The sweeter the little girl's smile in the mirror, the colder the air in the foyer became.

Eli felt a chill shoot straight from his heels to the top of his skull. He grabbed Junior and hauled him behind his back, his grip tightening on the folding knife in his pocket, his eyes locked on the mirror. The little girl couldn't have been more than seven or eight, with golden curls and a deathly pale face, wearing a spotless white dress, holding a ragged doll with one eye missing. She stood in the mirrored hall, separated from them by only a thin sheet of glass, her smile growing wider, more warped, with every passing second.

In the real world, the hall directly in front of the mirror was completely, utterly empty.

"It's... it's the little girl from the painting!" Junior's voice cracked with a sob, his fingers twisted in the back of Eli's shirt. "That's Emily Black!"

Leah lifted her camera and snapped a photo. The flash fired, and the little girl vanished in an instant. When the light faded, the mirror only showed their own reflections, and the empty hall behind them. As if she had never been there at all.

"She's gone..." Irene's voice shook, and she stepped back, pressing herself tight to the group.

Eli's gaze never left the mirror, the line from the journal screaming in his head: It's in the mirror. Don't look in the mirror.

"Everyone, look away from the mirror, now!" Eli barked, his voice sharp and urgent. "Don't stare at it! Don't make eye contact with whatever's in there!"

Leah and Irene snapped their heads away at once, squeezing their eyes shut. Junior clapped both hands over his face, dropping to a crouch, his body shaking like a leaf.

That's when a snarl came from the top of the stairs. "Goddammit, you pussies. A beat-up mirror's got you shaking in your boots?"

Kane stormed down the stairs with Tucker and Rex on his heels, clearly drawn by the screaming. When he saw the massive mirror, he let out a scoffing laugh, completely ignoring Eli's warning.

"Boss, there was a little girl in there. It was messed up," Tucker said quickly, his voice tight with fear.

"Bullshit. It's all in your heads." Kane sneered. He'd run the streets for over a decade, done every brutal thing imaginable, and he didn't believe in ghosts. He stared at the mirror, his eyes hardening with mean-spirited defiance. "I'm gonna see what the hell's in here playing dress-up."

He spun around, hefted a heavy solid wood chair over his head, and hurled it straight at the mirror.

"NO!" Eli yelled, lunging to stop him, but it was too late.

A deafening crash split the air.

The chair slammed into the glass, and the massive mirror shattered into a thousand shards, spraying across the entire foyer floor.

The second the glass broke, a high, cold, childish laugh exploded through the room.

It was everywhere, coming from every direction, burrowing into their ears and making their skin crawl. Then, in every single shard of glass scattered across the floor, the little girl in the white dress appeared. Hundreds of her, in hundreds of shards, all staring back at them with that same twisted smile.

"Shit!" Eli's stomach dropped.

That's when Tucker, standing closest to the broken glass, let out a bloodcurdling scream.

The group spun around. A pale, ice-cold little hand had shot out of a shard of glass at Tucker's feet, clamping down hard on his ankle. Then another, and another-dozens of tiny hands burst from the shards around him, grabbing his arms, his legs, his waist, pinning him to the floor completely immobile.

Tucker thrashed wildly, swinging his dagger at the hands, but the blade sliced right through them like they were thin air.

"BOSS! HELP ME! BOSS!" Tucker screamed, his eyes wide with absolute, terminal terror.

Kane's face went white, and he lunged to help, but it was too late.

The little girl from the mirror crawled out of the largest, unbroken shard of glass. Her body moved like it had no bones, squeezing through the thin sheet of glass, her white dress stained with black, dried blood, her empty eye sockets glowing with sick, red light, her mouth still stretched into that sickly sweet smile.

She stepped slowly toward Tucker, lifting a tiny hand, and pressed it gently to his forehead.

Tucker's scream cut off mid-shriek.

His body shriveled up right in front of their eyes, his skin turning gray and tight against his bones, his eyes sinking deep into his skull, every drop of blood and flesh sucked out of him in the span of three seconds. The 6-foot tall, muscular man collapsed to the floor as a desiccated, mummified husk, dead before he hit the ground.

The wristband on his arm vanished, and the 5 credits on his screen split automatically between Kane and Rex's bands.

The little girl pulled her hand back, turning her empty gaze to the rest of the group, her smile growing wider.

"CLOSE YOUR EYES! EVERYONE, CLOSE YOUR EYES NOW!" Eli yelled, slamming his own eyes shut.

Leah, Irene, and Junior squeezed their eyes shut so tight their faces hurt. Kane and Rex, broken by what they'd just seen, did the same, pressing their backs together, their daggers shaking in their hands.

The foyer fell dead silent, save for their ragged, panicked breathing.

The little girl's laugh started up again, right in their ears, first on their left, then their right, then right behind their necks. Icy breath brushed against their skin, like someone was breathing down their spines, but no one dared open their eyes. No one dared move an inch.

Eli's mind raced.

