The House on Hollow Lane

Mia never believed in ghosts. That’s why she wasn’t scared when her friends dared her to spend an hour inside the old house on Hollow Lane.

"Just one hour," her friend Jake said. "Easy, right?"

Mia rolled her eyes. "Piece of cake."

She stepped inside. The wooden floor groaned under her feet. The air smelled stale, like something long dead. Her flashlight flickered as she walked through the dusty hallway. Broken furniture lay scattered around, and cobwebs hung from the ceiling like rotting curtains.

Then she saw the bedroom.

In the middle of the room stood an old bed. Something lumpy was under the blanket, like someone was sleeping there.

Mia’s breath caught in her throat. It’s just a pile of blankets, she told herself. Nothing to be scared of.

She stepped closer. Slowly, she pulled the blanket back.

The bed was empty. Just a dirty, stained mattress.

Mia let out a nervous laugh—until she saw it.

A single false eyelash lay on the pillow.

It looked fresh, like someone had just taken it off.

The air shifted.

A whisper slid through the dark.

"You took my bed."

Mia spun around.

The lump in the mattress moved.

Then, it sat up.

Mia screamed. She ran to the door and yanked at the handle. It wouldn’t budge.

Behind her, the blanket slid off the bed.

Something crawled out.

It wasn’t human. It was thin. Too thin. A woman-shaped thing with skin stretched too tight over its bones. Its face was twisted, lips curled too far into a wide, broken smile.

And its eyes?

They were missing.

Mia’s flashlight flickered.

The thing tilted its head, reaching out with claw-like fingers.

Mia pressed herself against the door. "Please—"

The thing’s grin widened.

Then it raised one long, bony hand… and peeled something off its own face.

It was a mask.

Underneath, Mia saw herself.

The creature had her face.

But her reflection in the cracked mirror? It had the monster’s grin.

The room spun. Mia’s body felt wrong—like her skin was too tight.

She tried to move, but her arms didn’t listen.

She looked down—

Her hands weren’t hers anymore.

They were thin. Gray.

She touched her face and felt sharp cheekbones, hollow eyes, stretched skin.

She turned to the mirror.

Inside it, her old self was smiling.

Mia tried to scream.

But the new Mia in the mirror whispered first.

"You can stay here now."

Then she walked out of the room, inside Mia’s body.

The real Mia was trapped.

The next night, Jake and the others came looking for her.

They found her.

Sitting on the bed. Smiling.

"See?" Mia said cheerfully. "Told you it was easy."

Jake frowned. "You good?"

She giggled. "Never better."

But something was wrong.

Mia’s smile was… too wide.

Her eyes were too bright.

And sitting on the pillow behind her—

Was a single false eyelash.

Jake reached for her shoulder. "C’mon, let’s go."

Mia tilted her head. "Go? But…"

She looked at the bed.

Jake followed her gaze.

Another lump had appeared under the blanket.

Slowly… it moved.

Jake’s breath hitched. He reached for the blanket.

He pulled it back.

His own face stared up at him.

Pale. Lifeless.

Mouth open in a silent scream.

Jake tried to run—

But "Mia" grabbed his wrist.

Her grip was ice.

She leaned in, smiling. "Took you long enough."

Then she pushed him.

Jake fell—into the bed.

Into the lump.

Into himself.

The second he hit the mattress, darkness swallowed him whole.

The next morning, Mia—the new Mia—walked down Hollow Lane, humming to herself.

The sun was shining. The air was crisp.

She blinked against the sunlight, then sighed.

With a flick of her wrist, she peeled something off her eyelid.

A single false eyelash.

She dropped it on the sidewalk.

Then she walked away.

Behind her, the house on Hollow Lane stood silent.

Waiting.

For the next visitor.