# Half Night *A Night That Shouldn't Exist*

#half night#epishode-5

**Chapter 5: Whispers in the Cellar**

Darkness lingered even after the candle’s flame had died.

The mirror version of Smit — the one who had stepped forward — vanished the moment Pole kicked at the shattered glass. But the cold didn’t leave the room.

Jini clutched Smit’s arm. He didn’t blink. Didn’t speak.

Pole whispered, “We have to get out. Now.”

He fumbled for the doorknob — it turned, slowly, as if resisting — and the door creaked open.

They stumbled back into the hallway.

But the hallway… had changed.

It no longer looked like a hotel corridor. The wallpaper peeled like old skin. Lamps flickered without electricity. The air smelled of soil — damp, earthy, ancient.

They weren’t on the same floor anymore.

“Smit?” Jini shook him. “Say something.”

He turned, slowly. “We have to go below.”

“What?” Pole snapped. “Why?”

Smit blinked — finally. “He’s calling.”

Pole stepped back. “Who’s calling?”

Smit walked ahead without answering.

They followed him down a narrow staircase behind the lobby, hidden beneath a collapsed rug. None of them remembered seeing it before.

As they descended, the air grew colder. The steps creaked under their weight.

Jini whispered, “Where are we going?”

Smit replied softly, “To the place they kept secrets.”

At the bottom was a rusted door, marked with a handprint burned into the wood. Smit touched it, and it opened with a long moan.

Inside was a cellar.

But not an ordinary one.

The walls were lined with mirrors.

Old. Cracked. Covered in dust.

In the center stood a wooden chair… and sitting in it —

Was Keri.

His head was bowed. His back rose and fell with shallow breaths.

“Keri!” Jini ran forward — but as she reached him —

His reflection in the mirror lifted its head before he did.

Then, with a loud gasp, Keri looked up.

“You shouldn’t have followed…” he whispered.

Behind them, the cellar door slammed shut.

The mirrors all shimmered… and whispered.

Voices — layered, ancient, angry.

Pole grabbed Jini’s arm. “This isn’t just about Keri.”

“No,” Smit said, looking around. “This place remembers. And it wants us too.”

The mirrors flickered like water.

One showed a memory — a girl trapped in the chair, decades ago, screaming.

Another showed the hotel manager — smiling as he watched from the shadows.

Then Smit’s own reflection leaned closer, speaking words no one else could hear.

He nodded.

Pole asked, “What did it say?”

Smit replied, eyes dark, “That I’ve always belonged here.”

And in every mirror — he was already seated in the chair.

But in the room… he was gone.

**[To be continued…]**