The truth behind the inn

Peter's breath hitched as the hollow-eyed figure pointed at him. The air in the room felt suffocating, thick with something unseen yet undeniably real. Emily clutched his arm, her nails digging into his skin.

"We have to go!" she whispered in panic.

But the door wouldn't open.

The figure in the mirror didn't move, but its presence pressed down on them. Then, in a slow, dragging voice, it spoke again.

"You don't belong here… but now… you're part of it."

The words sent a chill straight into Peter's bones. Emily was trembling beside him, but he forced himself to think. There had to be a way out.

His eyes darted back to the photograph on the nightstand. The blurred faces. The couple standing in front of the inn.

Then, suddenly—a memory flashed through his mind.

Not his memory. Someone else's.

He saw the same couple, decades ago, standing right where he and Emily were now. They were trapped, just like them. The man pounded on the door, the woman screamed. But then—the shadows swallowed them whole.

The vision snapped away, leaving Peter gasping.

Emily grabbed his shoulders. "What happened?! What did you see?"

Peter's voice was shaky. "This has happened before. We're not the first ones."

The whisper came again, louder this time.

"You came looking for ghosts. Now you are one."

The mirror shattered completely, glass raining down around them. In its place, a doorway appeared, leading into a dark, endless hallway.

Emily shook her head. "No. I'm not going in there."

Peter turned back to the locked door, then to the shadowy figure—but it was gone.

"We don't have a choice," he whispered.

Then, the candle at the end of the hallway blew out, plunging them into darkness.

And the whispers turned into screams.