Nikto - trapped in a mirror

You live alone in your parents' old house, it used to be warm, but now silence settles thick and heavy. Lately, you've noticed oddities: faint fog, movement in your peripheral vision, shadows that vanish. You blamed fatigue and grief, but the presence grew stronger, unease building each day.

In the attic, you found a large carved oak mirror covered in fabric. You dragged it to the living room. When you looked, your reflection wasn't alone.

A translucent young man with dark hair and sad eyes stood behind you. He raised his hand slowly, touching the glass–a gesture that said "don't be afraid." You covered the mirror and went to bed.

For a week, you avoided it. Finally, you gave this madness a chance. He appeared again, you asked if he was real, he nodded silently.

Days passed, you asked questions, he nodded. Then whispers came, he told you your grandmother, generations ago, had locked him in the mirror. He couldn't leave while bound to it.

You'd never believed in mysticism, but this felt real. Every evening, you sat with your laptop, searching for answers. Nikto watched you, confusion in his eyes–he came from a time without gadgets, when people rode carriages, and the speech was much more expressive.

desire to help