"The Reflection"

Emma had just moved into the old Victorian house on the outskirts of Raven Hollow. It was cheap, too cheap for its size. Her friends warned her about the town’s rumors: disappearances, strange lights in the woods, and "the house that watches." But she didn’t believe in ghosts.

She moved in alone. The first week was peaceful. Dusting old shelves, painting over the flaking wallpaper. Then, on the seventh night, she noticed a mirror.

It was mounted in the upstairs hallway—tall, framed in black iron vines. She didn’t remember seeing it during the walkthrough. Maybe she’d missed it. Still, something about it felt…wrong.

When she looked into it, she felt a pull, like gravity wasn’t quite right.

Emma awoke at 3:33 in the morning that night to a rhythmic, soft tapping.

She padded down the hall. She put his eyes on the mirror

The mirror was fogged over—from the inside. She froze. Behind the mist, something was moving. Emma reached out with trembling fingers, wiped the glass. She was there. But her reflection was… off. It was standing in the same place, mimicking her exactly, except for one thing:

It was her eyes. Her reflection wasn’t looked happy.

Suddenly, the lights flickered. The hallway darkened for half a second. When they came back on, her reflection was gone.

She screamed. However, nobody heard her. She was alone.

The next day, she tried to take the mirror down, but it was bolted to the wall, and the screws had no heads. Like they'd been melted into place. She covered it with a bedsheet. That night, she slept with the lights on.

But at 3:33 AM,

the lights blew out. The air turned icy. And from beneath the sheet, she heard laughter. She was speaking. She ran out of the house and didn’t return until morning.

Over the next few days, things escalated. Her phone would ring, always at 3:33. No number. Just silence. A whisper then: “Let me out.” Her shadow would linger seconds longer than it should. And the reflection began appearing in other places — windows, turned-off TV screens, her phone's black screen.

Always smiling……

Always watching…….

Desperate, she invited a local priest to bless the house. He stepped into the hallway, looked into the mirror and immediately collapsed, bleeding from the nose. "There’s something inside," he exclaimed. Something… ancient." He refused to return.

That night, Emma dreamed of drowning in the mirror. She saw herself, screaming silently, hands pressed against the inside of the glass, while her reflection lived freely in her place. When she got up, she saw scratches on her arms that were exactly like the ones she had seen in her dream.

She finally decided to leave. Packed her car. Threw a blanket over the mirror one last time. Her phone buzzed as she walked out the front door. One new photo in her gallery. Her hand trembled as she opened it. It was a photo of her sleeping, taken from inches away.

Timestamp: 3:33 AM.

He quickly left the house and checked into a hotel.Emma ran. Checked into a hotel. She looked in the bathroom mirror before bed. No smile. Just her. She locked the door put the curtains up.

At 3:33 AM, the hotel fire alarm went off.

She sat up in bed, her heart was pounding. The bathroom door was wide open. She went to the bathroom. But when she looked into the mirror, her reflection stood perfectly still. Then… blinked at her. She hadn’t blinked. And then it smiled.

Emma screamed, backing away — but her reflection didn’t move. It just kept smiling, tilting its head slowly, like a predator learning how to mimic its prey. And then it stepped out of the mirror.

The next day, Emma's body was found, folded and crammed behind the hotel dresser. Her face twisted in absolute terror.

Her organs, according to the coroner, were... reversed, like she had been mirrored from the inside. The last strange thing?

CCTV showed Emma walking out of the hotel that morning.

Smiling.

Not blinking.

And somewhere the mirror still waits.

Watching.

Hungry.

Ready to reflect someone new.