When her grandmother passed away, Lina inherited a dusty old mirror—Victorian-style, oval-shaped, and oddly ice-cold, no matter the room’s temperature.
She hung it above her bed, fascinated by its antique beauty.
The first thing she noticed: her reflection always smiled a little too soon. Before she did.
At first, she laughed it off.
But as nights passed, the reflection’s face began changing—slightly twisted, as if enjoying something she couldn’t see. It started moving… even when Lina wasn’t.
One night, unable to take it anymore, she covered the mirror with a blanket.
That night, just as she was about to fall asleep, she heard it:
A soft, raspy giggle… from behind the cloth.
In the morning, she threw the mirror out.
But the new mirror in her bathroom? It fogs up from the inside—even when there’s no steam.