Whispering Glass
The House with Secrets
Elise didn’t know what to expect when she inherited her Aunt Marion’s Victorian house, a crumbling relic in a quiet New England town. She was fresh off a divorce and desperate for a change. Living rent-free for a year in exchange for keeping the property seemed like a gift—until the whispers began.
The house was charming but odd. Each room seemed locked in time, filled with Marion’s peculiar collections: porcelain dolls, dusty books, and, most unsettlingly, mirrors. The mirrors were everywhere—on walls, atop dressers, even leaning against corners. They reflected the house’s gloom with an unnerving clarity.
The first night, Elise dismissed the faint murmurs as wind slipping through warped windows. But the whispers grew louder, seeping into her dreams, pulling her awake with an urgency that sent chills crawling over her skin.
The Curse of the Whispering Glass
By the fourth night, Elise was convinced the whispers weren’t her imagination. They echoed from every reflective surface, calling her name, begging for release.
“Elise… let me out,” the voice murmured one evening, as she stood frozen before the bathroom mirror.
She covered the mirrors with sheets and towels, desperate to silence them. But the whispers only grew more insistent, bleeding into her mind like poison.
Determined to uncover the truth, Elise visited the town’s library. The librarian froze when Elise mentioned the house.
“You’re in Marion’s place?” she asked. “That’s… quite the inheritance. Strange woman, your aunt. Always tinkering with her mirrors, calling them the Whispering Glass. Folks said she was looking for something—something beyond this world.”
The librarian explained that Marion had commissioned a custom scrying mirror, a tool used to communicate with spirits. “But scrying is dangerous,” the librarian warned. “Some believe it can open doorways to things best left alone.”
The Shadow Behind the Glass
That night, Elise couldn’t resist. Armed with a bottle of wine and trembling curiosity, she uncovered the largest mirror in the house. The massive floor mirror stood framed in dark wood carved with looping, sinister patterns. Its surface seemed alive, shimmering with an unnatural sheen.
As Elise stared into its depths, the whisper returned—no longer faint, but commanding.
“Elise, I’m trapped. Free me.”
Her breath hitched. The voice was deep, smooth, and hauntingly familiar. Her hand hovered over the mirror’s surface.
“How?” she asked.
“Shatter the glass. Break it, and I’ll be free.”
A chill crawled down her spine. She wanted to walk away, but her fingers tightened around the poker she had fetched from the fireplace. Before she could think, she swung.
The glass shattered with a sound that wasn’t just noise—it was a scream. Shards exploded outward, slicing the air. For a moment, silence swallowed the house. Then came the laughter.
A Door Opened
The room plunged into darkness. A cold wind howled, pulling at Elise’s hair and clothes. She turned to run, but the laughter followed her, filling every shadow. The shattered mirror’s remains shimmered with an unholy light, and from the depths of the darkness stepped… something.
It was massive, its form shifting and indistinct, but its eyes burned red, locking onto hers. Its jagged mouth stretched into a grin.
“You freed me,” it rumbled, a voice like thunder.
Elise staggered back, her heart pounding. The figure loomed closer, impossibly large, yet moving with unnatural grace. Every surface in the room began to reflect its horrifying visage—multiple eyes, twisting limbs, a grotesque mimicry of form.
She screamed, running through the house as the shadows chased her, laughter echoing from every reflective surface.
The House Left Empty
By morning, the house stood silent. Neighbors reported hearing a scream in the night but dismissed it as the wind. When they finally entered the home days later, they found shattered glass everywhere but no sign of Elise.
The house remains empty to this day. Local legends tell of the Whispering Glass, a cursed mirror that trapped souls and released something far worse. On quiet nights, passersby claim to hear whispers and see faint red eyes glowing from the windows.
“Elise,” the whispers say. “Let me out.”
Lessons from the Whispering Glass
The story of the Whispering Glass serves as a chilling reminder: some doors should never be opened, no matter how tempting the invitation. Elise’s fate remains a mystery, but one thing is certain—what she unleashed still lingers, waiting for its next victim.
Takeaways
- Curiosity has consequences. Elise’s desire for answers led her to meddle with forces beyond her comprehension.
- Beware of inherited secrets. The house wasn’t just a gift; it was a trap.
- Never trust whispers from the dark.
Would you dare uncover the secrets of the Whispering Glass?