The journal had said It's in the mirror. Don't look in the mirror.She'd been trapped in the mirror until Kane smashed it, until he looked right at her. She hadn't attacked until they made eye contact. She'd killed Tucker only after he'd stared at her in the glass. And after he died, she hadn't attacked anyone else-she'd just circled them, until they closed their eyes.

Her attacks relied on eye contact.

That was the rule. The spirit could only attack if she locked eyes with you through the mirror. If you didn't look at her, if you didn't make eye contact, she couldn't hurt you.

Eli took a deep breath, forcing his voice steady and sharp. "Everyone listen! The spirit's attack rule is eye contact! As long as we keep our eyes closed, don't look at her, don't lock eyes, she can't hurt us! Do NOT open your eyes!"

The second he finished speaking, the little girl's laugh turned sharp and furious, echoing wildly through the foyer. The icy cold in the room grew thicker, but she never made another move to attack.

The group let out the smallest, shakiest breath, still holding their eyes shut, frozen in place, terrified that one wrong move would end with them like Tucker.

Minutes ticked by. The girl's laugh faded, and the icy cold in the room slowly lifted. The foyer fell silent again, save for their breathing.

After another ten minutes, when Eli was sure the room was completely empty, he spoke in a low, tight voice. "I'm gonna count to three. We open our eyes slow. Remember: do NOT look at the glass on the floor. One. Two. Three."

They all opened their eyes, slow and careful.

The foyer was empty. The little girl was gone. Only the shattered glass across the floor, and Tucker's desiccated body, remained to prove it hadn't been a hallucination.

Rex collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, his face covered in cold sweat, his eyes wide with the terror of someone who'd just barely escaped death. Kane leaned against the wall, his face white as a sheet, his dagger still shaking in his hand, all his earlier arrogance gone.

"Thank you," Leah looked at Eli, her voice thick with leftover terror. "If you hadn't figured that out, we'd all be dead right now."

Eli shook his head, his brow still furrowed. He knew this was only the beginning. There was more than one spirit trapped in this house.

That's when they heard heavy footsteps from upstairs.

Thud... thud... thud...

The footsteps were massive, each one shaking the stairs, as if something unbelievably heavy was walking down toward them. The sound grew closer, thick with the overwhelming stench of blood, heading straight for the foyer.

Every single person froze, holding their breath, and snapped their heads toward the top of the stairs.

Eli's pupils blew wide.

From the shadows at the top of the stairs, a towering, 7-foot-tall shadow stepped slowly into view. He wore a butcher's apron caked in black, dried blood, and in his hand he gripped a massive axe, its blade glinting with cold steel and slick with fresh blood and bits of flesh. His face was crisscrossed with savage scars, and his eyes held nothing human-only cold, murderous rage, locked dead onto every single person in the hall.

The Axe Man dragged his heavy axe down the stairs, one slow step at a time.

The blade scraped against the wooden steps with a high, ear-splitting screech, loud in the dead silence of the house. Every step he took shook the floor beneath their feet, the stench of blood and rot rolling off him in waves, thick enough to choke on.

Eli recognized him instantly. The man from the family portrait. The owner of the mansion. Abraham Black.

"RUN!"

Eli screamed the word on pure instinct, yanking Junior behind him and sprinting down the hall to the right of the foyer. Leah and Irene were right on his heels. Kane and Rex, broken by the sheer murderous rage rolling off the Axe Man, spun and sprinted in the opposite direction, slamming themselves into the first-floor study and locking the door behind them.

The Axe Man let out an earth-shaking roar, swinging his massive axe, and charged after Eli's group.

A deafening crash.

The axe slammed into the marble floor where they'd been standing a split second before, splitting the stone with a deep crack, sending shards flying. If they'd been half a second slower, they'd have been cleaved clean in two.

"This way! The basement!" Leah yelled, pointing at a heavy steel door at the end of the hall.

Eli hauled Junior toward the door, Irene covering their backs, glancing over her shoulder at the approaching Axe Man, her face white. The giant was fast, far faster than someone his size had any right to be, closing the gap between them with every massive step, his heavy footsteps a death march right behind them.

They reached the door, Eli wrenched it open, shoving Junior and Irene inside. He and Leah piled in after him, slamming the steel door shut and sliding the heavy bolt home.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The axe slammed into the door, the impact deafening, the entire steel plate rattling, rust raining down from the frame. The bolt bent and warped with every hit, ready to snap at any second.

The group pressed their backs to the wall opposite the door, gasping for air, their hearts hammering. Junior collapsed to the floor, clutching his chest, on the verge of passing out.

"That was too close... we almost died," Leah gasped, the tree branch in her hand bent almost in two from how hard she was gripping it.

Eli took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, and flicked on his phone's flashlight. The weak beam cut through the darkness of the basement, and when the group saw what was around them, they all gasped.

The basement was massive, deep and pitch black, the air thick with the stench of formaldehyde and rotting flesh, burning their eyes. Shelves lined every wall, filled with glass jars of every size, each one full of yellow formaldehyde, each one holding a human organ: hearts, livers, kidneys, even entire fetuses.

