The old building on the corner of Złotnicza Street has always aroused the curiosity of its inhabitants. Its windows gleamed even when the sun had long since set, and the front door creaked with every gust of wind. Sylwia, a curious art history student, had only moved in a fortnight ago. One evening, as she was returning to her third-floor flat, she noticed that at the end of the narrow corridor the door, which had always been padlocked, was ajar. The swing lasted only a moment. Sylvia felt her heart beating faster and gently pushed open the wooden door. On the other side, the corridor was illuminated by hundreds of reflections of light. Surprised, she stepped cautiously inside and almost immediately encountered Adrian, her neighbour from the second floor. Adrian, always composed and cool, looked intrigued but also slightly concerned. - 'Did you come here too? - He whispered, looking around nervously. - 'I've never seen this interior. Look, it's all in the mirrors. Indeed, the walls, the ceiling and even the floor were covered with mirrors. Each reflected light and the light multiplied endlessly, creating the impression that the corridor stretched on endlessly. Sylvia touched one of the panes. Contrary to expectation, her reflection smiled mockingly, although she herself did not move her lips. - Did you see it? - She asked in a trembling voice. Adrian nodded his head. The mirrors suddenly began to hum, and the shadows of strange figures flitted across their surface. One of the reflections reached out to them, as if to invite them in. The door behind them slammed shut with a bang, extinguishing all other sounds at the same time. In this silence, Sylvia and Adrian felt a strange presence - as if the whole place was waiting for them to take another step.