Autumn in Blackwood always arrived with a thick fog that enveloped the streets like a shroud. Bianca Mercer, a young writer seeking inspiration for her next novel, was walking through the city's old district when a small antique shop caught her eye.
The door creaked open, and the aroma of aged wood and dust enveloped her. Among rusty candelabras and worn furniture, something gleamed in the shadows: a tall, ornate Victorian mirror with an ebony frame carved with twisted figures that seemed to be watching her.
—"It's unique, miss," whispered the salesman, an old man with glassy eyes. "It was brought from England... it has a history."
Bianca didn't believe in superstitions, but something about the mirror hypnotized her. Without thinking, she bought it and took it to her apartment.
The first night, Bianca hung the mirror opposite her bed. As she lay down, she noticed something strange: her reflection didn't blink at the same time as she did. She rubbed her eyes, attributing it to tiredness, but the next day, while putting on makeup, she saw her image in the mirror... smiling when she wasn't.
—"What the hell...?" she murmured, approaching.
Suddenly, her reflection turned its head towards her with a sinister creak and spoke.
—"Bianca... you're finally here."
She recoiled, tripping over the carpet. When she looked again, her reflection was normal. Hallucinations? Stress?
The following days were a nightmare. Bianca began to hear whispers in her room, voices whispering her name when she was alone. Worse still, her reflection no longer imitated her: sometimes it watched her with empty eyes, other times it moved its lips as if singing.
One morning, Bianca woke up frozen. Looking at the mirror, she saw a pale woman with black hair and an old-fashioned dress, standing behind her in the reflection. But when she turned around... there was no one there.
—"I'm Evelyn..." whispered the voice in her ear. "And this was my home."
Desperate, Bianca investigated. In the local library, she found an article from 1893: "Evelyn Blackwood, young socialite, disappeared from her mansion. Her body was never found." The photo was identical to the woman in the mirror.
Returning to her apartment, the mirror was hot to the touch. Her reflection was no longer hers: Evelyn stared at her, with a ragged smile.
—"I need a body to return... and you will give it to me."
The lights flickered. The furniture moved on its own. Bianca tried to break the mirror, but an invisible struggle stopped her.
In a last effort, Bianca covered the mirror with a sheet. But that night, she woke up inside the reflection, seeing Evelyn in her place, stretching her skin like a costume.
—"Thank you, Bianca... now I will live your life."
Evelyn stepped out of the mirror, leaving her trapped in an inverted world, where shadows moved and whispers were eternal.
Since then, the neighbors say that Bianca "changed": she now always wears black, avoids mirrors... and smiles in a way that doesn't belong to her.
Meanwhile, in the reflection, the real Bianca bangs on the glass, screaming soundlessly, as other figures approach... because the mirror never returns what it traps.
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