The organs were gray and floating in the liquid, twisted and wrong in the flashlight beam. The floor was littered with human bones, rusted scalpels and saws, and stained with dark, dried blood that covered every inch of the concrete.

"Oh my god... what the hell did Abraham Black do down here?" Irene clapped a hand over her mouth, fighting back the urge to vomit. She'd worked years as an ER doctor, and she'd never seen anything this horrific.

"He was a madman," Eli's voice was low, his flashlight beam landing on a wooden crate in the corner. He stepped toward it, lifting the lid. It was filled with yellowed photos and documents, the top one a portrait of Abraham Black himself.

The man in the photo was handsome, in a crisp black suit, his eyes deep and thoughtful-nothing like the monstrous, scarred brute with the axe. On the back of the photo, in neat fountain pen ink: April 30th, 1927. 10th wedding anniversary with Isabella.

"I know this story!" Junior blurted out, his voice trembling but firm. "I read about the Blackwood Ridge Murder House in local urban legends when I was a kid! In 1927, there was a massacre here. Abraham Black butchered his wife Isabella, his son, and his daughter with an axe, then hanged himself in the basement."

"Ever since then, the house has been cursed. No one who's ever broken in has come out alive. The legend says Abraham's ghost is trapped here, turned into a monster that only knows how to kill. He hacks apart anyone who steps foot in the house with that axe."

Eli's stomach dropped. No wonder the Axe Man had hunted them without hesitation. From the second they stepped through the door, his only goal was to kill every single one of them.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The axe blows kept coming, harder now. The steel door was dented and cracked, the bolt so warped it was barely holding. The entire basement shook with every hit, dust raining down from the ceiling.

"The door's not gonna hold!" Leah stared at the rattling door, her face grave. "We need another way out, now!"

Eli swept the flashlight beam across the basement, and his eyes locked on a narrow ventilation duct at the far end. The metal grate over the opening was rusted and fallen off, just big enough for one person to crawl through.

"There! The vent!" Eli yelled, pointing at it. "We crawl through, it should lead somewhere else in the house!"

That's when a sharp, sickening crack split the air.

The bolt on the door had been split clean in two by the axe.

The heavy steel door was wrenched open, and the Axe Man's massive frame filled the doorway, his empty eye sockets glowing with blood-red rage, his axe still dripping black blood. He let out another deafening roar, and charged toward them, axe raised high.

"MOVE!" Eli screamed, shoving Junior forward. "You first, go! Now!"

Junior scrambled toward the vent, not hesitating for a second, and dove inside. Irene was right after him. Leah stood at the opening, yelling at Eli. "Eli! Hurry up!"

Eli snatched a thick metal pipe from the floor, hurling it as hard as he could at the charging Axe Man. It slammed into his chest, but he barely even stumbled, only growing angrier, roaring louder as he closed in on Eli.

Eli spun and sprinted for the vent, diving inside. The second he was through, the axe slammed into the concrete where he'd been standing, shearing off half the vent opening, sending concrete shards raining down on his back.

The ventilation duct was narrow and pitch black, filled with dust and cobwebs, only big enough to crawl forward on your stomach. Eli followed right behind Leah, inching forward. Outside the duct, they could hear the Axe Man's enraged roars, the sound of him hacking at the concrete wall, the entire duct shaking with every blow.

"Where are we even going?" Junior whispered from up ahead, his voice thick with tears.

"I don't know," Eli said. "We just keep going until we lose him."

They crawled through the narrow duct for what felt like an eternity, nearly fifteen minutes, before they saw light at the end. The duct opened into another vent grate, looking out into a bedroom on the second floor.

Leah pushed the rusted grate open first, climbing out, then pulled Irene, Junior, and Eli out after her.

They were in a bedroom on the second floor. It was soft and sweet, with pink walls, a pink princess bed, stuffed animals scattered across the floor. It was Emily Black's room. And it was spotless, perfectly preserved, nothing like the rotting, decayed rooms in the rest of the house. As if time had stopped here.

The group collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, dizzy with the relief of having escaped death by a hair.

That's when a bloodcurdling scream came from the room next door.

It was Rex.

The scream cut off mid-shriek, followed by the wet, sickening thud of an axe sinking into flesh, and the crunch of splintering bone.

The group stared at one another, the blood draining from their faces.

"Kane and Rex..." Irene's voice shook.

"He got out of the basement. He found them," Eli's voice was low. He knew that once the Axe Man was done with Kane and Rex, they were next.

That's when they heard heavy footsteps in the hallway outside.

Thud... thud... thud...

The footsteps got closer, and closer, until they stopped right outside the bedroom door.

The air in the room turned to ice.

The group held their breath, staring at the door, too scared to even breathe.

A few seconds later, the axe slammed into the door.

CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!

Wood splinters exploded across the room, the thick wooden door splitting open with gaping holes with every hit. Through the splintered gaps, they could see his bloodshot, murderous eyes staring right back at them.

The door wouldn't hold much longer.