Creative writing: Gothic Monologue part 2

The door had shut.  I told myself it was probably the wind.  I began to ascend the staircase moving a little quicker than before.  When I reached the top I was at the end of a long narrow corridor, and at the opposite end was a door.  It was the only door, something I found very odd.  Such a large house…but only one door.  I made my way towards it, shining my light at the cracked walls as I went.  On reaching the door I noticed something else that seemed odd.  The handle of the door was in the shape of a bat, with its lifeless eyes staring out at me.  I wondered if I should just go back, you would have, but I had come this far so I had to go on.  I reached for the handle and turned.

If what I’d seen up till now was weird, the contents of this room were even more so.  There was no sign of a light source, nor any windows letting in natural daylight, but I could see everything so I pocketed my phone.  The walls of the room were not white like the rest of the house; they were a rich blood red.  In the middle of the room stood a mirror, about as high as the ceiling and with its wooden back facing the door.  It looked like there was something engraved on the back, but I was too far away to see clearly.  This confused me, why would someone move out and just leave a single mirror? 

Again I was overcome with curiosity and unable to leave.  I went up to the back of the mirror, feeling insignificant in such an enormous room, I noticed something shocking.  The engraving on the back was words, words that appeared to have been scratched on with someone’s finger nails, and what they said was chilling.

Tricked into the perfect prison,

Forced to wither away to dust,

Never again will it stalk the night,

Its evil will decay and rust.

Those who are fooled by its own tricks,

And enter its tomb of hate,

Not wise enough to heed this warning, 

Will meet a painfully grim fate.