, too knowing. He turns away from the mirror and faces the audience once more.
"Beware what you see, dear reader. And whatever you do, never look too closely."
The candles flicker, and the shadows deepen as Renton vanishes into the darkness.
The Vanishing Mansion
Kevin Wheeler had been a UPS delivery driver for six years, and by now, he knew his route like the back of his hand. Every street, every house, every shortcut through town was burned into his mind, making his daily rounds easy and uneventful. He liked it that way, simple, predictable, and most importantly, quiet.
But today was different.
The delivery manifest in his hand showed an address he had never seen before: 31 Ashmore Lane. Kevin squinted at the small, pixelated map on his GPS as he turned onto the narrow, tree-lined road. His brow furrowed in confusion. He'd driven past this street hundreds of times, but he'd never noticed it led to anything. The road was overgrown, the trees forming a thick canopy overhead, casting deep shadows even in the midday sun.
"Must be new," Kevin muttered to himself, though the unease in his gut told him otherwise. The deeper he drove down the road, the more it felt like he was being swallowed by the woods themselves. The trees pressed in closer, and the old gravel road seemed to stretch on forever, despite the fact the GPS said he was only half a mile from his destination.
Then, suddenly, the trees opened up, and Kevin saw it.
The mansion loomed at the end of the road, its tall, gothic structure casting a shadow over the clearing. The place looked like it had been plucked straight out of a horror movie, massive iron gates, crumbling stone walls, and windows that seemed too dark, as though they absorbed the light rather than reflected it. Kevin couldn't help but feel a chill run down his spine.
"This can't be right," he whispered, pulling the truck to a stop outside the gates. He double-checked the address on his delivery sheet. 31 Ashmore Lane. This was definitely the place.
The gates stood wide open, though Kevin couldn't see anyone around. The package was small, wrapped in brown paper, and oddly heavy for its size. There was no name on it, just the address, scrawled in messy black ink. He grabbed it from the passenger seat, hesitated for a moment, then sighed.
"Just a delivery, Kev. In and out."
He pushed open the gate, which creaked ominously, and made his way up the stone path to the mansion's front door. The house was eerily quiet, the only sound the distant rustling of the wind through the trees. Kevin knocked on the door, waiting for an answer. After a few moments of silence, he knocked again, harder this time.
Still nothing.
He glanced over his shoulder, feeling a sudden prickling on the back of his neck, like he was being watched. The house seemed to press down on him, its tall windows like dark eyes staring him down. Kevin shifted uncomfortably, his fingers gripping the package tighter.
Just as he was about to leave the package on the doorstep, something caught his eye.
In the second-story window, directly above the door, he saw movement. A flicker of shadow. Kevin squinted, trying to get a better look. For a moment, it seemed like someone was standing there, just out of sight, watching him.
"Hello?" Kevin called up, waving awkwardly. "UPS delivery!"
No answer.
But then, as the wind died down, Kevin felt his stomach drop. The figure in the window hadn't moved... but it was there. And now that he was looking closer, it wasn't just some vague silhouette.
It was him.
Kevin blinked in confusion, staring up at the window. The figure in the glass looked exactly like him, same brown UPS uniform, same short-cropped hair, same posture. The figure stood perfectly still, mirroring his every movement, and yet it felt wrong. The reflection, if that's what it was, wasn't lined up with him. It was as if the Kevin in the window was watching him, rather than being his reflection.
"What the hell…" Kevin whispered, stepping back from the door.
The figure in the window didn't move, but its smile widened.
Kevin's breath caught in his throat. That wasn't his smile. His face hadn't moved, but the reflection had. The grin on the face in the window was impossibly wide, stretching far too much across its face, revealing too many teeth, as if someone had taken his likeness and warped it into something wrong.
Panicking, Kevin dropped the package and hurried back to the truck, glancing up at the window as he went. The figure still stood there, watching, that twisted grin never fading. He climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut, locking it instinctively, even though he was safely inside the truck.
As Kevin drove away, his heart pounding in his chest, he couldn't shake the feeling that the thing in the window was still watching him. He didn't stop looking into his rearview mirror until he was miles away from Ashmore Lane, the trees finally thinning out and the familiar roads of the town coming back into view.
The next day, Kevin couldn't stop thinking about the mansion. He told himself it was nothing, just a trick of the light, maybe a weird reflection from the sun, but the image of that smiling face kept creeping into his mind. He needed answers.
That afternoon, when he was back at the UPS facility, Kevin scanned the delivery list and noticed something odd. There was another delivery for 31 Ashmore Lane. The same address, another package, this one even heavier than the last. He hesitated for a moment before grabbing it, and as he walked out to his truck, he spotted Mark, one of the other delivery drivers.
