On Halloween night, Jenna stumbled upon an old, eerie mask at a yard sale. The vendor, a hollow-eyed old man, muttered a cryptic warning: “This mask holds the whispers of all who wore it before.”

Ignoring his words, Jenna wore it to a Halloween party that night. But as the clock struck midnight, strange whispers began calling her name, softly at first, then growing louder, more desperate. The voices echoed inside her head, relentless.

Panicking, she tore the mask off—only to find the whispers wouldn’t stop. In the mirror, her reflection smiled back, but it wasn’t her anymore. The mask had taken a new face.