This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/j4ybugg on 2024-09-07 08:13:05+00:00.

I work ad a delivery driver for a small courier company. Its a pretty solitary job, but it pays the bills.

Last week, I was assigned a late-night delivery to an address that wasn’t in out usual system—a big, old nansion on the edge of town. I didn’t think much of it. Sometimes clients use our service for unusual hours or locations.

When I arrived, the house was almost completely shrouded in darkness—everything matched up. The large iron gates creaked open slowly and I drove up the winding driveway to the front of the mansion.

I knocked on the heavy wooden door, and it swung open almost immediately, revealing an elderly woman in a long, dark dress. Her face was obscured by shadows, but her voice was gentle and firm.

She thanked me for coming and asked me to leave the package inside for her, as she was too frail to carry it herself.

I carried the package—an unmarked, simple cardboard box—into the foyer. The inside of the mansion was dimly lit, with dusty, antique furniture and an oppressive, musty smell. The woman left me to a small, candle-lit room with a large, ornate mirror.

She pointed to a table in front of the mirror and told me to put it there. I set the box down, and as I did, I noticed something odd about the reflection in the mirror. The room behind me appeared perfectly normal, but the reflection showed a much older version of the same room, with cobwebs and decay.

I turned to ask the woman about it, but she was gone. The door behind me was now shut tightly, and the light flickered erratically. I felt a sudden chill and a creeping sense of dread. I knocked on the door, but there was no response.

A soft, unsettling whisper echoed through the room, and I noticed that the reflection in the mirror was starting to change. The old, decayed room in the mirror was growing more chaotic—shadows seemed to move and twist, and ghostly figures appeared briefly before vanishing.

Suddenly, a cold draft swept through the room, and candles flickered out. In the pitch-black darkness, I could hear faint whispered growing louder, mingling with my own panicked breaths.

I tried the door again, but it remained stubbornly closed. My heart raced as I fumbled for my phone to call for help, but my signal was dead. The whispers grew into incoherent murmurs, and I felt a presence closing in.

I was desperate now, I reached for the box I had delivered, hoping it might somehow offer an escape or answer. As I lifted the lid, I found it empty except for a small, old-fashioned key and a note, although I remember it feeling heavy.

The note read: “Thank you for your service, you may stay as long as you wish.”

A freezing cold hand touched my shoulder as I read, and I spun around to find the elderly woman standing there, her face now visible and twisted in a grim, knowing smile. Her eyre were hollow and black, and the room seemed to distort around her.

Without thinking, I grabbed the key and forced it into a lock on the side of the ornate mirror. The mirror’s surface rippled like water, and I had just enough time to step through before the room was consumed by darkness.

Now, I’m trapped on the other side. The mansion is as old and decayed as the reflection showed, and the whispers are all around me. Every night, I see the delivery driver through the mirror, and I know that the next person to answer the late-night call will end up just like me.

The room I’m in, it holds a sense of comfort and unknowing. I’ve seen a cap, just like mine, and I swear I’ve seen some bones laying around. I’m scared.

And the worst part? I don’t think anyone will notice I’m missing.