The Scarehouse < 2K 2027 >

Elias turned to run, but the door he had entered through was gone. In its place was a mirror. The thirteenth mirror. Inside the glass, his reflection wasn't running. It was standing perfectly still, smiling, and holding a ring of keys that Elias realized were no longer in his own pocket.

The rusted sign above the gate groaned in the wind, its peeling paint barely spelling out The Scarehouse . For thirty years, it had been the town’s premier October attraction—a maze of plywood walls, strobe lights, and teenagers in cheap rubber masks. The Scarehouse

The Scarehouse had finally found its permanent "cast member." Elias turned to run, but the door he

He stepped inside, his flashlight beam cutting through the artificial fog. The bed was empty. The animatronic was slumped in the corner, its power cord unplugged. Yet, the blankets were warm. On the nightstand sat a glass of water, still bubbling slightly, as if someone had just set it down. "Is someone there?" Elias called out, his voice shaking. Inside the glass, his reflection wasn't running

The Scarehouse wasn't just a haunt; it was a predator. It fed on the screams of the customers, but during the off-season, it got hungry. It grew new rooms to lure the curious. It mimicked the sounds of life to bring the watchman closer.

But Elias, the night watchman, knew the secret of the Scarehouse: it was much larger on the inside than the outside.

It started in the "Hall of Mirrors." Every year, the workers set up twelve mirrors. Every year, Elias counted thirteen. The thirteenth mirror didn't show the dusty floor or the flickering neon; it showed a version of the hallway that looked cleaner, newer, and occupied by a figure that never moved when Elias did.