The afternoon was falling over the small town of San Cristóbal, and the golden sunlight illuminated the worn, graffiti-covered walls of the neighborhood where Carlos, Javier, Karina, and Leandra lived. The four of them had grown up together, sharing adventures, secrets, and laughter as they wandered the streets of their home. That afternoon, as they walked back from school, something caught their attention.
On a corner they passed almost every day, something different stood out. Among the corroded, graffiti-streaked walls, there was a door. But it wasn’t just any door — it was pristine, painted a vibrant red with golden details that gleamed under the fading sunlight. The friends stopped in their tracks.
"Has that always been there?" Karina asked, tilting her head in curiosity.
"I don't think so," Javier replied, his eyes fixed on the door. "We walk past here every day."
Carlos, more determined, stepped forward. His expression was a mix of awe and excitement.
"There's only one way to find out."
He cautiously pushed the door open, and what they saw on the other side left them speechless.
An enormous hall stretched before them, adorned with decorated tables, elegant chairs, and a chocolate fountain that bubbled sweetly. In the center of the room stood a massive Christmas tree, covered in twinkling lights that sparkled in hypnotic colors. The air was filled with the comforting scent of freshly baked cookies and cinnamon.
Suddenly, a figure appeared. He wore a flawless black suit, and instead of a face, his head was an enormous reflective sphere that gleamed with the colors of the Christmas lights.
"Greetings, adventurers," he said, his voice deep and melodic. "Welcome to my Hall of Wonders. I am the Mirror Lord."
The figure was tall, towering over all of them, and his presence was imposing. Yet there was a strange charisma in his voice, almost hypnotic. He bowed with an elegant gesture, and as he extended his hands, four masks emerged — each one with a unique design.
"I have witnessed your kindness and courage. For that, I offer you these masks. They are a special gift for you."
The Mirror Lord began handing out the masks:
"Carlos, the Lion. Courage and leadership."
"Javier, the Owl. Wisdom and vision."
"Karina, the Wolf. Strength and unity."
"Leandra, the Rabbit. Cleverness and agility."
Carlos accepted his mask eagerly, admiring it with pride. Karina and Leandra exchanged excited glances, slipping theirs on without hesitation. But when Javier touched his mask, a chill ran down his spine. There was something about it that unsettled him.
"I don't like this," he murmured to himself. Yet, seeing how his friends seemed to enjoy the moment, he decided to put it on.
As soon as the mask touched his face, Javier heard a whisper in his mind — a female voice speaking with urgency.
"They're in danger. Don't listen to him."
Javier jolted, stepping back. He glanced at his friends, but they seemed oblivious to any trouble. On the contrary, they were laughing and exploring the grand hall with curiosity.
"Everything okay, Javier?" Leandra asked, turning toward him with her rabbit mask on.
"Yeah… it just felt… strange."
"My name is Charlott," the voice whispered again. "I'm trapped in this mask. The same will happen to you if you listen to him. No matter what, don't eat anything he offers."
Javier furrowed his brow, struggling to process what was happening. He decided not to alarm his friends for the moment, but he remained on high alert. Meanwhile, the Mirror Lord guided them through the hall, showing them dazzling decorations and luxurious corners.
At one point, the Mirror Lord's black suit transformed, shifting into a red and white outfit resembling that of Santa Claus. He settled onto a golden throne and beckoned them closer.
"Now, my dear guests, tell me your wishes."
One by one, the children stepped forward. Carlos wished for a soccer ball, which he received with a grin. Karina asked for a video game, and it appeared in her hands, wrapped in shiny paper. Leandra, wide-eyed with delight, wished for a giant teddy bear, which the Mirror Lord conjured instantly.
When it was Javier's turn, he knew exactly what he wanted. He concentrated, choosing something different — something that might help him. The Mirror Lord seemed to savor the intensity of his gaze and handed him a firetruck made of iron.
"Something special for you," the faceless figure said with an invisible smile.
Then, as a final gesture, he offered each child a gleaming candy.
"An extra gift for being so wonderful. Go on, enjoy."
Javier watched his friends, who were moments away from tasting the sweets. Remembering Charlott's warning, he pretended to drop his candy. The Mirror Lord, with unsettling politeness, bent down to retrieve it. In that instant, Javier seized the firetruck and swung it with all his might, striking the reflective sphere of the Mirror Lord’s head.
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The sound of the impact echoed through the hall, and a crack splintered across the mirror-like surface. The Mirror Lord let out a distorted scream, but Javier didn’t stop. He struck again and again until the glass shattered completely.
Javier's friends stood frozen in shock. Then, everything began to dissolve — the luxurious hall, the throne, the decorations — all vanishing like smoke. The masks crumbled away, releasing the souls of children from various eras: the 1950s, 1920s, and 1970s. From Javier's mask emerged Charlott, dressed in garments from the 1880s. She smiled gratefully.
"You saved us all. Thank you, Javier."
"Good luck, Charlott," he replied, grasping his friends’ hands and leading them away.
The door disappeared behind them, along with the strange world.
When it was all over, the four of them stood in silence, still shaken. Finally, Javier broke the tension with a grin.
"Who’s hungry?"
His friends couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh as they made their way home, knowing they had left behind something terrifying… and extraordinary.
That night, Javier tried to sleep, but unease had gripped him like a cold he couldn’t shake. He had tossed and turned for hours, sleep as elusive as smoke slipping through his fingers. The darkness of his room, usually a refuge, now felt oppressive, as though the air itself was heavy with something unseen. Every creak of the wooden floor beneath the night breeze sounded like a whisper watching him.