"Hey, Mark," Kevin called. "You wanna come with me on this one? I've got a weird delivery."
Mark raised an eyebrow but shrugged. "Sure, why not? I could use a break from the usual route."
The two of them drove back to Ashmore Lane, and as they made their way down the overgrown road, Kevin's hands tightened on the steering wheel. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but his heart raced as they neared the clearing where the mansion stood.
But when they arrived, Kevin's breath caught in his throat.
The mansion was gone.
"What the hell…?" Kevin muttered, his eyes darting around the clearing. The iron gates, the stone path, the towering structure, none of it was there. The lot was completely empty, overgrown with weeds and grass, like nothing had ever been built there at all.
Mark chuckled. "What, Kev? This is the 'weird delivery' you were talking about? Man, you need some sleep."
Kevin stared, his mouth dry. "No, no, it was here yesterday. I swear. There was a house right here."
Mark shook his head, stepping out of the truck. "Looks like an empty lot to me."
Kevin got out too, his hands trembling as he walked toward where the gate had been. There was no gate. No house. Just silence.
"Maybe the address was wrong," Mark suggested, heading back to the truck. "C'mon, let's head back."
But Kevin stood there, his mind spinning. He knew what he had seen. The mansion had been there. The face in the window had been there. And now it was gone, like it had never existed at all.
Kevin couldn't stop thinking about the mansion. No matter how many times he told himself it was just a trick of his mind, he knew what he had seen. The mansion had been there, solid and real, and the figure in the window, his own twisted reflection, had been too vivid, too haunting to dismiss.
But how could it just vanish?
As he sat at the UPS facility the next morning, staring blankly at his delivery route, Kevin's mind kept drifting back to Ashmore Lane. Mark had brushed it off, laughing about Kevin's "ghost house" and saying it was probably just a mix-up with the address. But Kevin wasn't so sure. He felt... something. A pull, an inexplicable need to go back.
As he was about to close out for the day, the familiar address flashed on his screen: 31 Ashmore Lane.
Another package. This time, heavier. Larger.
His stomach churned. Every fiber of his being told him to ignore it, to refuse the delivery, but something deep inside urged him forward. He had to go back. He had to know.
Kevin took a deep breath as he turned down the narrow, overgrown road leading to Ashmore Lane. The trees overhead seemed darker today, their branches twisting together like clawed fingers reaching toward him. The gravel crunched beneath the wheels of the truck, the sound unnervingly loud in the suffocating silence.
As he approached the clearing, his heart began to race. Would the mansion be there? Or would it disappear again, leaving nothing but an empty lot and questions he couldn't answer?
When the clearing finally opened up, Kevin slammed on the brakes.
The mansion was there.
Exactly as he had seen it before, massive, gothic, looming over the landscape like a shadow. The iron gates stood wide open, just as they had before, inviting him in. But there was something different this time, something that made Kevin's skin crawl.
The windows.
Every window on the second floor was now covered by thick curtains, except for one, the same window where he had seen the face. It was bare, revealing the dark interior of the house.
Kevin swallowed hard. The same unease from the previous day washed over him, stronger now, heavier. He stepped out of the truck, clutching the new package in his hands.
As he walked toward the house, the weight of the package seemed to increase with each step, the cold air biting at his skin. The mansion towered above him, its shadow stretching long across the path, and once again, Kevin felt that familiar sensation of being watched.
He glanced up at the window. This time, there was no figure, no distorted reflection staring back at him. But the absence of it was almost worse.
The door stood silent, unmoving, as if the house was waiting for him.
Kevin hesitated, his hand hovering over the knocker. Every instinct screamed at him to leave the package on the porch and get back in the truck. But something in the pit of his stomach, the same thing that had brought him back here, pushed him to stay.
He knocked.
The sound echoed unnaturally, like it was traveling through empty space, deeper than a house like this should allow. He waited. No response. Just like before.
Kevin placed the package on the doorstep, turning to leave, when a soft creak behind him made his blood run cold.
The front door was slowly opening, just a crack, as though someone, or something, had gently pushed it ajar.
Kevin's pulse quickened, and his throat tightened. For a moment, he stood frozen, staring at the dark sliver of space beyond the door. It beckoned him, pulling him forward, just as the house had the first time.
But he couldn't move. He wouldn't.
Without a second thought, Kevin turned on his heel and rushed back to the truck, his heart hammering in his chest. The house loomed behind him as he climbed into the driver's seat, fumbling with the keys. He didn't dare look back. He drove away as fast as he could, the road behind him disappearing into the thick trees.
