The Mirror in the Basement

Ella had always been curious, a little too curious for her own good. When she inherited her grandmother’s old house, she was eager to explore every nook and cranny. The house was large and ancient, filled with memories and secrets.

One afternoon, as she explored the basement, she discovered something strange. Covered in a dusty old sheet was a full-length mirror, standing in the corner, untouched for years.

She paused, eyeing the reflection in the dim light. The mirror seemed oddly out of place. Everything in the basement was worn and faded, but the mirror’s surface was perfectly clean.

Something about it felt wrong.

But Ella couldn’t resist. She pulled the sheet off, revealing the glass.

Her reflection was normal at first, but then something caught her eye.

It wasn’t her.

A figure stood behind her, tall, dressed in black. Their face was hidden in the shadows, but Ella could feel its gaze.

Startled, she spun around, heart racing. But there was no one behind her. The basement was empty.

She turned back to the mirror, her pulse quickening. The figure was still there, standing a little closer now. Its movements were slow, deliberate, like it was waiting for something.

Ella stepped forward, her breath shallow. The figure did not move.

With a trembling hand, she reached for the mirror. The cold glass sent a shock through her fingers as she touched it.

And then, the figure smiled.

It wasn’t a kind smile. It was wicked, predatory.

Ella jerked her hand away. The reflection didn’t mimic her movement. The figure remained still, eyes locked on her, its smile widening.

Terrified, she backed away, her feet stumbling over the clutter on the floor. She turned to run, but the mirror's surface rippled, almost like water.

The smile in the reflection grew wider.

"You shouldn’t have looked."

The whisper came from the mirror, as if the figure was speaking directly to her mind.

Ella froze. Her heart thudded in her chest. The air in the room grew heavy, suffocating. The mirror seemed to pull her in, its surface distorting, twisting. The figure reached out of the glass, its long, dark fingers stretching toward her.

With all her strength, Ella ran toward the stairs, crashing through the basement door. She could hear the voice, louder now, calling her name.

"Come back."

She reached the front door, yanking it open, gasping for breath.

When she turned to look back at the house, she saw it—just for a moment. The reflection of the house in the window. But it wasn’t the house as she knew it.

It was a dark, twisted version, with shadows moving behind the windows. And in the reflection, a figure stood in the upstairs window, watching her.

Ella never went back inside.

But when a new family moved in, they found the basement mirror, undisturbed.

And from inside, the whispers began.

"You shouldn’t have looked."