It started as a dare.
"Go in, sketch the Midnight Portrait, get out. Easy clout," Leo grinned.
Mara didn't believe in curses or ghosts, neither did she believe in haunted galleries. She believed in deadlines, and it loomed over her mercilessly: just two weeks to the final project, and she had nothing decent to show. So when Leo spoke of the Portrait, Mara was curious. When he put out $2000, bragging rights, and a chance to sneak into the Balthazar Gallery, Mara was in.
She planned it all well—used her internship ID to get in after hours, did it while the main guard was at his 2:00 a.m. nap, and even came with gloves to keep from activating motion sensors. Somehow, though, she still missed one.
The moment Mara stepped into the restricted west wing, a faint red light blinked in a corner.
She froze.
No sirens blaring, no loudspeakers roaring. Just one solitary blinking red dot, high up in the ceiling.
"Calm down, Mara," she whispered to herself. Forcing herself forward.
At the far end of the hall lay the Midnight Portrait. It stood in a solitary case under a soft golden spotlight. A painting rumored to be cursed: a woman in her velvet chair, her face turned slightly, with one hand resting limply on her lap.
People who had seen it had sworn that the eyes didn't belong in a portrait.
It was human.
It was alive.
And it followed you.
They also said that the background changed when you were not looking.
Mara didn’t believe all that, but she did believe that the painting was a very brilliant work of art, that the brushwork was divine, awesome, like shadows stitched into silk.
She pulled out her sketchpad quickly, her hands trembling slightly, not from fear, but from anticipation.
The light flickered in the gallery light, for just a moment.
Then came back.
But something felt terribly wrong. As she turned slowly, the halls of the gallery, buried in deep darkness, were now bathed in soft light, it looked as if all the portraits pulsed with life.
She stepped backward, towards the main entrance.
It was locked.
Had she triggered a lockdown?
Yes, she certainly had. The blinking red dot indicated a motion alarm, but she wondered where the guards were.
Then her phone vibrated violently. She yanked it out of her pocket:
"EMERGENCY ALERT: Intrusion Detected. Security Mobilized."
Oh, my God! She was surely done for. What would happen next now?
Immediately, there was a noise behind her.
She spun around and something odd caught her attention.
The Portrait.
The woman's hand was no longer lying limply on her lap, but was slightly raised.
Mara blinked, the light shimmered, and the hand went back down.
She swallowed hard and forced a laugh. "Don't tell me you are afraid, Mara." She chided herself.
Just then another creak.
She whipped around. Nothing.
But all the paintings along the wall, portraits of nobles, clergymen, and ghost-eyed children looked off. As if they were all watching her.
Her sketchpad fell.
“Nope,” she whispered. “Nope nope nope, it can't be true.”
She backed away from the painting, but her eyes were drawn back.
Now the woman’s eyes were wide, staring directly at her.
Her phone buzzed again.
“False Alarm Confirmed. Security Alert Canceled. Resume Normal Activity.”
A beat passed.
Then two.
Mara let out a slow, ragged laugh. Her shoulders slumped in relief. “False alarm. Of course.”
She bent to pick up her sketchpad and screamed.
A security guard stood at the entrance, flashlight in hand.
“Ma’am, What are you doing here?"
She gasped, clutching her chest.
“I...I’m an intern! Here's my ID.” She fumbled to flash her card. “I just came in to sketch something, I didn’t know the system was.....” Her voice trailed off.
The guard sighed, clearly annoyed.
He glanced at the Portrait behind her. “It's a weird painting, it always sets people off, even a kid once passed out in front of it?”
Mara chuckled nervously. “Yeah. It’s got a… presence.”
“Wrap up and leave. Don’t get me in trouble.”
She nodded, grabbing her sketchpad, avoiding the painting’s gaze as she backed away. “Thanks. I’ll just....leave”
The moment she stepped outside, the cool air hit her like a wave of relief. Yes there was something spooky in there. She sat on the gallery’s front steps, letting her heartbeat slow down.
Then she opened her sketchpad, to the unfinished drawing. There was something wrong there.
In her charcoal strokes, the woman’s eyes and mouth were wide open and in the shadowy background behind the velvet chair, Mara had somehow sketched a mirror—with a figure standing in it.
Her.
She hadn’t drawn that... nope.... someone or something else did!
The sound of someone laughing behind her made her jump.
Leo stood by the lamppost, waving. “You did it! You legend!”
She gave a weak smile and shook her head. “Leo, it's true what they say about the portrait........"
Her voice trailed off again as she looked back toward the tall glass doors of the gallery.
Inside, the Portrait stood exactly as before.
The woman in the velvet chair.
But this time, her head was turned a little bit more.
Just enough to watch her leave.
Images is AI generated.
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