the mirror said.

Sarah's life was tangled in the fast pace of the city. The pressure of the job, the pain of a breakup, and the loneliness that would haunt her at night. One day she remembered – her grandfather's old house, hidden in the mountains near Islamabad. "There will be peace there," she thought. It had been two years since her grandfather died, and the house was empty. She took a leave of absence.

As soon as we got home, the air smelled of damp and rot. The walls were covered in beans, and the paint on the wood was peeling. The bathroom was the scariest – broken, and that huge mirror on that wall. Tall, gold-framed, it looked like centuries old. Grandpa used to say, “Touch it, it’s a bad omen.” Sarah laughed, “Old people’s talk!” The first night, she stood in the bathroom, exhausted. The water was roaring, steam froze on the mirror. She wiped it with her hand. She looked at her reflection – hair wet, eyes red. Suddenly, a smile. Her own smile? No! She was serious, but the reflection… lips parted, as if she knew a secret. Her heart beat faster. “It’s a delusion, it’s tired.” She ran and lay down on the bed. She couldn’t sleep. The air outside was cold, shadows were dancing in the corner.

The other night, Sarah decided – she would check the mirror. She turned on the light in the bathroom, picked up the brush. The mirror was the same, but the smile was wide. Teeth showed, yellow, pointed. Tongue soft, leaning towards the mirror. “What’s going on?” Sarah shouted. The mirror answered – shook its head, smiled and… blinked. Sarah’s brush fell. She stepped back, her back hitting the wall. She tried to open the door, but the wood was frozen. “Help!” But the house was empty. Finally the door opened. She ran into the room, closed the door. Her heart was beating fast, she was sweating. She picked up the phone – there was no network. “Why all this?” She lay awake all night. In the morning she looked in the mirror.

Clear, no sign. "I'm going crazy."

Grandfather's diary was found – old, dusty. It read: "The mirror is from 1800. A woman imprisoned her soul in it. She smiled, drawing people in. Grandfather tried to break it, but... the soul came out." Sarah laughed. "Myth!" But evening.It smells the same – rotten.

The third night, it was raining. The electricity was flickering. Sarah was asleep when the sound came – a hoarse laugh, from the bathroom. “No…” She got up, flashlight in hand. She opened the door. The reflection in the mirror was alive! It was growing, hands beating on the glass, nails long, bloody. The smile was so wide that the face seemed to burst. “Sarah… smile… come in…” The voice was her own, deep, ghostly.

Sarah screamed, running. The door was closed! The glass was rattling – crack! crack! CRASH! Pieces scattered everywhere. A shadow emerged – tall, thin, smiling. His eyes were white, his hands on Sarah’s neck. “You are mine!” the shadow said, entering Sarah’s mouth, eyes, body. She fell to the ground, her body shaking, her screams echoing There were.

Morning view

The sun rose, light spread over the mountains. The door of the house was open, as if someone had run away. Inside was silent – ​​like a dead man. The sheets were scattered on the bed, Sarah's jacket was lying, but Sarah was missing. The bathroom... Blood stains, pieces of mirror scattered on the floor, the water was still flowing. The same rot in the air, now more intense. The handprint on the wall – bloody, like a claw.

Sarah’s bag opened, phone inside – finally a video recording: her screams, the shadow’s smiling face. The video stopped when the shadow entered. The room was empty, no body. Dogs were barking outside, as if watching something. The neighboring villager picked up a small piece of mirror – Sarah stood in it, smiling, eyes straight at him. He left, heart pounding, ran away.

The boy's dangerous fate

In the afternoon, Ahmed was walking through the village – a 22-year-old boy, camera in hand, looking for adventure. He saw the house, the door opened. “Wow, abandoned house! Perfect for vlog!” He entered, took out his phone, turned on the video. “Guys, this is a haunted house near Islamabad. Keep watching!” Almost empty rooms were recorded, no one spoke for a long time. Then the bathroom. “Hey, broken mirror! Blood stains?” He laughed, picked up a piece. Cleaned it. He saw his reflection – hair disheveled, smiling. “Selfie time!” Suddenly, the smile widened. “What?” Ahmed leaned forward. The reflection’s mouth gaped, teeth pointed, tongue long. “Run!” The door closed. The piece of mirror warmed, as if alive. A shadow emerged –

Sarah's face, smiling, turned towards Ahmed. "Smile... with me..." Ahmed shouted, dropping the phone. The shadow hit her neck, entered her eyes. Her body started to shake, her nails started to scratch the wall. Blood dripped. The video was still playing – Ahmed's screams, the shadow's laughter. By evening, the house was empty again. Ahmed's camera was in the bathroom, the video ended – Ahmed now stood smiling in the mirror, next to Sarah. The smile... waiting for the next victim.