I was a film student, and I loved to capture the world around me on film. I was always looking for new and exciting things to film, and nothing was too weird or strange for me.
One day, I heard rumors of a mysterious old mansion on the outskirts of town. The locals said that strange things had happened there, and that it was haunted by the ghosts of the past. I knew that I had to see it for myself, and so I grabbed my camera and set out to explore.
As I approached the mansion, I felt a chill run down my spine. It was old and decrepit, and the windows were boarded up. But I was determined to capture its eerie beauty on film. And so, I broke in.
The inside of the mansion was even more terrifying than the outside. The walls were covered in cobwebs, and the furniture was old and rotting. But I couldn’t resist the urge to film everything I saw.
As I walked through the mansion, I heard strange noises coming from upstairs. It sounded like footsteps, but when I looked up, there was no one there. I continued to film, hoping to catch something on camera.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around, but no one was there. I brushed it off as my imagination and kept filming.
The more I explored, the stranger things became. I saw strange symbols etched into the walls, and objects moved on their own. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew that I had to keep filming.
Finally, I made my way to the attic. It was dark and musty, but I could see something moving in the shadows. I pointed my camera towards it, and suddenly, I saw something that made my blood run cold.
It was me. I was in the attic, filming myself.
I couldn’t believe it. How could I be in two places at once? But as I looked closer, I realized that the “me” in the attic was slightly different. It was as if he was a mirror image of me, but with something sinister lurking behind his eyes.
Then, suddenly, the “me” in the attic turned to the camera and spoke.
“Gotcha,” he said with an evil grin.
And with that, everything went dark.
When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. The doctors told me that I had been found unconscious in the mansion, with no memory of what had happened. But as I looked around, I realized that my camera was missing.
I never found out what had really happened in that mansion, but I knew one thing for sure. I had been tricked, and that the “me” in the attic had been a fake, created to lure me into his trap.
From that day on, I was never the same. I couldn’t trust my own mind, or the things I saw on film. I had been scarred for life, and I knew that I would never forget the horror that I had experienced in that mansion.
The end.