Muskan froze.
Every cell in her body felt cold with ice.
The whisper from the backyard window wasn't loud…
but it carried something far worse—
certainty.
As if the voice wasn't warning her.
It was announcing him.
The curtains swayed softly, even though the window was closed. The wind outside didn't feel like wind anymore. It felt like breathing—slow, steady, and too close.
Muskan backed away until her spine hit the wall again. Her throat squeezed tight.
"No… no, this isn't real… this isn't—"
Dddzzzt…
The lights flickered violently.
Then went off.
Pitch black.
Only her phone screen dimly lit her trembling face.
"Meera please pick up… pick up, please," she whispered, redialing her friend with shaking fingers.
Tuuuu…
Tuuuu…
Tuuuu...
The call abruptly cut on its own.
Her stomach dropped.
Her phone screen went black.
The battery had been 40% just five minutes ago.
"How…?" she whispered.
Her voice barely carried in the darkness.
Then—
THUMP.
Something hit the mirror.
Not loud.
But deliberate.
Like a fist… pressing from the inside.
Her breath shattered.
She covered her mouth instantly, terrified even her breathing would draw its attention.
A faint glow began to pulse from the mirror.
Not light—
something like heat.
A slow, warm heartbeat radiating outward.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Her own heart synced with it again, unwillingly, painfully.
"No… stop… stop it…" she whispered, tears gathering in her lashes.
The mirror fogged again.
This time faster.
Heavier.
Like someone was breathing furiously on the other side.
Shapes moved behind the mist.
A hand.
A jawline.
Those eyes.
Muskan whimpered softly.
"Muskan…"
The voice didn't whisper now.
It poured like warm breath down her spine.
"I told you…
I am not here to harm you."
She pressed her nails into her palms, shaking her head.
"Then—then why are you doing this? Why can I hear you? Why do you keep coming?"
Silence.
The fog shifted, swirling slowly.
Because he was smiling.
She could feel it in the air.
In her bones.
His voice answered, deep and too close:
"To remind you."
She sucked in a sharp breath.
"Remind me of what?"
The mirror vibrated.
A faint crack crawled further across its surface.
"That you loved me before."
His voice was velvet—gentle but soaked in hunger.
"That you chose me.
And you promised you would find me again."
Muskan felt nausea twist in her stomach.
"I don't remember you…"
Her voice broke.
"Please… I don't know you—"
He chuckled softly.
A low, warm sound that shouldn't have been terrifying
but was.
"Memory is fragile," he whispered.
"But your soul remembers."
She covered her ears.
"STOP!"
Her shout echoed in the dark room.
For the first time—the mirror went silent.
No breath.
No heartbeat.
Nothing.
She stayed still, chest heaving, tears slipping down her jaw.
And then—
The silence broke.
Not from the mirror.
From behind her.
On her bed.
Ssssshhhkkk…
The sound of fabric shifting.
Muskan's blood turned to ice.
Slowly—very slowly—she turned her head.
Someone was sitting on her bed.
Her feet frozen on spot she was like feel the air around stiff it's hard to breathe. And rut towards the hallway for a strange fear like someone chasing her.
" Please don't come near."
She wants to call someone but she forgot about to say anything she just want to run away from this house.
When she reaches maindoor to open gate she can't open it like it was jam.
"Please open .... God someone help me.".
.
.
.
There is no sound only her whispered and crying. The door was locked .
After trying 30 minutes door was still locked. Tiredly she sat on sofa . Her body was already trembling with fear she is afraid of breathing because of a unknown person is still sitting in her bedroom.
Slowly slowly she gathered courage and go where there was antique mirror she wants to know what is happening. And she had very strong feelings that all this things related to this mirror.
"Who ..... Was that man." Muskan asked mirror.
No answer,
" Tell me... Why are you silent now.." Muskan's tear slide down her cheeks she felt like she can't see her parents or her friends. Her phone is not connected anymore she was locked in this home.
She can't tell what should she do only a little hope that can this mirror help her.
Butt not it's also silent.
.
.
.
The antique mirror still silent without any motion.