The world seemed to shift under Lucas's feet, the ground now unsteady beneath him. He had always known something was off, something out of place, but this—this was a whole new kind of terror.
Alex wasn't real. Alex couldn't be real. Lucas had spent the entire afternoon replaying every moment with him, every word, every smile. He had looked at Alex with such certainty, such a calm sense of trust, that now, in the cold light of reality, it felt like a cruel joke. It didn't make sense, though. If Alex wasn't real, why had Lucas felt so connected to him? Why did he feel like he was his friend?
Lucas sat on the edge of his bed, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress as his breath quickened. The room was spinning, the shadows in the corners twisting, as if they were alive, crawling closer, pressing against him. His mind raced, each thought slipping away faster than he could catch it. He had to figure this out. He had to understand what was happening to him.
His thoughts flickered back to the strange way people ignored him when he was with Alex. It was as if the world was blind to them, as if everyone around them had agreed to pretend that Alex didn't exist. But there was more to it. The way Alex had looked at him just before leaving—like he knew Lucas had started to see the truth. The way his smile had faded into something darker. It was as if Alex had been waiting for this moment, waiting for Lucas to figure it all out.
Lucas squeezed his eyes shut, but when he opened them again, the shadows seemed to grow, pressing against the walls, seeping into every corner of the room. He could hear the faint sound of whispers again, just at the edge of his hearing.
"Lucas…"
The voice was soft at first, almost tender, but then it came again, louder, sharper.
"Lucas, you're not going to get away from this."
The words were ice-cold, sending a shiver down his spine. It was Alex's voice—he was still here. But there was something wrong with it now. It wasn't the friendly tone he'd grown used to. This was darker, twisted, like the calm before a storm.
Lucas stood up, his hands trembling as he scanned the room. The shadows seemed to reach out, creeping into the corners of his vision. His breath came in shallow gasps. He could feel Alex's presence, even if he couldn't see him.
"No…" Lucas whispered, his voice trembling. "No, this can't be happening."
The room was silent for a moment, the whispers fading away. Then Alex's voice broke through the silence once more.
"Do you really think you can escape me now?" Alex's voice was now laced with an edge, a sharpness that made Lucas's heart race. "You've been living in a lie, Lucas. You think you're safe, but you're not. You've never been safe."
Lucas backed away from the shadows, his mind spiraling into chaos. What was real? What wasn't? Was he even real? His reflection in the mirror was distorted, his face a blur of twisted lines, his features warping before his eyes. He couldn't trust his own senses anymore. He couldn't trust anything.
"No… this isn't real," Lucas muttered, trying to steady himself, his hands gripping his head in desperation. "It's not real. You're not real."
But the voice came again, this time closer, like Alex was standing right behind him.
"I am as real as you are," Alex whispered, his voice dripping with malice. "And soon, everyone will see you for what you really are. You're just like me. We're the same, Lucas. We've always been the same."
The words felt like a blow to Lucas's chest, the weight of them suffocating him. He wanted to scream, wanted to run, but his body wouldn't move. The room seemed to close in on him, the walls pressing tighter, suffocating him with the growing presence of something he couldn't understand.
"You're wrong," Lucas gasped, but the words felt weak, fragile in the face of the rising panic. "I'm not like you. I'm not like you at all."
Alex's laughter echoed through the room, soft at first, then building into something more cruel, more mocking. It was a laugh that sent cold shivers down Lucas's spine, a laugh that made him feel small, insignificant.
"Oh, but you are," Alex said, his voice now cold and sharp. "You are like me. You've always been."
Lucas's head spun as the words hit him like a tidal wave. Was Alex telling the truth? Was he really losing his mind? Was he becoming something… something monstrous, something twisted?
"You don't know anything!" Lucas shouted, his voice rising in panic. "I'm not crazy! I'm not like you!"
But the shadows seemed to respond, flickering in the corners of the room like living things, crawling toward him, swallowing the light. He could feel them tightening around him, pushing him further into a corner.
Alex's voice came again, but this time, it was no longer playful or comforting. It was dark, threatening.
"You don't get it, do you, Lucas?" Alex's voice was a hiss, cold and venomous. "I made you. I've always been here. And I'll never leave you. No matter how hard you try to escape, you'll never be free."
Lucas's breath caught in his throat. The shadows surged, swallowing everything in their path, and for the first time, he realized he wasn't just afraid of Alex. He was afraid of himself. Was he really losing his grip on reality? Was Alex a part of him, a manifestation of his broken mind? Was the truth that he had never really been alone?
"No…" Lucas whispered again, more to himself than anyone else. "No… I won't let you take me. I won't let you control me."
But Alex was already laughing again, the sound growing louder, more sinister.
"You already are, Lucas. You always have been."
The room felt like it was closing in on him, the shadows thickening, the air growing heavy with the weight of his fear. He was suffocating in the dark, trapped in a world that wasn't his own, with a friend—no, a shadow—who he had never truly known.
And as the darkness swallowed him whole, Lucas knew one thing for sure: there was no escaping this nightmare.