Chapter 1: Shattered Reflections
The antique mirror arrived without warning, delivered in a wooden crate marked with no sender’s name. Evie Lancaster stared at the ornate frame, its surface carved with twisting vines and faceless figures, their elongated hands gripping the edges as if trying to escape.
“Did you order this?” she asked her roommate, Clara, who shook her head, a frown deepening on her face.
“No, and honestly, it’s creepy.”
Evie couldn’t disagree. The mirror radiated an unsettling aura, as though it were alive. Still, something about it intrigued her. She leaned in, her breath fogging the glass, and for a fleeting moment, the reflection shimmered.
A figure appeared behind her—just a blur of shadow—but when she turned, there was no one there.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Clara said, dragging her back. “Let’s cover it up or sell it. That thing is bad news.”
Evie nodded, but as the evening wore on, she found herself drawn to the mirror. It wasn’t just an object—it felt like it was watching her, waiting.
Night fell, and Clara had already retreated to bed. Evie sat alone in the dim light of the living room, the mirror dominating the space. Her sketchbook lay open on her lap, but her pencil moved listlessly, the lines on the page becoming distorted.
A soft whisper echoed, faint but unmistakable.
“Evie…”
Her breath hitched. She scanned the room, but it was empty. The voice came again, louder this time, emanating from the mirror itself.
“Find me.”
Evie’s reflection rippled like water. Instead of her own face, a fractured version stared back—pale skin, hollow eyes, and cracked veins spidering across its surface. She scrambled back, heart pounding.
“What do you want?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
The reflection smiled, its cracked lips parting. “To show you the truth.”
