The Door That Shouldn't Exist

Aarav's breath hitched. The woman's fingers were ice against his wrist, her grip unyielding. The air around them felt suffocating, like unseen eyes bore into his very soul.

"Do not open it," she repeated, her voice a whisper but carrying an undeniable weight.

But something inside Aarav rebelled.

His instincts told him that this door—this impossible, ancient door—held answers. Answers he had been searching for without even realizing it.

He pulled his wrist free.

The woman stiffened, but she didn't stop him. She just watched as Aarav pressed his palm against the cold surface of the door.

It pulsed beneath his touch.

A slow, rhythmic thrum vibrated through his fingers, as if the door itself had a heartbeat. He swallowed hard. Then, with a sharp inhale, he pushed.

The door opened.

Blinding light engulfed him.

For a moment, he thought he was falling again—but then he realized he was standing in the same hallway, except… everything had changed.

The walls were no longer stone, but mirrors.

And in every single reflection—Aarav wasn't alone.

His own reflection stood there, but so did others. Figures cloaked in shadow, their faces blurred, their presence unnatural. They were standing behind him, motionless. Watching.

A chill slithered down his spine.

"Aarav," a voice whispered.

He spun around—no one.

His pulse pounded as he faced the mirrors again. His reflection… moved on its own.

Aarav's mirrored self raised its hand, fingers splayed, and for a split second, its lips curved into a smirk.

Aarav staggered backward. That wasn't him. It looked like him, but something was terribly, terribly wrong.

Then the mirrors shattered.

Glass exploded around him, yet none of the shards touched his skin. They hung in the air, frozen in time, reflecting fragments of unfamiliar places, memories that weren't his.

And then—one shard moved.

It twisted, hovered closer, and showed him something.

A place.

A house he had never seen before.

A single word echoed in his mind, unspoken but clear:

"Find it."

And then—darkness.

Aarav gasped as his vision returned, finding himself back in the dimly lit hallway. The mirrors were gone. The door was gone. The woman in black was gone.

But the memory remained.

A place. A house. A mission whispered by something—or someone—unknown.

And Aarav had to find it.