Finally, his eyes opened, and the dimness greeted him with an unsettling sight: the owl mask he had left on his desk. Its silhouette gleamed faintly under the pale moonlight that filtered through the cracks in the window. For a moment, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. He blinked a few times, expecting the strange sensation to fade. But it wasn’t the mask that made his breath catch in his throat. It was the figure standing beside it: the Mirror Lord.
Fully restored, the Mirror Lord stood tall with an eerie elegance, as though the room itself were his stage and he its star performer. His surface gleamed with unnatural perfection, reflecting not just the light, but something more — something Javier couldn’t name, yet it made him feel exposed and powerless.
“I am disappointed and upset, Javier,” the Mirror Lord said, his voice soft, almost a whisper, gliding through the air like silk. There was no overt anger, but the words were heavy with something far worse: a profound disappointment that pressed down on Javier like an unbearable weight.
Javier tried to move, but his body remained paralyzed. Pristine terror enveloped him as he realized he couldn’t even tear his gaze away from the imposing figure. His mind screamed, but his throat stayed silent.
“I wanted to give you the best,” the Mirror Lord continued, his tone tinged with regret. “I offered you a gift, a special place.” He took a step forward, his movements fluid and deliberate, as though each gesture was part of a meticulously rehearsed performance. “And not only did you reject it, but you attacked me. That hurts me deeply, my child.”
The word “child” struck Javier like an invisible blow. There was something deeply disturbing in how he said it — not with affection, but with a grotesque imitation of it. Each step the Mirror Lord took toward Javier’s bed echoed faintly, as if the room itself resonated with his presence.
“Look at yourself,” he said tenderly, finally reaching Javier’s side. He bent down just enough for his gleaming surface to reflect Javier’s pale, frozen face, his eyes brimming with fear. “What a special boy you are. But oh, how disappointing.”
His icy hand touched Javier’s cheek, stroking it with a gentleness that only magnified the horror. Javier wanted to scream, to thrash, to break free, but his body betrayed him. Tears welled in his eyes, blurring the monstrous reflection that loomed above him.
“Despite being a naughty boy,” the Mirror Lord continued, his tone a twisted blend of reproach and affection, “I still have faith in you. That is why I’ll give you something special.”
With slow, deliberate motions, he reached for the owl mask resting on the desk. Under the dim light, its carved feathers seemed almost alive, as though they pulsed with something far beyond craftsmanship. He placed it gently on Javier’s lap, like a carefully wrapped present.
“I promise I will see you again at the next celebration, and once more, I will invite you, little owl,” he said, his voice curling through the air like a serpent. Though his smile was unseen, Javier could feel it — a grin that lingered like a shadow, thick with a promise that brought no comfort at all.
His icy fingers brushed Javier’s cheek once more — a gesture that might have been comforting in another context but now only deepened the sense that something was profoundly wrong. And then, without a word, the Mirror Man vanished. There was no dramatic burst of light or slow fade — just a blink, and then emptiness where he had stood.
The air lightened in an instant, as though the room itself had exhaled a breath it had been holding. Javier squeezed his eyes shut, trying to make sense of what had just happened. But the weight of exhaustion soon pulled him under, and the darkness of sleep wrapped around him like a heavy blanket.
As the first light of dawn crept into the room, Javier jolted awake, his heart pounding in his ears. He sat up, drenched in sweat, his thoughts scrambled. For a fleeting moment, he clung to the hope that it had all been a nightmare — twisted and cruel, but nothing more. Yet when he turned his gaze toward the desk, that fragile hope shattered.
The owl mask was still there, pristine and unmoved. And next to it, a small piece of candy, neatly wrapped in gleaming paper.
The candy seemed harmless, yet to Javier, it was a silent mockery — a reminder that what had happened wasn’t some fevered hallucination. His trembling fingers reached for it, the crinkle of the wrapper sending chills down his spine. Fear twisted inside him, but beneath it lay something worse: the undeniable certainty that the Mirror Man would keep his promise. He would return.
The day passed in a blur. Javier tried to maintain a sense of normalcy, but every shadow and every reflection in the glass windows made him flinch. The mask remained on his desk, unmoving yet ominous — a silent sentinel biding its time.
The following nights brought no relief. Sleep came only in fragments, and when it did, the Mirror Man haunted him. He saw the figure’s gleaming form approaching, heard that smooth, silken voice, felt the icy touch on his skin. The nightmares coiled around him like vines, and every morning he awoke with the dreadful sensation that someone had been in the room, watching.
A week passed. Javier couldn’t endure it any longer.
He decided to get rid of the mask.
With shaky hands, he placed it inside a cardboard box and fled to the nearest park. There, beneath the twisted roots of an ancient tree, he buried it. Each scoop of dirt felt like a desperate attempt to claw his way back to sanity. When the mask was finally out of sight, Javier stood over the disturbed earth, the weight on his chest lifting — if only slightly. He whispered a shaky prayer that by leaving it behind, he could leave the fear behind too.
But that night, as he stepped back into his room, his breath caught in his throat.
The mask was there.
Resting on his desk, perfectly untouched. And beside it, the same small candy, its wrapper gleaming mockingly in the dim light.
The Mirror Man had not returned in the flesh, but his presence lingered. It was in the walls, the floorboards, the air itself. Every reflection seemed to tremble with an unseen gaze. It was as though the house had become an extension of him — a thousand mirrored eyes watching, waiting.
