Iris suddenly opened her eyes.

The banging had woken her up again.

She glanced at the luminous hands of the clock on her wall. It was 3:30 a.m.

The banging sounded again, jolting her. Wrapping a shawl around herself, she got out of bed. Iris couldn’t stand this any longer.

She walked to the end of the corridor and climbed the flight of stairs to the second floor, stopping outside the locked door.

Iris paused, her hand suspended mid-air.

Her landlady’s voice echoed in her head, “Whatever you do, never open this door. It’s been locked for generations, and we want to keep it that way,”

Despite her questions, the landlady had flatly refused to give any details.

Iris placed her hand on the doorknob. It quivered under her touch – as though warning her not to enter. She bent down, placing her ear next to the keyhole. Ghastly whispers sounded from the other side.

Thoughts raced in her brain. Should she?

A sudden banging sounded from the other side of the door.

Iris shuddered and took a deep breath.

Gathering her courage, she turned the knob and pushed. The door shuddered, and much to her surprise, opened by an inch. Iris could have sworn it had been locked a few hours ago when she’d tried to open it. Was there somebody else with her in the house? Or did the door automatically open during the dead of the night?

A sudden whisper emerged from the darkness within. Iris wrapped the shawl tightly around herself, listening beyond the deafening silence.

Nothing.

Iris placed her palm on the door. The wood turned icy beneath her hand.

Iris pushed open the door.

Expecting clouds of dust, she instinctively raised the shawl to cover her nose and mouth. She glanced in as the door swung creakily on its hinges, half expecting something – or someone – to jump out.

Light streamed into the room. Iris paused, her landlady’s voice ringing in her ears.

Taking a deep breath, she cautiously stepped in. The room was surprisingly clean – not a single speck of dust. As her eyes adjusted to the lighting, Iris realized the room had been stripped empty, save for a tall, antique mirror placed in the center.

Cautious, Iris walked over to the mirror. She gingerly ran her fingers over the intricate designs on the border, mindlessly inhaling the fresh scent of lavender. For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine why such a beautiful piece had been locked in years, nor where the banging sounds emitted from.

The door suddenly shut with a deafening bang, plunging Iris into pitch-black darkness. Whipping her head around, she distinctly heard the bolt sliding into place.

An icy finger ran down her spine as a whisper sounded.

Panting, Iris slowly turned her head back toward the mirror.

A soft white glow now emitted from its surface.

Curious, Iris battled the thoughts in her head and moved a step closer to the mirror. For the first time, she noticed her reflection.

As she stared at it, the reflection began to change.

A creepy smile started forming on its face as the reflection brought its hand forward.

Iris suddenly felt the room close in on her as panic rose in her chest.

Her heart skipped a beat as she saw the shining object in the reflection’s hand.

A knife. Dripping with blood.

Iris gulped.

With a sudden burst of energy, the reflection struck out. The surface of the mirror melted, allowing the bloody knife to protrude, stopping inches away from Iris’s neck.

Iris stood rooted to the spot, breathing in uneven bursts.

As Iris watched, the reflection mouthed,

“It’s time,”