The Mansion Where Mirrors Lie

A VrThtbox song :)) Trying new experiences... ---Put on headphones :)) --- Her phone rings at midnight—an unknown voice whispers, “Come.” Outside her window, headlights carve a path to the old mansion on the hill. Heart pounding, she follows the summons through iron gates and swirling fog. Every shadow seems to beckon: what waits inside? ( what waits inside?) Through halls where portraits seemed to sigh, The walls themselves began to lie. A distant piano struck a ghostly chord, Each step she took, the darkness roared. She faced the mirror, cold and wide, Her reflection grinned—the living died. Bone fingers brushed her frozen breath, The glass revealed her truth: pure death. With a breath of smoke, her living form shatters against the marble floor. Her eyes snap open in the glass, empty hollows shining with purpose. The mansion exhales, content to have its new mistress of death. As the door clicks shut, her whisper drifts through the halls: “Your time is up.” “Your time is up.” (“Your time is up.”) Now in the mirror, eyes like stone, She calls the next to come alone. Will it be you? (Will it be you?) [end]