The Girl in the Mansion
It was the last place Mia expected to find herself: standing alone at the gates of a mansion so ancient it looked like it had been frozen in time. She wasn’t here by choice. It was the only inheritance her estranged grandmother had left her. Everyone in town whispered that the mansion was cursed, filled with dark secrets better left alone.
But Mia wasn’t one to believe in rumors, and besides, she had no choice. Struggling with debt and her crumbling life, she needed to sell the property and move on. The quicker she went inside, the quicker she could leave.
Still, there was something off about it. The way the wind seemed to whistle through the cracked windows, as if the house itself was breathing. The iron gates groaned as they creaked open, like a warning that she was trespassing somewhere she shouldn’t be.
She hesitated. But Mia had never backed down from a challenge in her life. With a deep breath, she stepped forward.
The grand doors opened with a loud creak. Dust spiraled in the air as she crossed the threshold, her footsteps echoing through the hollow entrance. The scent of mildew hung heavy, mixed with something more unsettling—decay. But she pressed on, determined to make a quick assessment and leave.
“Hello?” she called out, her voice echoing against the high walls of the foyer. Not that she expected anyone to answer, but the silence that followed unnerved her more than she wanted to admit.
Her heart raced as she moved further in. The mansion, despite its exterior decay, was breathtakingly intricate. Ornate woodwork framed the walls, and a grand chandelier hung precariously above her, each crystal catching what little light streamed through the dirty windows. Faded portraits of stern-looking figures lined the hall. Their eyes seemed to follow her every move.
Mia felt a chill run down her spine.
“This place is definitely worth something,” she muttered to herself, trying to focus on the potential value rather than the creeping feeling of unease. But as she explored further, a strange sensation began to settle in. It was as if the house was watching her.
By the time she found the study, Mia’s nerves were already stretched thin. The air inside the room was dense, almost stifling. Dust-coated bookshelves reached from floor to ceiling, filled with volumes that looked untouched for decades. A massive oak desk dominated the center of the room, its surface cluttered with old papers, an antique quill, and—oddly enough—a letter addressed to her.
Mia blinked in confusion. The letter was new, the paper crisp. With trembling fingers, she opened it.
"Welcome, Mia. You’ve come just in time. The truth you seek is already seeking you."
Her breath hitched. She hadn’t told anyone she was coming here. And even if someone had known, how would they have left a letter before she arrived?
Goosebumps pricked her skin as she scanned the rest of the letter. But the handwriting was an odd blend of elegant and frantic, as if the writer had been in a hurry.
"Do not go upstairs," it concluded, "if you wish to leave this place alive."
Mia dropped the letter, her hands trembling. This had to be a joke. Someone was messing with her. But no one knew about this place except her lawyer, and he had no reason to play games.
She felt her heart pound faster as she glanced toward the staircase just outside the study. The letter had told her not to go upstairs, but her curiosity was eating her alive. What could be up there that was so dangerous?
Against her better judgment, Mia made her way up the stairs. Each step groaned under her weight, and she half expected them to collapse beneath her. When she reached the top, a long hallway stretched before her, with doors lining each side. The air here was colder, almost biting. And it was eerily silent, like the house was holding its breath.
The door at the far end of the hallway caught her attention. It was different from the others—newer, freshly painted, as if someone had recently taken care of it. A faint glow seeped out from the cracks around its edges.
Mia approached cautiously, her pulse hammering in her ears. Her hand hovered over the doorknob for a moment before she took a deep breath and turned it.
The door creaked open slowly.
Inside, the room was small, almost claustrophobic, and completely out of place compared to the rest of the mansion. There was nothing but a bed and an old wooden chair. On the chair sat a figure, their back turned to her, hunched over as if they were waiting for her to enter.
Mia froze, her heart leaping into her throat.
“Hello?” she whispered, though her instincts screamed at her to run.
The figure didn’t move. Not a muscle.
Summoning all the courage she had left, Mia took a step closer. The air in the room grew heavier with each movement she made, pressing against her chest. She could barely breathe as she approached.
When she was close enough, she realized something even more unsettling. The figure wasn’t breathing.
Just as she reached out to touch the figure’s shoulder, the door slammed shut behind her, causing Mia to yelp in surprise. She whipped around, her heart pounding as she tugged on the doorknob, but it wouldn’t budge.
The air became oppressive, and she could feel eyes on her—though she was now alone in the room.
