Chapter 1: The Blink

I knew something was wrong when the mirror blinked before I did.

At first, I blamed exhaustion.

Three nights without proper sleep could make anyone hallucinate. Especially after the accident. Especially after the funeral.

But when my reflection smiled after I stopped…

I realized I was still dreaming.

The apartment around me looked normal enough — dim yellow lights, rain tapping softly against the window, half-empty coffee cups littering my desk like failed attempts at consciousness. The digital clock beside my bed read 3:17 AM.

It had read that same time every night this week.

I stumbled backward from the mirror, my pulse thudding in my ears. The reflection copied me a second too late, like a bad internet connection struggling to keep up.

“No,” I whispered.

The reflection whispered it too.

But its mouth kept moving after mine stopped.

“You’re getting closer.”

I froze.

Every instinct screamed at me to look away, but I couldn’t. The version of me inside the mirror tilted its head slowly, eyes darker than they should’ve been, smile stretched too wide.

Then the lights went out.

Darkness swallowed the apartment whole.

I heard breathing behind me.

Not mine.

I spun around, but there was nothing there except the faint outline of furniture drowned in shadow. My chest tightened. The air felt wrong — heavy, thick, almost liquid.

And then my phone rang.

The sound exploded through the silence.

I nearly dropped it grabbing for the device on my desk. Unknown Number.

My fingers trembled as I answered.

Static.

Then a woman’s voice whispered through the distortion.

“Wake up before he finds you.”

The call ended.

I stared at the screen, heart hammering violently now.

That voice…

It sounded exactly like my mother.

But my mother had been dead for three years.

A sudden knock echoed from inside the apartment.

Not the front door.

The bedroom closet.

Three slow knocks.

I backed away instinctively.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

The mirror behind me cracked.

I turned just in time to see my reflection still standing there.

Smiling.

Even though I wasn’t.

Then my phone lit up with a message from my dead mother.

FOLLOW FOR CHAPTER 2