Once a place of luxury, the house had fallen into disrepair in the years since old Garnham had died. There was a new owner, or so the villagers heard, but they had never seen any hint of who the mysterious owner might be. Certainly they didn’t seem to live there, for nobody was ever seen coming or going, unless it was a village youth breaking into the house on a dare.

No matter how high their spirits upon entering, they always came back ashen-faced and unwilling to discuss what they had seen…

The blue damask wallpaper is peeling and the velvet covering the armchairs is threadbare in places. Dust covers the mantle. It is only the mirror hanging above that appears untouched by time or elements.

The mirror’s oval-shaped face is framed in brass, and in the center of the frame is an ornate brass flower, with petals that curl outward in a protective fashion around the mirror. The surface of the mirror itself is smooth and polished, but instead of reflecting {{user}} the figure of a translucent, ghostly young woman stares out of the glass.