Suddenly, there was a noise. A faint creaking sound from behind her. Slowly, she turned back toward the figure. But the chair was now empty.
A sense of dread washed over her as she realized—whatever had been in that chair was no longer there. And she had no idea where it had gone.
Just as panic began to take hold, she heard footsteps. Slow, deliberate footsteps. They echoed from the shadows in the corner of the room, growing louder with each second.
Mia’s breath hitched as the footsteps stopped, mere inches from where she stood, though no one was there.
And then, a voice—cold and hollow, whispering in her ear.
"You're not supposed to be here."
Mia stumbled backward, her heart racing as she searched for a way out. Her mind screamed at her to flee, but her body refused to move. She was trapped. As the shadows in the room seemed to stretch and crawl toward her, a knock echoed from the door.
Knock. Knock.
Three slow, deliberate knocks, each one reverberating through her bones.
Before she could react, the door swung open, revealing a figure standing in the doorway. Mia's breath caught in her throat as she recognized the face.
It was her.
Her exact reflection stood in the doorway, watching her with an eerie calm.
"Welcome," the doppelganger said, her voice soft but filled with menace. "We've been waiting for you."
Mia's eyes locked onto the figure standing in the doorway—the version of herself that shouldn’t exist. Her breath caught in her throat as her double smiled, a slow, deliberate curl of the lips that felt all wrong. The light from the hallway flickered as if the house itself was trembling.
"We’ve been waiting for you," her doppelganger repeated, taking a step into the room. The air seemed to thicken, as if the very walls were closing in. Mia’s heart pounded in her chest, her mind spinning between disbelief and terror. She could hear her pulse ringing in her ears, every instinct screaming at her to run, but her legs refused to move.
The doppelganger’s presence was overwhelming—like a mirror twisted in some nightmarish way. Everything about her was identical to Mia, except for the eyes. They were colder, darker, and hollow. No life sparkled in them. She was a copy, but devoid of a soul.
“I don’t understand,” Mia whispered, her voice shaking. “Who are you?”
The doppelganger tilted her head slightly, the movement so unnervingly familiar yet foreign at the same time. “I am you,” she said softly, her voice echoing unnaturally through the room. “Or at least, the part of you you’ve chosen to forget.”
Mia shook her head, stepping back toward the corner of the room, her back pressing against the wall. “That’s impossible! I’m real. You’re not—” Her words faltered as her twin stepped closer, that eerie smile never fading.
“Are you sure?” The doppelganger’s voice was calm, too calm. “You’ve been running from me for a long time, Mia. But now that you’ve come here, it’s time to remember.”
The room seemed to pulse with her words, the shadows growing darker, longer, stretching toward Mia like grasping hands. She felt as though the very fabric of reality was tearing apart, her mind screaming against the insanity that surrounded her.
“I’m not you!” Mia shouted, finally breaking through the paralysis that had gripped her. She bolted toward the door, shoving past her doppelganger and into the dimly lit hallway beyond. She could hear the distorted laughter of the double echoing behind her, but she didn’t dare look back. Every fiber of her being was focused on one thing—escape.
The hallway stretched before her, seemingly endless now, its walls narrowing as though they were closing in on her. The mansion felt alive, shifting and bending in ways that defied logic. Doors she had passed earlier were now gone, replaced by endless corridors that led nowhere.
Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she sprinted, her footsteps pounding against the wooden floor. But no matter how fast she ran, the end of the hallway remained the same distance away. Panic clawed at her chest. She couldn’t escape.
Suddenly, a door to her right creaked open—just a sliver, but enough to catch her attention. She skidded to a stop, her instincts screaming at her not to go inside, but the doppelganger’s voice echoed in her mind: It’s time to remember.
Without thinking, Mia pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room was small and dimly lit, a stark contrast to the vast hallways she had just fled. Old furniture, covered in dust and draped in cobwebs, lined the walls. A single lamp flickered in the corner, casting long, flickering shadows that danced across the floor. But what drew Mia’s attention was the object at the center of the room: an ornate mirror, taller than she was, its silver frame tarnished and cracked in places.
The moment she stepped closer, the temperature in the room seemed to drop. The air became thick with a suffocating stillness. The mirror, though old and worn, was pristine—its surface gleaming as if it had never been touched by time.
