Door

Vivian's pulse thundered in her ears as the door rattled on its hinges, the sound echoing through the room. She grabbed the handle and twisted hard, but it wouldn't budge. The thick oak felt as immovable as the stone walls surrounding it.

"Sebastian!" she yelled, her voice cracking. "This isn't funny! Open the door!"

The whisper came again, curling like smoke in the corners of her mind:

"You're not supposed to be here…"

Her breath hitched. It wasn't a voice she recognized—it wasn't Sebastian. It was softer, colder, and utterly devoid of humanity.

Vivian spun around, her back pressed against the door as her eyes darted toward the mirror. The glass was still dark, swallowing the weak light of the candles, but something felt different. The air in the room was heavier, charged with a static hum that vibrated in her chest.

She stared at her reflection, expecting it to move on its own again. But this time, it stood still, perfectly mirroring her every movement. Slowly, Vivian stepped toward the mirror, her footsteps echoing on the wooden floor.

"This is just my imagination," she whispered to herself. "It's the stress. The stories."

But even as she said it, she knew it wasn't true.

The closer she got to the mirror, the colder the room seemed to grow. Her fingers trembled as she reached out again, stopping just short of the glass. For a moment, nothing happened.

And then the surface of the mirror rippled like water.

Vivian gasped, yanking her hand back. The glass quivered, the dark obsidian surface twisting and bending, as if something beneath it was trying to push through.

"Sebastian!" she screamed again, panic rising in her throat.

The whisper returned, louder now, filling her head until it felt like her skull might split.

"You don't belong here. Leave… while you still can."

Vivian stumbled back, clutching her temples as the voice grew louder, more insistent. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the floor, her vision swimming. The room seemed to tilt, the walls bending and warping as if the very house was alive.

Through the haze, she saw movement in the mirror again. But this time, it wasn't her reflection.

A figure stood on the other side of the glass.

It was impossible to make out any details—it was shrouded in shadow, its form flickering and unstable. But the shape was unmistakably human. It moved closer, its hand pressing against the other side of the glass, and for a moment, Vivian thought it might step through.

Her body screamed at her to run, to do anything but sit there frozen. But her limbs felt heavy, as if the air around her had turned to liquid.

The figure's hand pressed harder, and a crack formed in the glass, spiderwebbing outward with an earsplitting noise.

"No," Vivian whispered, her voice barely audible. "This isn't happening."

The door behind her burst open with a deafening bang, and she felt a strong hand grab her arm, pulling her to her feet.

"Vivian!"

Sebastian's voice snapped her out of her trance. She turned to see him standing in the doorway, his face pale but resolute. Without waiting for an explanation, he yanked her out of the room, slamming the door shut behind them.

"What the hell was that?" Vivian demanded, her voice shaking as she tried to catch her breath.

Sebastian didn't answer right away. His hand was still gripping her arm tightly as he led her down the hallway, his long strides forcing her to keep up.

"Let go of me!" she snapped, wrenching her arm free.

He stopped abruptly and turned to face her, his green eyes blazing. "I told you the mirror wasn't just an object," he said, his voice low and sharp. "I warned you."

"You didn't tell me it was—" She gestured wildly behind her. "Alive! What the hell is that thing?"

Sebastian ran a hand through his dark hair, his jaw tightening. "The mirror… it's not just a mirror. It's a doorway."

"A doorway to what?"

"To another place," he said, his voice grim. "A place that doesn't belong in this world."

Vivian stared at him, her mind reeling. "You brought me here to fix that thing, and now you're telling me it's some kind of… of portal?"

Sebastian's expression softened slightly, but his tone remained serious. "I brought you here because you're the best at what you do. And because you're… connected to it."

Vivian froze. "What do you mean, 'connected'?"

He hesitated, his eyes flickering with something she couldn't quite read. Guilt? Fear? "I don't have time to explain everything right now. But you need to stay away from that mirror until I figure out how to contain it."

"Stay away?" she repeated, her voice rising. "You think I'm just going to sit here and pretend I didn't see—"

"Vivian." His voice cut through her protests, quiet but commanding. "Please. Trust me on this. The mirror is dangerous, and if you keep working on it, you'll—"

He stopped himself, his jaw tightening again.

"I'll what?" she demanded.

He didn't answer. Instead, he turned and started walking down the hallway again.

"Sebastian!" she called after him, her frustration boiling over. "If you're not going to tell me what's going on, I'm leaving. You can find someone else to deal with your cursed mirror!"

He stopped but didn't turn around. For a long moment, the only sound was the faint creak of the old manor settling around them.

"You can't leave," he said finally, his voice soft but laced with an edge.

Vivian's stomach dropped. "What do you mean, I can't leave?"

Sebastian turned, his expression unreadable. "Once the mirror has seen you, it doesn't let go."

To be continued...