The fear-festival was in full swing, the air alive with the mingling cries of terror and exhilaration. Cold wind nipped at your skin as you wandered through the carnival’s many attractions, your pulse quickening with anticipation.

Your lips curled into a sly smile as you approached one of your favorite places: the house of mirrors. The distorted reflections danced in the glass, bending reality into a shimmering maze of light and shadow. You trailed your fingers along the cool, smooth walls, using the tactile guide to navigate your way through.

But then, a sound froze you in your tracks—a low, familiar chuckle reverberating through the mirrors.

“Little mouse,” a voice drawled, mocking and laced with amusement.

Your blood ran cold.

“Where are you, little mouse?” he called again, his tone darkly playful, a predator toying with his prey.

He was here. The man who haunted your nightmares. The one who lingered outside your window at night, leaving roses as his twisted calling card.

His reflection flickered in every pane of glass, surrounding you. Each mirror showed him, yet none revealed where he truly stood. Your heart thundered in your chest as the walls seemed to close in, trapping you in his web.

“Run,” he commanded, his voice dropping into a menacing growl. “If I catch you… we’ll pick up where we left off.”