Mia approached it cautiously, her reflection staring back at her, but something was… off. The girl in the mirror looked like her but didn’t quite move the way she did. The reflection’s eyes followed her with an eerie awareness, even when Mia stood still.
As she reached out to touch the glass, her fingers hovering just inches away, the reflection smiled—a smile that wasn’t hers.
Before she could react, the reflection moved. It stepped forward, pressing its hands against the glass from the other side, mirroring her stance but with an eerie, predatory gleam in its eyes.
Mia stumbled backward in shock, but her reflection remained pressed against the glass, watching her, waiting.
“What do you want from me?” Mia’s voice was barely a whisper, her heart racing in her chest. She felt like she was drowning in a sea of confusion and terror.
The reflection didn’t answer, but something in the mirror shifted. The glass rippled, like the surface of a disturbed pond, and suddenly, the room behind the reflection wasn’t the same one Mia stood in. It was dark, shadowy, and filled with shapes she couldn’t quite make out.
A figure stepped into view behind the reflection—another doppelganger, this one even more distorted than the first. Its features were twisted, its eyes hollow and sunken, its mouth stretched into a grotesque grin.
Mia took another step back, her stomach twisting in fear. “No… no, this isn’t real.”
But the figures in the mirror moved closer, their smiles growing wider, more malicious. The air in the room grew colder, biting at her skin. The reflection placed its palm flat against the glass, and to Mia’s horror, the glass began to crack.
A soft, sinister laughter echoed from the mirror, and the cracks spread across its surface like spiderwebs. Mia turned to flee, but the door she had entered through was now gone, replaced by a solid wall. She was trapped.
“Let me out!” she screamed, banging her fists against the wall in desperation. But the walls remained silent, unmoving.
Behind her, the cracking grew louder. She could feel the air in the room shift as the mirror began to shatter. Each piece that fell to the floor seemed to suck the light from the room, plunging it into darkness.
Mia turned back toward the mirror just as the last piece fell, revealing a gaping, inky void where her reflection had been. The figures on the other side were gone, but the darkness that remained felt alive, pulsating with a menacing energy.
And then, from the depths of the void, a hand emerged.
It was pale, bony, and unnaturally long. The fingers twitched as they gripped the edge of the mirror, pulling the rest of the figure into the room.
Mia’s breath caught in her throat as the creature stepped through the shattered remains of the mirror. It was taller than any human should be, its limbs too long, its movements too fluid. Its face was blank, featureless, save for two deep, sunken holes where its eyes should have been.
The creature moved with an unnatural grace, its head tilting to one side as it regarded Mia with silent interest.
“Stay away from me!” Mia screamed, backing into the far corner of the room. But the creature didn’t stop. It stepped closer, its fingers reaching out toward her.
Mia’s mind raced. She had no weapon, no escape. The walls felt like they were closing in, and the air was suffocating her. She pressed herself tighter against the wall, her heart hammering in her chest.
Just as the creature’s hand brushed against her skin, a loud bang echoed from somewhere in the house.
The creature froze, its head snapping toward the door—or rather, the wall where the door had once been. Its fingers retracted, and it slithered back toward the mirror, retreating into the void.
Before Mia could process what had happened, the wall to her left groaned, the sound of splintering wood cutting through the silence. The wall began to crumble, revealing a dark passageway hidden behind it.
Out of the shadows, a figure emerged.
Mia’s breath caught in her throat as she recognized the man who stepped through the broken wall.
It was her father.
The father who had disappeared when she was a child.
“Dad?” she whispered, her voice trembling. But something was wrong. His face was too pale, his eyes too hollow. He didn’t look at her—he looked through her, as though she wasn’t really there.
“Run,” he said, his voice low and strained. “You need to run now.”
Before she could move, before she could even ask how this was possible, the passage behind him filled with shadow. Dark, writhing figures began to emerge, their forms shifting and twisting in unnatural ways.
Her father’s eyes locked onto hers for the briefest moment.
“Don’t let them take you, Mia. Run.”
Mia’s feet felt like they were glued to the ground. She stared at her father, disbelief and confusion crashing through her mind like waves in a storm. He stood in the passageway, illuminated only by the faint flicker of the lamp behind her. His face was drawn and gaunt, his eyes dark wells of exhaustion and fear, yet there was something deeply familiar about him—the warmth of his presence that she remembered from childhood, now twisted by the years he had been missing.
