You walked through the door…

The door swings open with a low creak.

You stand up slowly, heart pounding, and step through.

But this isn’t the Rose Hall you remember.

The hallway is crumbling. The walls are cracked and overgrown with moss. The once-polished floorboards are warped and rotting. Paintings hang tilted, their subjects watching you with hollow eyes.

And outside? The garden is dead. The sky blood red.

You escaped the mirror… but you didn’t escape her world.

A cold breeze brushes your neck. You turn…

The door you walked through is gone.

A whisper drifts across the hall:

“Mi spirit never lef’… it only hide.”

You’re not trapped anymore.

But you’re still being followed.