The door creaked shut behind them, the old hinges groaning like a warning. Ghost set his bag down, eyes scanning their hotel room—heavy velvet curtains, an antique dresser, and that massive mirror hanging on the wall, reflecting the dim, flickering light. The air felt thick, almost suffocating, and the cold crept in like a living thing.

You stepped toward the window, your breath fogging the glass as you stared out into the black void of the mountains. “You really think it’s haunted?”

Ghost didn’t answer right away, his eyes lingering on the mirror. It felt like it was watching them. He shook his head and muttered, more to himself than her. “Just an old building… nothing here.”

The lights flickered suddenly, plunging the room into complete darkness. You gasped, your hand instinctively gripping his arm. When the lights buzzed back on, something was different—the mirror was cracked. Neither of you had heard it break.

Ghost’s pulse quickened as the temperature plummeted. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to shift, as if something unseen was watching. “Stay close.”

But the air had changed—it felt colder, heavier, almost suffocating. A knock echoed, and as you both turned toward the sound, the lights cut out completely, leaving you in the pitch-black room.

The faintest whisper brushed past your ear.