The Echoes of Xiao Ermao: A Haunting Revelation

The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the dilapidated town of Lingnan. The streets were almost deserted, save for the occasional flickering of streetlights and the distant sound of a dog barking. In this town, where whispers of Xiao Ermao's curse lingered like a toxic mist, the night was a living, breathing entity that knew no bounds.

Xiaoyu, a young woman of 23, had always been fascinated by the tales of Xiao Ermao. She had grown up hearing the stories of the cursed woman who had been burned at the stake centuries ago, her eyes and mouth stitched shut to prevent her from cursing the world. As she grew older, her curiosity had transformed into a morbid fascination. She had always imagined herself as the next person to uncover the truth behind the legend.

That night, as the town prepared for the annual Mid-Autumn Festival, Xiaoyu decided to venture out into the darkness. She had heard of an old, abandoned house on the outskirts of town, rumored to be the last place Xiao Ermao had been seen alive. With nothing but a flashlight and a notebook, she set out to find the truth.

The house was a decrepit structure, its windows shattered and its doors hanging loosely on their hinges. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decay. Xiaoyu shivered as she pushed the door open, the creak of the hinges echoing through the empty halls. She flipped on her flashlight, its beam cutting through the darkness, revealing walls covered in peeling paint and cobwebs.

She moved deeper into the house, her footsteps echoing against the silence. The air grew colder, and she felt a strange sensation, as if she were being watched. She ignored the unease and continued her search, her flashlight beam dancing across the walls, searching for any clues that might lead her to understand the curse.

In the back of the house, she found a small, dusty room filled with old furniture. A wooden chair, a rickety table, and a mirror stood in the center. The mirror was large, its frame ornate, and it seemed to be the focal point of the room. Xiaoyu stepped closer, her flashlight beam illuminating its surface. She noticed a faint, almost imperceptible mark on the glass—a face, half-seen, half-buried in the mirror.

Her heart raced as she reached out to touch the mirror. The glass was cool to the touch, and she felt a strange connection to it. She closed her eyes and whispered, "Xiao Ermao, show yourself."

The mirror's surface rippled, and for a moment, Xiaoyu thought she saw movement. She opened her eyes, but there was nothing. She shook her head, trying to clear the vision from her mind, but the feeling persisted. She approached the mirror again, her hand trembling as she placed it on the surface.

Suddenly, the room was filled with a haunting melody, a song that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Xiaoyu's breath caught in her throat as she turned around, but there was no one there. The sound grew louder, more insistent, until it was a cacophony of voices, each calling her name.

"No, no, no," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. She spun back to the mirror, her eyes wide with fear. The melody stopped, and the room was silent once more. She took a deep breath, willing herself to remain calm.

As she stepped closer to the mirror, she noticed the mark on the glass more clearly. It was a face, and it was hers. She reached out, her fingers grazing the glass, and she felt a jolt of energy surge through her. Her vision blurred, and she felt herself being pulled into the mirror.

When she opened her eyes, she was no longer in the room. She was in a strange, ethereal realm, a place of darkness and shadows. She was alone, except for the faint glow of the moon in the distance. She felt a chill run down her spine, and she realized that she was trapped.

The shadows moved, and she saw a figure emerge from them. It was Xiao Ermao, her eyes and mouth stitched shut, her hair a wild tangle of black. The figure approached Xiaoyu, and she could feel the woman's presence, heavy and oppressive.

"Xiaoyu," the voice was hollow, echoing through the darkness. "You have come to seek the truth. But be warned, for the truth is not always kind."

Xiaoyu tried to speak, but her voice was trapped in her throat. The figure reached out, and Xiaoyu felt herself being pulled into the darkness once more.

She awoke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest. She was in the room, the mirror standing before her. She reached out, but her hand passed through the glass. She was still trapped in the realm of Xiao Ermao.

She heard the melody again, a haunting reminder of her impending doom. She looked at the mirror, and she saw her own reflection, her eyes and mouth stitched shut. She realized that she had become Xiao Ermao, her fate now intertwined with the cursed woman's.

The door to the room creaked open, and a figure stepped inside. It was the townspeople, their eyes wide with fear and disbelief. They had come to witness the curse, to see Xiao Ermao's wrath unfold.

Xiaoyu tried to scream, but no sound came out. She felt the darkness closing in around her, the weight of the curse pressing down on her. She was alone, trapped in the mirror, and she knew that she would never be free.

The End