Aiden's scream died in his throat as the flickering shadow behind him slowly dissolved into the dim air—like smoke fading into darkness. His back hit the cold wall, knees trembling, breath sharp and uneven.
For a moment, the room was silent again.
Almost too silent.
As if the whole building was holding its breath.
Aiden forced himself to stand upright, gripping the dusty bed frame for support. His heart thudded violently, but the instinct to survive pushed through his fear.
He needed to get out.
He grabbed the door handle again and twisted it with all the strength he had. It didn't budge. Nothing moved—not even a click.
Locked from the outside.
But that didn't make sense. No one had come.
Aiden stepped away, scanning the room in the dim light leaking through the cracked window. The mirror where the bloody handprint had appeared now looked perfectly clean—as if nothing had touched it at all.
But he knew what he saw.
And then he noticed something new.
A small wooden box sitting in the corner.
He was certain it hadn't been there a minute ago.
Aiden approached it cautiously. The box was old—its edges chipped, its lid slightly open. Dust circled around it, yet the box itself looked strangely untouched, like someone had placed it there today.
Or just now.
His fingers hesitated over the lid.
A sudden knock echoed from the other side of the door.
Aiden almost jumped out of his skin.
Another knock.
Harder this time.
Then a child's voice—soft, trembling:
"Aiden… open it."
He backed away from the door, shaking his head. "No. No, stay away."
The voice whispered again, closer now.
Almost as if it was right beside him.
"Please… open the box."
Aiden's breath caught.
The room felt colder.
His skin prickled.
With trembling hands, he lifted the lid.
Inside was a tiny silver bracelet—bent, scratched, and stained with something brown at the edges. Aiden lifted it slowly, and as he did, a slip of paper hidden underneath fluttered out.
He picked it up.
A single sentence was written in hurried handwriting:
"She never left Room 12."
A chill shot through Aiden's spine.
Before he could think, the air shifted behind him. He felt the faint sensation of someone small standing just over his shoulder… watching him.
Very slowly, Aiden turned his head.
In the mirror across the room, his reflection stared back.
But he wasn't alone.
A child's silhouette stood directly behind him—its outline faint, its body flickering as if reality itself struggled to hold it.
The figure lifted its hand.
Aiden's reflection copied him.
But the shadow… raised the opposite hand.
That meant—
It wasn't a reflection.
Aiden gasped and spun around—
Nothing.
The corner was empty.
Heart pounding, he turned back toward the mirror… and froze.
The child's shadow was now inside the mirror, pressed against the glass. Its face was blurred, its eyes dark smudges, but its tiny hands pounded gently… begging.
thud…
thud…
thud…
Aiden stumbled backward until his back hit the wall.
Suddenly the door to Room 12 clicked.
Unlocked.
Aiden didn't wait.
He sprinted out of the room, nearly tripping on the threshold. The corridor outside was colder than before, the lights flickering violently.
As he ran, a soft echo followed him—childlike footsteps pattering right behind his own.
He didn't dare look back.
He dashed around the corner and collapsed near the staircase, gasping for breath.
For a long moment, he sat still, listening.
Silence.
Then… a whisper drifted from the end of the corridor:
"Don't leave me again."
Aiden's blood ran cold.
He wasn't alone in that room.
And whatever was in Room 12…
wasn't staying there anymore.
[To be continued...]