Once, in a forgotten village shrouded by mist, stood an ancient, creaky manor. Rumor held that at midnight, a ghostly luminance would descend from the heavens, slipping furtively through the ajar windows, softly illuminating the formidable hallway with a spectral glow. Morgana, the eldest in the village, recounted tales of how this light assumed human form, silently wandering the shadows, whispering secrets only the wind heard. One storm-laden night, a wanderer sought refuge from the relentless rain, unaware of the manor's sinister legend. At the stroke of midnight, a chilling silence swallowed the air, followed closely by the foreboding gleam from the sky. Powerless, he watched as the luminous figure passed, its visage eerily mirroring his own. Heart pounding, he felt the oppressive presence drawing nearer, each breath synchronized with the unnatural pulsing of the light. Enveloped by dread, he braced for the unknown, only for silence to reclaim the room. Dawn brought calm, yet its morning light revealed what he feared the most: his reflection gone from the tarnished mirror, swallowed by the night.