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Wait. That’s not my business. I am here for something else.

Evan’s gaze cut to the draped oval piece at the center of the room, its pristine white sheets void of even a speck of dust. The way all the mirrors were facing this object…it had to be somekind of a containment array to suppress whatever was behind the white sheet.

Whoever had locked that thing away in this room didn’t want it to escape.

That had to be the source of the cursed energy that was attracting the spirits into the mansion. But why was there not a single trace of malice on the object? According to Evan’s knowledge, the room should’ve been engulfed in suffocating dark energy emitted by the cursed object.

Was the containment spell so strong that not even a smidge of the energy could escape? If so, then the caster must’ve been someone powerful.

Throughout ancient times, mirrors were used in magic and exorcism, with good and bad intentions. But one thing common in both practices was its use for trapping spirits in the mirror realm, where time didn’t exist and a soul would be stuck living the same moment over and over again until released…or until the mirror was shattered and the spirit inside dissipated.

The hair at Evan’s nape spiked as a drop of cold sweat trickled down. Gingerly covering the distance, he reached for the white sheet, the light barrier glowing brighter than usual over his hand.

A slight tug on the cloth and it unfolded, revealing another oval mirror, bigger than any in the room, almost as tall as Evan.

Bigger and…stranger.

Strange because there was no reflection in it. The flashlight didn’t bounce back as Evan directed it towards the mirror. Instead, it seemed to swallow all light that fell onto the surface like a black hole.

Evan tilted his head, examining the mirror from a hand’s distance. Its surface was spotless, frame golden with miniature intricate designs. Thick golden chains coiled around the frame, not a trace of rust to be found.

It was indeed a bit strange, but other than lacking the basic function of what a mirror was supposed to do—show a reflection—there was nothing unusual. At least nothing Evan could immediately sense.

Could it be that the old weird Mr. Greene had been a collector of antique mirrors? Or maybe Evan was reading too much into something that wasn’t there?

Mirrors were portals between worlds. It was possible that the dark energies were trying to get inside the room to escape into the mirrors, but the array formation of these mirrors guarded this room against evil.

“Evan…”

Evan flinched, the sudden whisper sending a chill running down his spine. Crimson Eye warmed on his finger, turning completely black.

His lashes lowered, watching the shadows dancing around his feet. The trees above the glass panel in the ceiling swayed in a mysterious rhythm, casting figures on the floor that seemed agitated, alive.

“Evan…”

Not daring to move a muscle, Evan strained his ears. Responding to something he couldn’t see could lead to opening a channel he didn’t mean to open.

It was weird. Evan had come across similar situations in the past while facing off against malevolent spirits, the whispers and jump scares, and tactics to lure him into obvious traps. He’d been unfazed, almost bored, during those times. Then why was this particular time making him break out into goosebumps?

The distant whispers grazed his ear shell again in a haunting caress, like fingers grasping, nails digging. So alien, yet so familiar. As his ears strained, Evan soon caught the direction of the voices.

It was coming from inside the oval mirror.

Staring into the black void of the mirror, almost unconsciously, his fingers reached up, grazing the golden frame, over the miniature art that was starting to look a lot like ancient runes.

Who is it?

The mirror responded, whispering something he couldn’t decipher. But he felt it. The longing in that voice. Pain, so intense it clutched at Evan’s chest and clawed through his flesh, trying to reach his heart.

“Evan…”

Fingers curling tighter against the flashlight, Evan gritted his teeth through the throb in his heart. He bit down on his tongue as a ridiculously strong urge to respond to that voice rose within him.

It is trying to control my mind.

That had to be the reason he was physically out of his own control.

He bit down on his tongue until a metallic taste flooded his mouth when suddenly, a shadow moved inside the oval mirror.