Member-only story
Reflections of Terror
The Haunting of Raven’s Hollow
An estate sale took place under the shade of an old oak tree in a cute town surrounded by rolling hills and babbling brooks. The air smelled like freshly cut grass and flowers in bloom.
An old mirror stood amongst the forgotten gems and dusty relics. Its surface sparkled with an eerie allure that drew people to it like moths to a flame.
With its ornately carved frame and worn patina, the mirror seemed to whisper secrets from a long time ago.
The glass surface held the images of many faces that were no longer there. People who were brave enough to look into its depths were sucked in by an enigmatic pull, as if they were being sucked into a trance by an invisible force.
At first, people in the town stood in front of the mirror and looked at their reflections for short periods of time out of interest.
Soon, though, their interest turned to something darker: a gnawing dread that pushed at the edges of their minds, pushing them to face the shadows that were there.
Every day that went by, the mirror’s grip got stronger, wrapping its swaying…