“Run,” her father repeated, his voice hoarse, broken, and distant, as if it had traveled through lifetimes to reach her. Behind him, the shadows writhed, twisting into grotesque figures, slithering toward them with a slow, deliberate menace. The air in the hidden passage seemed to ripple with their approach, as if the darkness itself was alive.
“Dad?” Mia whispered again, her voice trembling. She wanted to run, to heed his warning, but something about seeing him after all these years kept her rooted to the spot. “How are you here? Where have you been? What’s happening?”
But her father didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped forward, into the dim light of the room, his face crumpling with sorrow. His eyes locked onto hers with an urgency she had never seen before, a desperation that sent shivers down her spine.
“I don’t have time to explain everything,” he said, his voice cracking. “But this place—this mansion—it’s not what it seems. They took me, Mia. They took me years ago. And now they’ve come for you.”
“Who?” Mia felt her throat tighten, panic clawing at her chest. “Who took you?”
Her father hesitated for a moment, his gaze darting to the writhing shadows now spilling into the room from the passage behind him. The figures moved slowly, but there was a terrifying precision to their movements, like predators toying with their prey.
“They’re not human,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “They’re something… older. Something that feeds off fear and memory. They’ve been trapped here for centuries, bound to this house. And they need someone to take their place.”
Mia shook her head, her heart pounding. “What are you talking about? This doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know it doesn’t,” he said, stepping closer. “But trust me. If you don’t leave now, they will trap you here just like they trapped me. You won’t even remember who you are. You’ll become like them—lost.”
Her mind raced, every word her father spoke sinking into her like a stone. The memories of her childhood had always been fuzzy—blurred at the edges, as if they had been deliberately erased. Was this what had happened to him? Had the mansion stolen his life, his identity, leaving behind nothing but this shell of a man?
But before she could respond, the shadows surged forward, their movements quick and aggressive now, as if sensing their prey slipping away. Mia’s father’s face twisted in fear as he turned to block their path.
“Go!” he shouted, his voice filled with urgency. “Run!”
But Mia couldn’t move. She watched in horror as the shadows lunged at him, their inky forms wrapping around his legs, pulling him back toward the darkness. He struggled, trying to push them away, but the more he fought, the deeper he sank into the void.
“No!” Mia screamed, her feet finally breaking free from their paralysis. She rushed forward, grabbing her father’s arm, trying to pull him back. But the shadows were too strong. They twisted around his body, dragging him deeper into the passageway.
“Let him go!” she cried, her voice cracking with desperation. She could feel the cold, unnatural pull of the shadows as they brushed against her skin, sending icy shivers through her entire body.
“Mia,” her father gasped, his voice barely audible now as the darkness closed in around him. “Listen to me. Find the key. It’s the only way to stop them. The key is—”
His voice was cut off as the shadows engulfed him completely, pulling him into the void.
Mia stood frozen, her arm still outstretched, grasping at the empty space where her father had just been. Her mind was spinning, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on her like a suffocating blanket. The key? What key? What had he been trying to tell her?
The shadows swirled in the passageway, their forms shifting and expanding, as if feeding off the despair that now filled the room. Mia stumbled back, her breathing ragged, her heart pounding in her chest.
She had to get out of here.
Without a second thought, she turned and bolted for the door, her feet pounding against the wooden floor. The walls of the mansion seemed to twist and warp around her, the house alive with the same malevolent force that had taken her father. Doors that had once led to familiar rooms were now gone, replaced by dead ends or long, winding corridors that seemed to stretch on forever.
Her footsteps echoed in the vast emptiness, and with every turn, she felt the shadows growing closer, creeping along the edges of her vision. The air was thick with their presence, the overwhelming sensation that they were watching her, waiting for her to fall.
Suddenly, she rounded a corner and skidded to a stop. There, at the end of the hallway, was a door she hadn’t seen before. It was small and unassuming, almost hidden in the shadows. But something about it drew her in.
Mia hesitated for a moment, her hand trembling as she reached for the handle. She didn’t know what lay beyond the door, but she knew she didn’t have a choice. Whatever was inside had to be better than what was chasing her.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room was small and cramped, barely large enough for her to stand. A single window, cracked and dirty, let in a sliver of moonlight that illuminated the dust swirling in the air. At the center of the room was a pedestal, and atop it sat an old, ornate box.
