I sat at the edge of her bed, the notebook still in my hands.
My hand trembled—not from sorrow, but from something else...
A heavy feeling, as if something was about to be revealed.
I reread the final line in one of the letters:
> "If I never return, know that the door has closed—or the monster came through with us…"
I closed my eyes.
Was this just fantasy? The words of an old woman who had mixed reality with delusion?
Or was there something else... something I had never seen, while believing I understood everything?
I looked around. The room was slightly dim, despite the daylight.
A thick curtain blocked out the sun.
A strange stillness hovered over the place.
Then I noticed something behind the large wooden wardrobe.
Thick cobwebs and layers of dust.
But behind them, a thin outline on the wall—as if marking a hidden door.
A small door, invisible at first glance.
My heart began to pound.
I pushed the wardrobe with all the strength I had.
I stumbled. Fell.
But slowly, it moved—revealing a small wooden door.
No handle. No keyhole.
Just an old engraving on the wood:
> "Opens for the blood of my blood."
A shiver ran through me.
Was this… a real secret door?
I placed my hand on it. Nothing.
Then a wild idea came to me…
I pricked the tip of my finger with a nearby shard of glass,
and placed a drop of blood in the center of the door.
Silence.
Then slowly, the door trembled…
And opened.
Behind it, a narrow stone tunnel appeared, dimly lit by flickering torches.
The air inside was cold—despite the summer heat outside.
And the silence… heavy, as if it carried the whispers of the past.
I stepped forward cautiously, one foot after the other.
And the deeper I went, the more the sound changed.
I could no longer hear birds, nor the wind—
Only a distant roar, like something calling from an ancient abyss.
At the end of the tunnel, I reached a circular chamber.
Its walls were covered with strange carvings—symbols that resembled nothing I recognized.
And in its center…
A massive black mirror.
But it reflected nothing—
As if it were a hole torn in the fabric of time itself.
To the side, a wooden table filled with objects: daggers, books, talismans, pictures of bizarre creatures—
Each item carefully numbered and preserved.
I opened one of the books.
It was written in my grandmother's handwriting:
> "The other world knows no mercy.
Every seven days, a new monster appears—
Each one fed by human fear,
and translated into disasters:
earthquakes, storms, fires…
My mission was to stop them before they crossed into our world."
The ground felt like it shifted beneath me.
My grandmother… was fighting monsters from another world?
All her life, she appeared miserable and frail—
But behind that wrinkled face, she had been waging secret battles no one knew about?
I approached the mirror.
It was pulsing—yes, the mirror was beating like a living heart.
I reached out.
And with a single touch, I felt myself being pulled inside…
Everything turned black.
Then… a red light.
Thick air.
A cracked sky.
Strange land.
Black trees.
The air filled with roars that didn't resemble any known creature.
I was in another world.
And then I heard a voice behind me…
I turned.
It was a woman—
She had my grandmother's face, only younger.
She wore a silver armor and held a spear.
But it wasn't her.
It was her ghost. Or her image.
Or perhaps just a memory brought to life.
She spoke with firm resolve:
— "If you're reading these words, then my time has ended… and yours has begun.
The world is on the brink of collapse, and what lies behind this gate won't remain locked away much longer."
I shouted:
— "Me? No… I can't do this!"
But the voice faded…
And all that remained was the mirror, slowly closing behind me...
---