Missing

There was only one rule: don’t open the door.

For years, Lily had obeyed. She had heard the warning from her mother countless times, always accompanied by a grave expression and a trembling finger pointed toward the old oak door in the attic. “It’s locked for a reason, sweetheart,” her mother would say. “You don’t know what’s behind it.”

But curiosity is a relentless beast, growing stronger with every whispered rumor and ghostly echo of the past. On a stormy night, as rain lashed against the windows, Lily felt the walls closing in. The attic door, shrouded in shadows, seemed to call out to her.

She climbed the creaky stairs, the air thickening with every step. Standing before the door, she felt a mix of fear and exhilaration. The lock was old, rusted, defiant against her attempts to stay away. With a deep breath, she reached for the key hidden beneath the floorboards.

The key turned with a satisfying click.

As the door swung open, dark tendrils seemed to seep out, coiling around her ankles. The room was empty, save for a single ornate mirror framed in tarnished gold. Nervously, she stepped inside.

Her reflection was normal at first, but then it shifted—a smile that didn’t belong spread across the glass. “Welcome,” it hissed, voice a chilling echo of her own.

Lily staggered back, fear racing through her veins. “What…what are you?”

“Your curiosity invited me in,” it cooed, stepping closer.

Panic surged as Lily turned to flee, but the door slammed shut behind her.

When dawn broke, the attic was quiet once more. In the mirror, a new reflection grinned—waiting patiently for the next soul curious enough to wander upstairs