Episode-2

Chapter Two: The Locked Door

Aayna’s breath hitched as she pulled the blanket closer, the echo of crashing glass still ringing in her ears. She jumped out of bed, her bare feet hitting the cold floor as she moved toward the door. Every step felt heavier than the last. In the hallway, silence had returned—but it was the kind that made your skin prickle.

She peeked out.

Nothing.

Just that long corridor of antique wood, old paintings, and quiet dread. But then, she saw it—Room 9’s door was open.

She remembered what the caretaker had said:

"That room hasn’t been used in years."

And yet now, it stood wide open.

Compelled by something she couldn’t explain, Aayna stepped into the hallway, heart racing. As she approached Room 9, the air grew colder, heavier. The chandelier above flickered softly as if the house itself was holding its breath.

She pushed the door gently. It creaked open.

Inside, moonlight spilled through a sheer curtain, casting silvery shadows on the dusty floor. The room was surprisingly clean, like someone had just left minutes ago. A chair near the window was pulled out, and a faint scent of lavender lingered in the air.

Then she saw him.

The boy from the mirror.

He was sitting on the windowsill, one leg dangling casually, the other propped up. His eyes met hers without hesitation, as if he had been waiting.

“You took longer than I thought,” he said.

Aayna took a step back. “Who... who are you?”

“I already told you,” he said, voice calm, “My name’s Krish.”

“No,” she said, her voice trembling, “You were in the mirror. You aren’t supposed to exist.”

Krish tilted his head. “Maybe neither are you.”

His words hit her like a wave, strange and unsettling.

“What do you mean by that?” she whispered.

He stood up and walked toward her, not in a threatening way, but slowly, almost carefully. “You’re not here by accident, Aayna. The house… the mirror… it chose you.”

“I don’t understand…”

“You will. Soon.” He paused. “The mirror doesn’t show the future. It shows the truth—hidden truths, forgotten ones. But sometimes... it lies.”

Her eyes searched his face. He looked young, like her—maybe a year or two older. But there was something in his gaze, something ancient. Broken.

“Are you…” She hesitated, unsure how to ask it. “Are you alive?”

His smile was gentle but sad. “Define alive.”

Before she could speak again, a loud knock echoed from downstairs. Both of them turned toward the sound.

BANG.

Then another.

BANG.

The front door.

“Don’t open it,” Krish said suddenly, grabbing her wrist. “Whatever you do, don’t go down there.”

“But what if it’s—”

“Trust me.” His voice was firm now. “That’s not someone knocking. It’s something.”

Aayna’s heart hammered in her chest.

She wanted to run, scream, wake up from whatever this was. But deep down… she knew she wasn’t dreaming.

Krish let go of her wrist, but his eyes held hers. “There are rules in this house. Rule number one: never open the mirror at night. Rule number two: never answer the door after midnight. And rule number three…” he paused, voice low, “Don’t fall in love with someone who isn’t real.”

She didn’t respond. Couldn’t.

The knock downstairs came one last time.

Then silence.

And then—faintly—from the mirror in her own room, came a whisper.

“She’s not the first… but she must be the last.”

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