The Haunted Mirror at Blackwood Manor

Jason Hill stirred uneasily as the memory of his eerie experience came flooding back. "It was the mirror," he muttered, still pale from the encounter. "I was staring into it when I lost consciousness. There was something in there… something wrong." His voice trembled as he spoke, recalling the unnerving sensation that seemed to suck him into the darkness within the glass.

Chris, the owner of Blackwood Manor's famous haunted attraction, felt a jolt of recognition. Jason's words mirrored an experience he'd had the previous night—literally. He had played a game involving a mirror, only to feel something was trying to emerge from within it. But thanks to a timely distraction, the thing lurking in the reflection hadn't crossed over.

Still, according to Jason's account, the entity might still be hiding inside the house. The realization made Chris's heart race.

"Boss, is this one of the new attractions? Why haven't I heard of it?" Wendy Xu, his assistant, approached curiously. A crowd of tourists gathered nearby, their attention on Chris as whispers spread through the air.

Chris found himself in an awkward position. He couldn't exactly admit that there might be a real ghost lurking in his haunted house. Telling everyone that Blackwood Manor was genuinely haunted would be a surefire way to scare away visitors—and probably get himself locked up in an asylum.

"Well, let's just say it's a… new interactive experience," Chris improvised, giving Jason a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "But I wouldn't recommend trying it without guidance. You saw what happened to him. It can be a bit intense if you're not careful. So, who's next? Come on, folks, don't be scared! It's just part of the thrill, right?"

"Thrill, my ass!" a tourist in the crowd exclaimed. "The guy passed out! I came here for some spooky fun, not to risk my life!"

"Yeah! I don't need you to replace my phone screen, just please stop uploading creepy videos in the middle of the night!" another chimed in.

"Seriously, man, count me out!" a third tourist added, visibly backing away.

Chris gave a rueful smile, shaking his head. "You're all overreacting. The haunted house isn't even that scary."

One of the tourists, clearly unimpressed, shot back, "Bro, two forensic science students—who deal with corpses for a living—came here. One left in tears, and the other passed out. And you're standing there saying it's not scary? Do you even hear yourself?"

"You've got to be kidding me!" another onlooker added. "Dude, have some decency!"

The crowd's skepticism grew louder, forcing Chris to think fast. After all, the haunted house wasn't going to run itself.

"You've all come this far just to hang around outside?" he asked, trying to ease the tension. "Listen, fear can be healthy. It gets the adrenaline pumping and the blood circulating. A little scare is good for you!"

"Yeah, right. Why not claim your haunted house cures cancer while you're at it?" one of the tourists scoffed. He turned to leave, only to be interrupted by an unexpected voice.

"I'll take a ticket," came the booming voice of a middle-aged man from the crowd.

"What the hell? We've got a brave one!" someone exclaimed.

"Hey, man, don't be rash! Regular haunted houses charge money—this one charges your soul!" another called out sarcastically.

"Respect, man! Go ahead, and don't worry about your family—we'll take care of your wife and kids while you're gone!" someone else joked.

The middle-aged man, a bit bald but still confident, approached Chris. "I want one ticket," he said, handing over the money without hesitation.

"You're going in alone?" Chris asked, impressed. The man seemed fearless, walking right into danger. This was the kind of customer that haunted houses dreamed of—bold enough to face the unknown.

Chris handed him a ticket, fully prepared to give some standard warnings, but before he could speak, the man turned and walked in the opposite direction of the entrance.

"Sir, the door's over here," Chris called after him.

"I know," the man replied, without looking back. He wandered back into the crowd, pulled out his phone, and snapped a few pictures of the ticket. Then, with a smile, he posted to social media: "Spring is in the air! A perfect day for adventure. I highly recommend Blackwood Manor's haunted house—just toured it and got scared out of my wits. Truly terrifying experience."

The gathered crowd stared in disbelief. The man had stood outside the haunted house for twenty minutes, bought a ticket, and was now pretending he'd braved the entire thing. No one could believe it.

Before anyone could respond, the man's social media post started getting likes and comments.

From the Human Resources department: "Wow, Zhang! You're scared of mice, and yet you're brave enough for a haunted house? Respect!"

From his colleague in the mold department: "Must be a kids' haunted house if you're going in, haha."

From his wife: "Get home and make dinner. NOW."

From his daughter: "Dad, stop lying. We know you're a chicken. LOL."

The man responded to each comment with a smile, not bothered by the teasing. "You should all try it yourselves," he replied. "Your courage must be greater than mine."

The onlookers were dumbfounded.

"Dude, you've got guts, fooling your own wife and kid like that!" one of the younger men with a broken phone said, clearly entertained. Without hesitation, he turned to Chris. "Give me a ticket, too!"

Chris handed him a ticket, puzzled at how the situation had spiraled so unexpectedly. The young man took out his shattered phone, snapped a picture, and posted: "Can't believe I'm getting this freaked out by a haunted house. Scared myself silly."

Satisfied with his post, the young man grinned.

Suddenly, more people wanted in. "I'll take a ticket!"

"Make it two!"

The haunted house was still empty, but tickets were selling fast. As the crowd slowly dispersed, Chris looked at the pile of cash in his hands, a contented smile spreading across his face.

"Boss, we've sold more tickets this morning than we did in the last two weeks!" Wendy crouched beside Chris, unable to contain her excitement.

"Don't get too comfortable," Chris replied, pocketing the cash. "This is just beginner's luck. If we really want to keep people coming back, we need solid content."

He turned his attention to the two forensic students who had unwittingly helped sell so many tickets. Jason Hill and Eva Frost, both still looked shaken.

"Feeling any better?" Chris asked, offering them water. They were, after all, the key to his morning's success.

Jason gave a sheepish nod. "Sorry for all the trouble."

Eva, still pale, shifted her gaze between Chris and Wendy. "I have two questions," she said, her tone serious.

"Go ahead," Chris replied, intrigued.

"First," she began, "in the West Wing, I saw this woman in the mirror. How did she suddenly appear behind me?"

Chris smiled. "You assumed it was a regular mirror, but it's actually made up of three panes, forming a triangular pillar. Two sides are hidden inside the wall, and with a push, they rotate. The game's exit is behind the mirror. The woman you saw wasn't real—just a life-size photo prepped with lighting effects. Wendy, here, was hiding behind the mirror, and the footsteps you heard? Those were sound effects."

Eva nodded, though the explanation did little to soothe her.

"And your second question?" Chris asked.

Eva hesitated for a moment before pointing at Wendy. "Why does she feel so… off? Looking at her is like staring at a corpse."