Short Horror Stories

The mirror room

With the soft flickering light of my candle I look upon the dark oaken wood door in front of me, regretting my willingness to do something this stupid.

It is already dark outside, so the only light in the whole mansion is that of time.

I'm staying over at my nieces place, she recently moved here in this old mansion. Our family is quite wealthy, so this isn't anything too strange for us.

I arrived this morning by carriage, the road was too rigid for an automobile. With a full suitcase in hand, I was greeted by my relatives. I am staying here for a week after all.

My niece and I spend the whole day looking at every nook and cranny of the old mansion. It was definitely built by some very rich people and most likely during the renaissance. Even so the condition it was in was immaculate like it was dust proof, or perhaps they just happen to have a witch or wizard as their cleaner.

I was shown around and told stories about each room, but there was one room my niece really wanted to show me. The room she said was magical.

The mirror room.

Carefully I open the old door with my still free hand, trying to not make any noise and accidentally wake up my uncle and aunt. They can be quite strict and if I get found out we will surely be punished, though my niece probably more than me. But still I don't want her to get into trouble and it was me who accepted her challenge.

When the door gently creaks open, a soft breeze blows out my candle.

That's strange.

The windows are supposed to be closed here, in fear of thieves and burglars.

I'm sure my uncle closed them before.

How did they open?

I enter the room and as I gently close the door behind me, it gives the same soft creek, although in reverse this time.

My niece was right, even at night this is the room with the most light, not by candle of course, but by the stars outside. They shine into the many mirrors, reflecting the tiny lights, creating this ghostly light. I know she said magical, but I find it somewhat unsettling, especially the fact that all the windows have been opened somehow.

As I cautiously walk towards the first window to close it, I look at the ceiling. It has been beautifully ornamented by a painting of the stars and small renaissance angels. With the soft echoing of my footsteps behind me on the black and white tiled floor I think to myself: this building is almost a half-palace.

During the day when my niece showed me this room, she was very excited and told me all sorts of stories about it. Way too fast, honestly, I could only understand the part of it that it may or may not have been a ballroom once and that many lavish parties have been thrown here. When she first told me that this was her favorite place in the whole mansion I honestly thought that it might be because she could see herself in the mirror. She is rather prideful of her appearance, taking ages to get ready.

She told me about the music she sometimes hears from this room and the talking of many merry people. Although when she enters the room, no one is there.

I don't get scared easily and am secretly also a bit curious, so she decided that it would be my job to investigate.

I look around.

I think I can see why now, the reason why this is her favorite room.

It is a clear night, the silver moon shines almost as bright as the sun and I can see thousands of stars sparkling the night sky with its colorful dust.