Yakabatanidzwa ruzha

In the dead of night, Sarah heard whispers coming from the basement, calling her name. She grabbed a flashlight and slowly walked downstairs, her hands trembling. At the bottom step, she saw an old mirror reflecting a dark figure standing behind her. She turned around—but no one was there. The whispers grew louder: “You should never have opened the door.” Suddenly, the basement door slammed shut, and the lights went out. The next morning, Sarah was gone—only the mirror remained, with a new refle