Lena's back hit the edge of the desk.
Her double—the thing that wore her face—crawled closer, its too-long limbs twisting unnaturally as it dragged itself across the floor. Its mouth was still moving, shaping words, but no sound came out.
Not at first.
Then—a whisper.
"You let us in, Lena."
The voice was hers.
But wrong.
Too hollow. Too layered, as if something else was speaking through her.
Lena's breath came in ragged gasps.
"This isn't real. This isn't real."
The thing smiled.
"Oh, but it is."
It lunged.
Lena dodged just in time, scrambling across the desk as the thing slammed into the wood. Books and papers scattered to the floor. The old lamp flickered violently, casting shadows that moved on their own.
She grabbed the nearest object—a heavy brass candlestick—and swung.
The impact sent the thing reeling back, its head twisting at an unnatural angle. For a second, Lena thought it was dead—
Then it snapped its neck back into place.
And laughed.
A horrible, choking sound that made Lena's stomach twist.
She bolted for the door.
The hallway was still black as ink, but she didn't care. Anywhere was better than here.
She tore through the darkness, her pulse hammering. The house shifted around her, stretching, twisting. The floor felt softer under her feet, as if she was running on something alive.
The walls whispered.
"Lena. Lena. Lena."
The voices were her own now.
She reached the staircase, taking the steps two at a time—
Then she tripped.
The floor collapsed beneath her.
She fell hard, crashing through rotting wood, through thick, suffocating fog—
And landed with a sickening thud.
Pain shot through her ribs.
She coughed, pushing herself up, vision swimming. The air down here was thick, wet. The smell of mold and something metallic filled her nose.
And then she realized—
She was in the basement.
No. No, no, no.
She scrambled to her feet, heart pounding.
The basement was darker now, the cracks in the stone floor wider, fog seeping up from beneath them. The whispering was louder here, the voices hungry.
And then—
A sound.
A heartbeat.
Lena froze.
It was coming from below the floor.
Slow. Deep.
The stone bulged beneath her feet, as if something underneath was breathing. Waking up.
And then—
The floor split open.
Something began to rise.
A shape, shifting in the mist.
Not human.
Not anymore.
And in the thick, choking dark, she heard her grandmother's voice.
"You should have never come back, Lena."