Fortify the Sanctuary
Lara's chest heaved as she pressed her back against the door, the rhythmic tapping growing louder on the other side. Her hand trembled as she bolted the lock and slid the chain into place. Whatever was out there, she wasn't letting it in.
The lights in her apartment flickered again, the dim bulb overhead buzzing ominously. Shadows gathered in the corners of the room, stretching unnaturally as if they had a life of their own. Lara forced herself to breathe deeply, her mind racing through possibilities.
She grabbed a chair from the kitchen and wedged it under the doorknob. It wasn't much, but it made her feel marginally safer. The tapping slowed, turning into deliberate, measured knocks.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Who's there?" Lara shouted, her voice cracking.
No answer.
Grabbing her phone, she opened Margot's number and hesitated. Would Margot even pick up? And could she trust her? But Margot's warning echoed in her mind: "If you stay here, it will follow you here."
The knocking stopped.
Lara strained her ears, her fingers gripping the phone tightly. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, a whisper came through the crack beneath the door—soft, in
She backed away, her hands shaking as she dialed Margot's number.
The phone rang twice before Margot answered.
"You didn't open it, did you?" Margot's voice was sharp, cutting through Lara's fear.
"No," Lara whispered, her voice barely audible. "It's still out there. What is it?"
Margot exhaled heavily on the other end. "It's a reflection, Lara. A fractured piece of this city's mirror. It's not human, but it's wearing a human shape—yours, if I had to guess."
Lara's blood ran cold. "Mine? What does it want?"
"To replace you," Margot said bluntly. "To step through the mirror and take your place in this world."
Lara's knees buckled, and she sank onto the couch. "Why me? Why now?"
"You've seen the photograph," Margot explained, her tone urgent. "You've started noticing the cracks. That makes you vulnerable."
Lara closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing. "How do I stop it?"
"You don't," Margot said. "You survive. For now, you need to stay inside. Don't let it in. Don't trust anyone who knocks. Not even Victor."
Lara's eyes widened. "Victor? Why not Victor?"
Margot hesitated. "Because reflections can take many forms. It might not be him."
A chill ran down Lara's spine.
The phone crackled, and Margot's voice grew distant. "Whatever you do, don't look into any mirrors. That's how it'll try to pull you in. I'll—"
The line went dead.
Lara stared at her phone, her heart pounding. She scrambled to unplug the only mirror in the apartment—the one in the bathroom. As she covered it with a towel, the lights flickered violently, and a faint scraping sound echoed through the walls.
Something was in the apartment building.
The rhythmic tapping started again, this time from the living room window. Slowly, Lara turned. The blinds were drawn, but she could see a shadow moving just beyond them.
"Lara," a voice called softly, almost too faint to hear.
It was Victor.
"Lara, it's me," he said, his tone calm and familiar. "I heard something's wrong. Let me in."
Her mind raced. Was it really him? Or was it what Margot had warned about?
"Victor?" she called hesitantly. "How did you get to the window?"
There was a pause. "I… climbed down from my balcony," he said, his voice faltering. "Come on, Lara. It's freezing out here."
Something about his tone felt off—too calculated, too measured.
"I can't let you in," Lara said firmly, her voice trembling.
The shadow shifted. "Lara, please," Victor said again, his tone growing more insistent. "It's not safe out here. If you don't let me in, I could die."
Her breath hitched. The thought of leaving him out there, if it really was Victor, was almost unbearable. But Margot's warning played over and over in her head: "Don't trust anyone who knocks."
The tapping at the window stopped. For a moment, there was silence. Then came the voice again—lower, darker, and dripping with malice.
"Let me in, Lara."
Her blood froze. The voice wasn't Victor's anymore.
Fighting the rising panic, Lara dragged the couch toward the window, barricading it with as much furniture as she could find. The scraping and tapping grew more aggressive, the glass rattling in its frame.
"You can't hide forever," the voice growled, no longer pretending to be Victor.
Lara clutched the photograph, her mind racing. She flipped it over again, searching for anything she might have missed. The words on the back had changed.
"Look closer."
The photograph felt warm in her hands, almost alive. Desperate, she held it under the magnifying glass again, focusing on the figure beneath the willow tree. This time, the figure's head tilted further, its long arms stretching unnaturally toward the edges of the image.
In its hand, it held something—small, square, and glinting faintly in the light. Lara squinted, her heart pounding as she realized what it was.
A key.
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