Blackwood Academy

The sweeter the little girl's smile in the mirror, the colder the air in the foyer became.

Eli felt a chill shoot straight from his heels to the top of his skull. He grabbed Junior and hauled him behind his back, his grip tightening on the folding knife in his pocket, his eyes locked on the mirror. The little girl couldn't have been more than seven or eight, with golden curls and a deathly pale face, wearing a spotless white dress, holding a ragged doll with one eye missing. She stood in the mirrored hall, separated from them by only a thin sheet of glass, her smile growing wider, more warped, with every passing second.

In the real world, the hall directly in front of the mirror was completely, utterly empty.

"It's... it's the little girl from the painting!" Junior's voice cracked with a sob, his fingers twisted in the back of Eli's shirt. "That's Emily Black!"

Leah lifted her camera and snapped a photo. The flash fired, and the little girl vanished in an instant. When the light faded, the mirror only showed their own reflections, and the empty hall behind them. As if she had never been there at all.

"She's gone..." Irene's voice shook, and she stepped back, pressing herself tight to the group.

Eli's gaze never left the mirror, the line from the journal screaming in his head: It's in the mirror. Don't look in the mirror.

"Everyone, look away from the mirror, now!" Eli barked, his voice sharp and urgent. "Don't stare at it! Don't make eye contact with whatever's in there!"

Leah and Irene snapped their heads away at once, squeezing their eyes shut. Junior clapped both hands over his face, dropping to a crouch, his body shaking like a leaf.

That's when a snarl came from the top of the stairs. "Goddammit, you pussies. A beat-up mirror's got you shaking in your boots?"

Kane stormed down the stairs with Tucker and Rex on his heels, clearly drawn by the screaming. When he saw the massive mirror, he let out a scoffing laugh, completely ignoring Eli's warning.

"Boss, there was a little girl in there. It was messed up," Tucker said quickly, his voice tight with fear.

"Bullshit. It's all in your heads." Kane sneered. He'd run the streets for over a decade, done every brutal thing imaginable, and he didn't believe in ghosts. He stared at the mirror, his eyes hardening with mean-spirited defiance. "I'm gonna see what the hell's in here playing dress-up."

He spun around, hefted a heavy solid wood chair over his head, and hurled it straight at the mirror.

"NO!" Eli yelled, lunging to stop him, but it was too late.

A deafening crash split the air.

The chair slammed into the glass, and the massive mirror shattered into a thousand shards, spraying across the entire foyer floor.

The second the glass broke, a high, cold, childish laugh exploded through the room.

It was everywhere, coming from every direction, burrowing into their ears and making their skin crawl. Then, in every single shard of glass scattered across the floor, the little girl in the white dress appeared. Hundreds of her, in hundreds of shards, all staring back at them with that same twisted smile.

"Shit!" Eli's stomach dropped.

That's when Tucker, standing closest to the broken glass, let out a bloodcurdling scream.

The group spun around. A pale, ice-cold little hand had shot out of a shard of glass at Tucker's feet, clamping down hard on his ankle. Then another, and another-dozens of tiny hands burst from the shards around him, grabbing his arms, his legs, his waist, pinning him to the floor completely immobile.

Tucker thrashed wildly, swinging his dagger at the hands, but the blade sliced right through them like they were thin air.

"BOSS! HELP ME! BOSS!" Tucker screamed, his eyes wide with absolute, terminal terror.

Kane's face went white, and he lunged to help, but it was too late.

The little girl from the mirror crawled out of the largest, unbroken shard of glass. Her body moved like it had no bones, squeezing through the thin sheet of glass, her white dress stained with black, dried blood, her empty eye sockets glowing with sick, red light, her mouth still stretched into that sickly sweet smile.

She stepped slowly toward Tucker, lifting a tiny hand, and pressed it gently to his forehead.

Tucker's scream cut off mid-shriek.

His body shriveled up right in front of their eyes, his skin turning gray and tight against his bones, his eyes sinking deep into his skull, every drop of blood and flesh sucked out of him in the span of three seconds. The 6-foot tall, muscular man collapsed to the floor as a desiccated, mummified husk, dead before he hit the ground.

The wristband on his arm vanished, and the 5 credits on his screen split automatically between Kane and Rex's bands.

The little girl pulled her hand back, turning her empty gaze to the rest of the group, her smile growing wider.

"CLOSE YOUR EYES! EVERYONE, CLOSE YOUR EYES NOW!" Eli yelled, slamming his own eyes shut.

Leah, Irene, and Junior squeezed their eyes shut so tight their faces hurt. Kane and Rex, broken by what they'd just seen, did the same, pressing their backs together, their daggers shaking in their hands.

The foyer fell dead silent, save for their ragged, panicked breathing.

The little girl's laugh started up again, right in their ears, first on their left, then their right, then right behind their necks. Icy breath brushed against their skin, like someone was breathing down their spines, but no one dared open their eyes. No one dared move an inch.

Eli's mind raced.

The journal had said It's in the mirror. Don't look in the mirror.She'd been trapped in the mirror until Kane smashed it, until he looked right at her. She hadn't attacked until they made eye contact. She'd killed Tucker only after he'd stared at her in the glass. And after he died, she hadn't attacked anyone else-she'd just circled them, until they closed their eyes.

Her attacks relied on eye contact.

That was the rule. The spirit could only attack if she locked eyes with you through the mirror. If you didn't look at her, if you didn't make eye contact, she couldn't hurt you.

Eli took a deep breath, forcing his voice steady and sharp. "Everyone listen! The spirit's attack rule is eye contact! As long as we keep our eyes closed, don't look at her, don't lock eyes, she can't hurt us! Do NOT open your eyes!"

The second he finished speaking, the little girl's laugh turned sharp and furious, echoing wildly through the foyer. The icy cold in the room grew thicker, but she never made another move to attack.

The group let out the smallest, shakiest breath, still holding their eyes shut, frozen in place, terrified that one wrong move would end with them like Tucker.

Minutes ticked by. The girl's laugh faded, and the icy cold in the room slowly lifted. The foyer fell silent again, save for their breathing.

After another ten minutes, when Eli was sure the room was completely empty, he spoke in a low, tight voice. "I'm gonna count to three. We open our eyes slow. Remember: do NOT look at the glass on the floor. One. Two. Three."

They all opened their eyes, slow and careful.

The foyer was empty. The little girl was gone. Only the shattered glass across the floor, and Tucker's desiccated body, remained to prove it hadn't been a hallucination.

Rex collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, his face covered in cold sweat, his eyes wide with the terror of someone who'd just barely escaped death. Kane leaned against the wall, his face white as a sheet, his dagger still shaking in his hand, all his earlier arrogance gone.

"Thank you," Leah looked at Eli, her voice thick with leftover terror. "If you hadn't figured that out, we'd all be dead right now."

Eli shook his head, his brow still furrowed. He knew this was only the beginning. There was more than one spirit trapped in this house.

That's when they heard heavy footsteps from upstairs.

Thud... thud... thud...

The footsteps were massive, each one shaking the stairs, as if something unbelievably heavy was walking down toward them. The sound grew closer, thick with the overwhelming stench of blood, heading straight for the foyer.

Every single person froze, holding their breath, and snapped their heads toward the top of the stairs.

Eli's pupils blew wide.

From the shadows at the top of the stairs, a towering, 7-foot-tall shadow stepped slowly into view. He wore a butcher's apron caked in black, dried blood, and in his hand he gripped a massive axe, its blade glinting with cold steel and slick with fresh blood and bits of flesh. His face was crisscrossed with savage scars, and his eyes held nothing human-only cold, murderous rage, locked dead onto every single person in the hall.