The Scarehouse Instant

One rainy Tuesday, two weeks before opening, Elias heard a sound from the "Boogeyman’s Bedroom" exhibit. It wasn't the programmed mechanical wheeze of the animatronic; it was a soft, rhythmic humming.

Elias turned to run, but the door he had entered through was gone. In its place was a mirror. The thirteenth mirror. Inside the glass, his reflection wasn't running. It was standing perfectly still, smiling, and holding a ring of keys that Elias realized were no longer in his own pocket. The Scarehouse

It started in the "Hall of Mirrors." Every year, the workers set up twelve mirrors. Every year, Elias counted thirteen. The thirteenth mirror didn't show the dusty floor or the flickering neon; it showed a version of the hallway that looked cleaner, newer, and occupied by a figure that never moved when Elias did. One rainy Tuesday, two weeks before opening, Elias

But Elias, the night watchman, knew the secret of the Scarehouse: it was much larger on the inside than the outside. In its place was a mirror