That night, Kevin couldn't sleep.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the mansion. He saw the window. He saw the figure staring back at him, its twisted grin burning into his memory. He tossed and turned, the image seared into the back of his mind.
When he finally drifted into a restless sleep, the nightmares came.
In the dream, Kevin stood in front of the mansion again, the iron gates wide open. But this time, when he looked up at the window, his reflection wasn't just watching. It was moving, mimicking every step he took, every breath. The grin was wider now, the eyes darker, hollow, and yet... the figure felt alive.
It followed him, even when he turned away, always there, always watching.
Kevin jolted awake, his heart racing, drenched in sweat. His eyes darted around the room, searching for something, anything, to ground him.
Then he saw it.
In the mirror on the wall across from his bed, his reflection stood still, staring back at him. But something was wrong. The reflection didn't match his movements. It was just standing there, motionless, its eyes locked on him.
Kevin blinked, trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep. He leaned closer, narrowing his eyes at the mirror.
And then the reflection smiled.
Kevin's breath caught in his throat. That grin, it was the same twisted, too-wide grin he had seen in the mansion's window. His own face, warped, distorted, staring back at him from the mirror.
He stumbled out of bed, backing away from the mirror, his heart hammering in his chest. The reflection didn't move. It stood there, grinning, its eyes dark and hollow.
Kevin felt a chill run down his spine. He grabbed the mirror from the wall, yanked it down, and threw it to the floor, shattering the glass into a thousand pieces. The reflection shattered with it, the grin disappearing into shards.
But the unease remained.
For the next several days, Kevin couldn't escape the reflection.
Everywhere he went, he felt it watching him. In shop windows, in the glass of his truck, in the puddles on the street after the rain. The figure was always there, lingering just out of sight, always with that same twisted grin.
He avoided mirrors at all costs, but it didn't matter. The reflection had followed him beyond them now. At home, objects began to shift when he wasn't looking, a cup sliding off the table, a picture frame tilting on the wall. He started hearing faint footsteps at night, pacing back and forth in his apartment, but when he checked, the rooms were empty.
The reflection was no longer confined to the mansion. It had found a way into his life.
One evening, as he sat in his living room, trying to focus on anything other than the reflection, his phone buzzed. A new notification flashed on the screen. It was a delivery alert.
Another package for 31 Ashmore Lane.
Kevin's blood ran cold. He hadn't driven to Ashmore Lane in days. But now, it seemed, the mansion was coming to him.
As he stared at the address, the lights in his apartment flickered. The air felt colder, heavier, as though the shadows were pressing in around him. He glanced at the blank television screen on the wall, his breath catching in his throat as he saw his own reflection staring back at him from the dark glass.
The reflection's eyes gleamed, and the grin widened, impossibly large.
Kevin couldn't take it anymore.
He had to go back to the mansion.
Kevin's hands trembled as he gripped the steering wheel, his heart pounding in his chest as he made his way back to Ashmore Lane. The mansion had seeped into every corner of his life, there was no escaping it. He had to face whatever it was that lurked inside, or he would lose his mind completely.
The dark, overgrown road stretched out before him, twisting and turning through the thick trees like a tunnel leading into the mouth of a beast. The sky was overcast, casting everything in a dull, oppressive gray. The air inside the truck felt stifling, suffocating.
As Kevin approached the clearing, his breath caught in his throat.
The mansion was waiting for him.
It stood at the end of the road, just as it had the first time he had seen it, tall, gothic, and menacing. But now, every window was dark, shrouded in heavy curtains except for the one, the window, where he had first seen the figure. The glass was uncovered, revealing only the deep, unnatural darkness inside.
Kevin parked the truck and stepped out, his legs shaky beneath him. He clutched the new package in his hands, it was heavier than before, and the weight seemed to press down on him as if the contents were pulling him toward the mansion. He took a deep breath and made his way up the stone path.
The iron gates creaked as he pushed them open, the sound echoing unnaturally in the silence. As he neared the front door, Kevin could feel the house's presence, like it was alive, waiting for him to enter. His skin prickled with the sensation of being watched, not just from the window, but from every corner of the property.
He glanced up at the window, expecting to see the reflection again, but this time, it was empty. The absence of the figure only made his unease grow. He could feel it, waiting inside.
Kevin hesitated at the front door, his fingers hovering over the handle. The air was cold, unnaturally so, and his breath formed small clouds in front of him. He gripped the package tighter, swallowing the lump in his throat.
