The Door That Waited

Clara slid the key into the lock of Room 313. The door creaked open, releasing a breath of cold air. The lamp flickered on its own, revealing the cracked mirror and a bed draped in dust.

She stepped closer to the mirror, brushing away a film of grime—only to see, for a second, someone standing behind her. But when she turned, the room was empty.

Then came a whisper: “He’s still here.”

The reflection grinned, though Clara’s face did not.

Her heartbeat thundered as the mirror began to ripple like water. A hand reached out from the glass, pale and trembling.

What should she do?

• TOUCH THE HAND IN THE MIRROR


• RUN AND BREAK THE MIRROR