Mia’s heart skipped a beat. This had to be it. The key her father had mentioned. It had to be inside.
She crossed the room, her hands shaking as she reached for the box. It was heavier than it looked, the cold metal sending a chill through her fingers. She hesitated for a moment, her mind racing with the possibilities of what could be inside. What if it wasn’t a key? What if it was something worse?
But she didn’t have time to think. The shadows were closing in. She could feel them, pressing against the door, slithering through the cracks in the walls.
With a deep breath, Mia lifted the lid.
Inside, nestled in a bed of red velvet, was a small, intricately designed key. It was old, its metal tarnished and worn with age, but there was something unmistakably powerful about it. She didn’t know how, but she knew this was the key her father had spoken of.
Her fingers closed around it just as the door behind her burst open.
The shadows flooded into the room, their cold, inky tendrils wrapping around the walls, the floor, the air itself. Mia clutched the key tightly, her pulse racing, as the figures materialized from the darkness, their hollow eyes fixed on her.
But before she could react, the box beneath her hand suddenly shifted. The pedestal it rested on began to sink into the floor, revealing a hidden passageway beneath.
Without thinking, Mia leaped into the opening, her heart pounding in her chest as she fell into the unknown. The darkness swallowed her whole, but she held onto the key like her life depended on it.
And then, with a deafening crash, she landed.
The world around her was silent, save for the distant hum of something ancient, something alive. Mia pushed herself to her feet, her body aching from the fall. She looked around, but all she could see were endless shadows stretching out in every direction.
But this was different. The air here was heavy with a strange energy, a sense of foreboding that made her skin crawl.
And then she heard it—a voice, distant but unmistakable.
“Mia…”
It was her father’s voice, faint and echoing through the darkness. But there was something wrong. It didn’t sound like the man she had just seen. It was colder, more twisted, filled with an unnatural malice.
She turned, her heart racing as she strained to see where the voice was coming from. But all she saw were shadows—shadows that began to move, taking shape, forming into figures that towered over her.
The largest of them stepped forward, its hollow eyes locking onto hers.
“You can’t run from us, Mia,” it whispered, its voice sending chills down her spine. “The key isn’t for your freedom. It’s for your submission.”
And then, the ground beneath her began to crack, the shadows seeping up from the earth like dark, poisonous tendrils, pulling her down into the abyss.
Mia felt the ground cracking beneath her, the jagged lines splitting the earth apart like a glass shattered by an unseen force. The dark, malevolent tendrils twisted up from the cracks, reaching out for her like fingers of doom. Her heart pounded in her chest as she clutched the key tighter, the only thing grounding her to reality.
But reality was slipping away.
“You can’t escape us, Mia,” the shadowed figure hissed, its voice as ancient as the void, deep and cold, filling the air like a bitter wind. “You think that key will save you, but it is your curse.”
Mia staggered back, the weight of the words hitting her like a punch to the gut. She could feel it in her bones—an unshakable truth buried deep within her soul. But she couldn’t give in to the fear. She couldn’t let these creatures win. Her father had sacrificed himself for this key, for her to have a chance at freedom. It had to mean something.
“Leave me alone!” she screamed, her voice raw with desperation. She held the key out in front of her as if it could ward off the growing mass of shadows swirling around her feet, rising like a tide of darkness. “You can’t have me!”
The shadow figure laughed—a deep, guttural sound that rattled the very air. It took a step closer, its form solidifying into a grotesque parody of a man, towering over her. Its eyes were hollow pits, but within them, Mia saw something worse than emptiness. She saw all the souls it had devoured—faces twisted in agony, screaming silently from the depths of its blackened gaze.
“You’re already ours, child,” it whispered. “You’ve always been ours.”
Mia stumbled, her knees threatening to buckle under the weight of the terror pressing down on her. The shadows coiled around her legs, cold and suffocating, pulling her deeper into the abyss. But she wasn’t ready to give up—not yet. Her father’s voice echoed in her mind, fragmented and faint, but clear enough to push her forward.
“The key… the only way… stop them…”
Her fingers tightened around the key, its metal burning against her palm as if it was alive with some hidden energy. She didn’t know what to do, but she trusted the key. She had to. Without another thought, Mia raised the key high above her head, her voice trembling as she called out to the shadows.
“If this is what you want, then take it!”
The shadow figure halted, its head tilting in a grotesque, unnatural way as it regarded the key in her hand. The tendrils around her legs loosened, almost as if they were waiting, watching.