There was no turning back now.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The air inside the mansion was thick with dust and decay. The grand entrance hall was just as he had imagined it, tall ceilings, dark wood paneling, and an old chandelier hanging precariously from the ceiling. The room smelled of mildew and something else, something faintly metallic, like blood.
The door closed behind him with a soft click, and Kevin's heart skipped a beat. He glanced back, but there was no one there. Just the oppressive silence of the house.
The package felt impossibly heavy in his hands now, as though it were pulling him deeper into the house. He took a few hesitant steps forward, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight.
From somewhere deep within the house, he heard it, the soft sound of footsteps. Slow, deliberate. They echoed through the halls, growing louder with each passing second.
Kevin froze, his breath catching in his throat. The footsteps stopped, and the air grew colder. He felt something shift in the atmosphere around him, a presence looming over him, watching him from the shadows.
Suddenly, the silence was broken by a low, rasping voice. "You've come back."
Kevin spun around, his heart hammering in his chest, but there was no one there. Only the faint reflection of himself in a cracked mirror hanging on the wall.
But the reflection was wrong.
His reflection stood still, grinning that same twisted grin, its eyes hollow and black. It wasn't mimicking his movements anymore, it was watching him.
Kevin's breath came in short, panicked gasps as he backed away from the mirror. The reflection took a step forward, moving independently of him. The grin widened, stretching impossibly across its face.
"You shouldn't have come back, Kevin," the reflection whispered, its voice dripping with malice.
Kevin dropped the package and turned to run, but the door to the mansion slammed shut, trapping him inside. The walls seemed to close in around him, the shadows growing longer, darker, as if the house itself was coming alive.
The reflection stepped out of the mirror.
Kevin stumbled backward, his eyes wide with terror as the reflection approached him. It moved with an unnatural grace, its body bending and twisting in ways no human could. Its grin never faltered, its hollow eyes fixed on Kevin as though it could see straight into his soul.
The reflection's voice was soft, almost gentle. "You've been chosen, Kevin."
"Chosen for what?" Kevin gasped, his back pressed against the wall.
The reflection stopped inches from his face, its breath cold against his skin. "To take my place."
Before Kevin could react, the reflection lunged forward, its cold, shadowy hands gripping his arms with an iron-like force. Kevin screamed, but no sound came out. The reflection's eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, Kevin could see everything, the darkness, the horror, the endless void that lay beyond the reflection. He could feel his body being pulled, twisted, torn apart by the house's hunger.
His limbs felt heavy, like they were no longer his own. The reflection grinned wider, its teeth sharp and jagged, as it began to merge with him, its shadowy form sinking into his skin.
Kevin tried to fight it, but it was too strong. The reflection was taking over, consuming him from the inside out. He could feel his consciousness slipping, fading into the dark void that had swallowed the house's victims before him.
And then, in the mirror, he saw it, himself, staring back at him, but not as the reflection.
He was trapped.
Kevin's vision blurred as the reflection finished its work, the two of them fully merged. He could feel the cold, lifeless presence of the mansion settling over him like a shroud, suffocating him in its darkness.
He stumbled forward, his movements no longer his own, his mind locked inside his own body. He was still Kevin, but now he was something else, something twisted by the house's hunger.
He looked down at his hands, his reflection's hands, and saw them moving on their own, opening the front door of the mansion. Outside, the overgrown path stretched into the distance, but Kevin knew he would never leave. He was part of the house now.
As he stood in the doorway, he turned and looked back at the mirror. His old self stared back at him, trapped inside the glass, his face frozen in a silent scream.
Kevin smiled, no, the reflection smiled.
The door creaked open wider.
Epilogue
The library is silent as Master Renton stands once more before the mirror. He gazes into its depths, his face half-obscured by the shadows, his smile wide and knowing.
"Ah, Kevin. Poor, poor Kevin," Renton says, his voice a low, amused whisper. "Some houses have a way of choosing their owners, don't they? And some reflections, well, they prefer to live on the other side."
He steps closer to the mirror, his eyes narrowing as he looks into the glass. The faint sound of footsteps echoes in the distance, coming closer, closer still.
"Oh, and one more thing, dear reader," Renton adds, his smile widening. "When you look into a mirror tonight, take care not to stare too long. You never know when it might... stare back."
The library grows darker, the mirror reflecting nothing but shadow. Renton turns to leave, but as he steps away, the faint outline of a face appears in the mirror behind him, a face that isn't his.
Renton doesn't flinch. Instead, he smiles wider, his reflection watching him with cold, empty eyes as the scene fades into blackness.
The End