**Jiang City, 2 a.m.**
Neon lights flicker through the rain, the streets a forgotten canvas reflecting cold, wet glimmers. Captain Lu Han, a seasoned detective, stands in the dim hallway of a rundown apartment building. The air reeks of mold and a faint trace of blood. His flashlight cuts through the gloom, landing on a half-open door.
"Captain, this case… it's creepy," whispers Xiao Zhang, the young officer behind him, his voice trembling.
Lu Han doesn't turn. His eyes are sharp, unyielding. He pushes the door open, and the scene inside tightens his brow: a male corpse lies in the center of the living room, eyes wide, face frozen in terror. Strange symbols are scrawled across the floor, like remnants of some ritual.
"Creepy?" Lu Han mutters, a bitter smirk tugging at his lips. "This is just the beginning."
Ten years as a detective have hardened him to blood and death, but Jiang City's cases have grown stranger lately. Each solved case brings glimpses of the unexplainable—shadows moving on their own, whispers in his ears, even warnings from the dead.
He kneels to inspect the body. The man's rigid fingers point to a corner, where nothing stands but an old, cracked mirror. Lu Han rises and approaches it. Under the flashlight's glow, his reflection looks hazy.
"Captain, that mirror…" Xiao Zhang's voice cuts off.
Lu Han spins around to find Xiao Zhang staring at the mirror, face pale. Following his gaze, Lu Han sees it—his reflection is smiling, though his own face is grim.
"Don't look," Lu Han snaps, yanking Xiao Zhang away, forcing himself to break eye contact.
Then, a low voice slithers from the mirror: "You can't escape, Lu Han."
---
**Three Days Later**
Lu Han sits in his office at the precinct, case files piled high. Outside, the rain falls endlessly, like the city's unshakable gloom. His phone buzzes—a stranger's number.
"Hello?" he answers.
"Save me…" a girl's voice gasps, faint and fading. "I'm… South Suburbs… warehouse… he… he's not human…"
"Where are you? Speak!" Lu Han bolts upright, urgent.
The line goes dead.
He traces the call to an abandoned industrial zone in the South Suburbs. Grabbing his coat, he calls Xiao Zhang and another officer, Lao Wang, and they race to the scene.
The South Suburbs industrial area is desolate, its decaying factories looming like silent beasts in the rain. Lu Han's car stops before a warehouse, headlights illuminating a rusted iron gate. As he steps out, a strange smell lingers—burnt fabric.
"Captain, no one lives here, right?" Xiao Zhang grips his flashlight, voice shaky.
"No residents doesn't mean no visitors," Lu Han replies, pushing the gate open with a grating screech.
Inside, the warehouse is vast and cold, littered with broken crates and scrapped machines. Lu Han's flashlight catches a trail of drag marks mixed with dark red blood.
"Split up. Stay sharp," he orders.
The three fan out, footsteps echoing. Lu Han follows the blood trail to an iron door leading to a basement. It's ajar, faint dripping echoing below. He descends, the air growing damp and rancid. His flashlight reveals a cramped concrete room, walls scratched with desperate claw marks.
In the center, an iron table holds a cloth doll, its face painted with an eerie grin. As Lu Han steps closer, the doll's eyes seem to shift, locking onto him.
"Captain!" Xiao Zhang's shout breaks the silence. "We found something!"
Suppressing a chill, Lu Han hurries back. Xiao Zhang stands by a pile of debris, pointing to a pale hand protruding from it.
"Is it her?" Lu Han crouches, clearing the rubble to reveal a young woman's body. Her face is etched with fear, neck marred by strangulation marks.
"Must be the caller…" Xiao Zhang murmurs. "But how? We just got here!"
Lu Han's eyes fix on a scrap of cloth beside her. In blood, one word: "Run."
---
Back at the precinct, Lu Han digs into the victim's identity. Lin Xiaoyue, 22, a Jiang City University student, had posted online about being stalked before vanishing. Her phone, found near the warehouse, shows no suspicious calls except the one to police.
"Captain, this is too weird," Xiao Zhang says, rubbing his eyes. "The call came at 1 a.m., but the coroner says she'd been dead six hours. Who made that call?"
Lu Han stares at the computer, where warehouse surveillance shows no vehicles or people that night. The only lead is Lin Xiaoyue's last social media post: a blurry photo of an abandoned warehouse, a shadowy figure lurking in the corner.
"Enhance it," Lu Han says, pointing at the screen.
The tech zooms in. The shadow sharpens into a vague humanoid shape, its face smeared, featureless.
"What is that?" Xiao Zhang gasps.
Lu Han doesn't answer, his mind flashing to the mirror's grinning reflection. He shuts off the computer and grabs his coat. "We're going to Lin Xiaoyue's dorm."
---
Lin Xiaoyue's dorm room at Jiang City University is tidy, but her desk holds something odd—a handmade cloth doll, identical to the one in the warehouse.
"Where's her roommate?" Lu Han asks.
"Says Xiaoyue kept dreaming of someone standing by her bed," Xiao Zhang reads from the notes. "Someone… without a face."
Lu Han picks up the doll. On its back, stitched in tiny letters: "Don't look back."
The room's lights flicker. A chill crawls up Lu Han's spine. He whips around—nothing, just the curtains swaying without a breeze.
---
That night, Lu Han stays late at the precinct, the doll and Lin Xiaoyue's file before him. Something feels overlooked. Suddenly, his radio crackles, a low voice hissing: "Lu Han… do you see me?"
He snatches it up. "Who's this? Identify yourself!"
Silence.
He takes a deep breath and checks Lin Xiaoyue's phone. Her last unsent message reads: "It's waiting for me in the warehouse. It says I shouldn't have seen."
"Seen what?" Lu Han mutters.
At midnight, the precinct's lights die, leaving only the computer's glow. On the screen, Lin Xiaoyue's photo has morphed into that featureless shadow.
"Lu Han…" a voice whispers behind him, icy and clear.
He spins around. The office is empty—but the doll on the desk… its head has turned, staring right at him.