“This key… it binds you, doesn’t it?” Mia’s voice shook, but she forced herself to keep speaking. “It’s the reason you’re trapped here.”
The figure let out a low growl, the sound reverberating through the space around them, making the air thick with tension. Mia’s heart raced, her mind whirling with fragments of the truth she had been piecing together since her father had first appeared. The key wasn’t just the answer to the curse—it was the curse itself. It was what tethered the shadows to the mansion, binding them to the place and to those unlucky enough to cross their path.
But as that realization hit her, so did something far darker.
The key wasn’t just for the shadows.
It was for her.
The figure stepped forward, its voice a low rumble that vibrated through the ground. “You’re clever, child. But not clever enough.”
Before Mia could react, the key in her hand began to pulse, the heat intensifying until it felt like molten metal against her skin. She cried out, dropping it to the ground, but the key didn’t fall. Instead, it hovered, suspended in mid-air, glowing with an eerie red light.
The shadows closed in, their tendrils wrapping tighter around Mia’s legs, pulling her toward the key. She struggled, her muscles burning as she tried to free herself, but it was no use. The pull was too strong.
“No!” she screamed, her voice breaking. “I won’t let you take me!”
But it was too late.
The key pulsed again, and suddenly, the world around her shifted. The walls of the mansion began to melt away, replaced by an endless sea of darkness. Mia gasped, spinning around in a panic, but there was nothing—just shadows stretching out as far as the eye could see.
And in the center of it all stood the figure. Its hollow eyes locked onto hers, and a twisted grin spread across its face.
“You see now, don’t you?” it whispered. “You were never meant to escape. The key was never for your freedom. It was for your fate.”
Mia’s chest heaved with shallow, ragged breaths as the truth crashed over her like a wave of despair. She wasn’t meant to break the curse. She was meant to become part of it. The mansion hadn’t chosen her by accident—it had been waiting for her, waiting for the moment she would take her place among the shadows.
Tears welled in her eyes as the tendrils coiled around her arms, her torso, pulling her deeper into the void. Her body felt heavy, numb, as if the darkness itself was seeping into her very soul. The figure’s laughter echoed in her ears, a haunting, mocking sound that sent chills down her spine.
“You will serve us, just like the others before you,” it whispered. “You will feed the darkness.”
Mia’s vision blurred, the shadows pressing in on all sides. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat slower than the last. She felt herself slipping, her mind unraveling as the darkness consumed her. The faces she had seen in the figure’s eyes—the souls trapped within—flashed before her, their silent screams filling her with a bone-deep terror.
And then, with a final pulse of energy, the key exploded, sending out a shockwave that rattled the very fabric of reality. The shadows surged forward, engulfing Mia completely, pulling her into the depths of the void.
For a moment, everything went still. Silent. Empty.
Then Mia opened her eyes.
But she wasn’t Mia anymore.
The world around her had shifted again, but this time it wasn’t the mansion. It was a void—an endless expanse of darkness where nothing existed but her and the shadows. She stood in the center of it all, her body no longer her own. Her skin felt cold, her movements stiff, as if she were nothing more than a puppet on strings.
The figure stood before her, watching with those same hollow eyes, its grin wider now, more sinister.
“Welcome home,” it said, its voice dripping with malice. “You are one of us now.”
Mia tried to speak, to scream, but no sound came out. Her body moved on its own, stepping forward toward the figure, her limbs jerky and unnatural. The darkness coiled around her, seeping into her veins, twisting her mind until she could no longer tell where she ended and the shadows began.
And then, in one horrifying moment, Mia realized the truth.
She wasn’t trapped in the mansion.
She was in the mansion.
The souls of those who had come before her, the ones who had been consumed by the shadows, were all part of it—part of the endless cycle that bound them to the place for eternity. And now she was too.
The figure laughed again, its voice echoing through the void, and Mia felt herself sinking deeper into the darkness, her mind fracturing, her identity slipping away. The last remnants of who she had been—her memories, her emotions, her very essence—were swallowed by the void, leaving behind nothing but a hollow shell.
A shell that would wait for the next unfortunate soul to stumble into the mansion’s trap.
The shadows writhed around her, and Mia—no longer Mia—stood at the center of it all, her hollow eyes watching, waiting.
And the mansion stood silent once more.