Episode 3: The Mirror That Whispers

It was 3:07 a.m. Samantha woke up with a start. The air in her room had changed again thick, damp and filled with flowers, as if someone had poured out a full bottle of honeysuckle perfume for her to breath in. Her heart was pounding.

The sound isn’t loud… but it was back again. Whispers. Sure, please provide the text you would like me to paraphrase. Breathy. Childish. Repeating her name out loud. “Saaaamantha… Saaaamantha… come play…” She rose to her feet in the darkened room. Nothing. No movement.

No shadows. But as she turned to head for the hallway the whispers grew in volume. Also more specific this time. “Behind the glass… Behind the glass…” It was the mirror. That tall narrow antique mirror right by her door. The one which wasn’t present when they moved in. Greg said it had “great haunted energy” put in there as a joke. Not so funny now.

She left the room barefoot, each step on the worn wood made her to shake. In the hall which was only dimly lit by a wall sconce which had stopped working the night before the mirror which went almost the full height of the wall was framed in brassy bronze with carvings of which vines twisted in and out. Fog filled the area. Not of her doing no it was internal.

All of a sudden letters started to appear on the glass as if an invisible hand were writing them:. “LOOK DEEPER.” Samantha fell back, hitting the wall, as a painting went askew. She turned and fled to the kitchen which was Greg’s at the time in his pajama pants, he was holding a coffee mug, earbuds in and stared at his laptop.

He said, I see you’re up early. The Wi-Fi demon says good morning. She blinked at him. “The what?” Greg had been out one ear which had it out for him. “Don’t worry, but I’ve been hearing stuff also. Whispers mostly. My play lists would play backwards by themselves.

And last night my AirPods were screaming at me. Greg! Samantha shouted out. The mirror fogged over and wrote out words. There is something in the mirror! Greg raised an eyebrow which then went back to a calm state as he opened the drawer and took out. a frying pan. “Okay.

Let’s go check it out.” They went back to the hall together which is when they notice the mirror was glowing — a low hum coming from it like that of a remote generator. Then out of nowhere the mirror broke into hundreds of pieces from the inside out.

And then… something crawled out. It didn’t grow beyond the size of a dog but was twisted out of all recognition. It appeared as a rabbit, if a rabbit were made of smoke, shadow, and your past which you’ve tried to forget. It would blink at them out of the corner of its eye. Samantha confided that which. Greg saw it. Should I toss the pan?

Before she could react the creature blinked again and fell through the wooden floor like a drop of ink into water. The air was still. But the danger had not passed. Out of the blue the wallpaper began to pull away by itself to reveal under the surface green glowing Latin phrases. “Animam tuam diligo.”

“She is watching.” “Beware the garden girl.” Greg turned his head. “That last one. That which says ‘Beware the girl in the garden’? I thought what it said was that my soul was in it, that was Samantha’s take. We should get in touch with someone, a priest perhaps, a scientist, also a — TikToker which reviews haunts. T

hen the door opened slow and easy. By itself. The first light of dawn broke out. Frost clung to the grass. And at the gate — beyond it — stood a young girl in a white dress. Her long black hair fell like ink. Ivy vines covered her face which only showed a twisted out of the ordinary smile.

She was barefoot… but her toes did not touch the ground. Samantha stepped back. “Greg…” Greg squinted. “Does she want in or is this one of those don’t open the door scenarios we see in horror films? Then the girl moved. Didn’t walk glided.

The front lawn quaked as if from what was going on beneath. Vines jumped. A bird dropped out of the air frozen in flight. Greg threw the frying pan. “Nope. No. Also no. I’m going back to bed. Tell the demon I’m out of the question till after lunch. Samantha, however, couldn’t move. At present the garden girl was singing. At 7 a.m.