The Reflection within the Window

It was a stormy evening when Nora arrived at the little, disconnected cabin. The kind of cabin that continuously appeared more like an antique from a forgotten time, tucked absent within the woods, remote from civilization. She had leased it out for the end of the week in an endeavor to induce absent from the push of her work within the city. The steady commotion, the due dates, the perpetual gatherings. The guarantee of peace and calm had been as enticing to pass up. The cabin was ancient, with creaky wooden floors and dividers lined with tidy. However, there was a certain charm to it—the rural magnificence of the place was verifiable. It had everything Nora required: a chimney, a cozy easy chair, and a little kitchen where she seemed to make her favorite dinners. She unloaded her packs, unloading her books, her camera, and a bottle of wine. She aims to unwind and possibly get a little work done. As night fell, the storm exterior sawthed harder, with flashes of lightning lighting up the sky. The wind cried through the trees, and the rain battered against the windows. Nora lit the fireplace and settled into the easy chair with a glass of wine, opening a book, attempting to lose herself in its pages.

That was when she took note of it. At first, it was subtle—a slight development within the corner of her eye. She thought it was fair that the glinting firelight was playing tricks on her. But at that point, as she glanced toward the huge window before her, she saw something. Or maybe, somebody. A figure standing fair outside the window. Nora solidified. The figure was tall, dressed in dull clothing, and stood unmoving within the rain. She might see the layout of their confront, clouded by the beads of water spilling down the glass. Her heart started to race. There was no way anybody might be out there in this storm. The cabin was miles from the closest town.

She stood up and slowly went to the window. Her breath opened the glass as she peered into the darkness. There was no one there. The storm was furious, but he disappeared.

Nora released it as her spirit and played the tricks. The quarantine, the eerie noise of wind, the faintly lit shadows of the room were enough to make all the delusions. But strange events happened more frequently afterwards.

The next night, as the storm continued its relentless attack, Nora sat by the fire, trying to concentrate on her work. She heard a knock on the window. She thought it was part of the storm, as she was very weak at first. But it grew as if someone was pounding a bit, trying to get their attention.

Noras Pulse has accelerated. She stood up to face what was outside. She approached the window and opened a crack. The cold, humid air rushed, and it rose. There was no one there. But something else noticed her - the reflection of the glass.
Your heart has pop out.

Reflections belonged to their own face, but were distorted and turned into grotesque expressions. It seemed someone took a picture of her and twisted it into something much darker. Her eyes widened in fear, and her mouth screamed. The reflection moved as if it wasn't at all, but it was trying to release myself.

Nora snapped and tripped backward. The reflection faded, and she hit the window to block it. Her hands trembled. Her heart competed in confusion and fear. What happened? Has she lost her heart?

The rest of the weekend was a blur of sleepless nights and awful visions. Every time Nora looks at the window, the reflection changes. Sometimes, she looked at her face, but with completely black eyes. In other cases, it was the face of something else - something she didn't recognize. The window was a portal to something else, and didn't show her what was outside, but she didn't show anything that was in her own spirit.

When we arrived on Sunday evening, Nora was mad. She grabbed her bag and was ready. But before she could do that, she decided to take a look through the window for the last time. She stood in front of the glass, her hands shaking as she slowly pulled back the curtains. There was nothing for a while. Only storms fluctuate in the wind. But it was there - a reflection.

It wasn't twisted anymore this time.It was her. I stood in front of the window and came back. However, Nora did not move. She didn't flash. Her reflection remained silent. - As Cold Raw the spine, please tell me if you want to extend the line within the word limit or expand the version with a stronger turn.