The wind howled across the hills as night fell upon the quiet village of Elmsford. It was not just any night—it was the night of the crimson moon. The sky, once silver and calm, now glowed red, painting the land in strange, bloody light.

Inside the stone cottages, villagers shut their windows and locked their doors. Candles flickered as whispers spread from one household to another.

“Do not go outside,” said Elena’s aunt, pulling the curtains tight. “Not tonight.”

“But why?” Elena asked.

“Because the red moon brings back the dead… and worse.”

Elena didn’t believe in ghost stories. She was seventeen, and stories of spirits and cursed forests seemed silly to her. But still, something about the moon made her uneasy.

Later that night, as everyone slept, Elena heard a sound. A whisper, soft as breath, floating through the window.

“Elena…”

She sat up in bed. The voice came again—sad, almost crying.

“Elena… help me…”

Her heart pounded. She got up, put on her cloak, and took her lantern. She stepped outside. The air was cold and heavy. Fog curled between the trees.

She followed the voice through the woods, deeper than she had ever gone. The trees were tall and twisted, their branches reaching like claws. She stepped carefully, her boots crunching on fallen leaves.

After a long walk, the forest opened, and she saw it. A huge, crumbling mansion hidden behind thick vines and weeds. Its towers rose into the dark sky. The gate stood open, covered in rust.

Elena stepped through.

The air changed inside the yard. It was colder. Still. She walked to the front door and knocked. No answer.

She turned the handle. It creaked. The door opened slowly.

Inside was darkness. Dust floated in the air. The smell of old wood and cold stone filled her nose. A long hallway stretched ahead, with cracked mirrors and torn curtains.

A candle sat burning at the end of the hall, near a tall staircase. She walked toward it, her footsteps echoing.

Then she heard it.

A soft cry.

It came from upstairs.

She climbed the stairs slowly, holding the lantern close. The second floor was darker. At the end of the hall, one door was slightly open.

She pushed it gently.

Inside stood a boy.

He was pale, with dark hair and old-fashioned clothes. He looked about her age.

“Elena,” he said.

She froze. “How do you know my name?”

“I called you.”

“Why?”

“Because I need your help. We all do.”

He turned and pointed to the wall. There was a large mirror. In its glass, Elena saw herself—and something else.

A girl stood behind her, eyes wide with fear. Her mouth moved, but no sound came.

“Who is she?” Elena asked.

“She was the first,” the boy said. “She saw what lives in this house. She tried to tell others. They locked her in. The house keeps her now.”

Elena looked again, but the girl was gone. Only her own reflection stared back.

“What’s your name?” Elena asked the boy.

“Sebastian,” he said. “I live here… but I’m not really alive.”

She stepped back. “What do you mean?”

He looked at the floor. “The red moon cursed this place. Everyone inside—trapped in time. Ghosts. Memories. Pain.”

Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind her. Elena ran to it. Locked.

The room grew colder. Her breath came out in white mist.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian said. “Once the moon turns red, no one can leave. Not unless the mirror is broken.”

Elena turned to the mirror. Her reflection was gone. Instead, she saw shadows moving behind the glass—hands pressed against it, faces screaming silently.

A low whisper filled the room.

“Break the mirror…”

Elena picked up a broken candlestick and threw it. The glass shattered into sharp pieces. The wind roared. The lantern blew out.

Everything went black.

Then silence.

When she opened her eyes, she was standing in the hallway again. The door behind her was open.

Sebastian stood there, looking different. Brighter.

“You did it,” he said. “You set them free.”

“The girl?” Elena asked.

“She’s gone now. No longer trapped.”

“And you?”

“I’ll fade too, when the sun rises. The curse only holds us under the crimson moon.”

Elena stepped outside. The moon was still red, but clouds were moving in. The sky slowly changed.

She looked back at the mansion. Its walls were cracked, but peaceful. The air no longer felt heavy.

Sebastian smiled. “Thank you.”

As light returned to the land, he disappeared like mist.

Elena walked home through the quiet forest. The voice no longer called her name.

The village still feared the crimson moon, but Elena knew the truth.

Sometimes, what seems cursed… just needs to be understood.

But deep inside, she also knew — the moon would rise red again one day.