---
Kye had no time to blink.
The voice—his voice—whispered from the bush, again: "They know."
He spun toward the source, feet braced, heart yanking the rest of his body forward like a pulled thread. But there was no one. Just leaves, curling shadows, and a long smear of blood down a tree trunk that hadn't been there seconds before.
No echoes. No movement.
Except the bush. Still rustling.
Kye squinted. "Luca?" he called softly. "Arun?"
Nothing.
Then something shifted—wrongly. Not the leaves, but the space around them. A tilt in the angle of shadows. A too-long pause before they returned to stillness.
Kye backed away slowly.
His shoes crunched the forest floor—louder now, too loud. The tension that had drained slightly in the comedic blur of recent hours now returned like a weight pressed into his chest. His skin felt thin. His mouth dry. He tasted iron at the back of his tongue, but hadn't bit anything.
He didn't even realize he'd started running again.
---
The first thirty seconds were just instinct. No destination, no map, just a pulsing tempo in his ears matching his feet.
thumpthumpthump
Left. Right. Dodge. Duck. Eyes scanning the blur of trees for any hint of movement.
Branches snapped. Not his.
Another crunch. Not his.
Then came the worst sound of all: breath. A short, clipped inhale—not his own—somewhere too close behind him.
Kye skidded behind a fallen log, body sliding hard into the leaves. He winced. His shoulder throbbed. But his mouth clamped shut.
There it was again.
The breathing.
Getting closer.
He pressed his back flat, angled to watch the narrow space between the branches.
A girl stumbled through—blood smeared across her cheek. Pale hoodie, soaked at the bottom.
His heart jumped.
"Lena?" he whispered.
She didn't respond. She kept running, darting through a clearing ahead.
Another student behind her. And another.
Three now. All bolting like prey.
Relief flooded through him. Not everyone was gone.
Then one of them slowed.
Kye squinted through the underbrush.
It was Lena again.
He froze.
But she'd just passed him.
Except—her hoodie didn't have blood. And she was smiling.
Worse, the smile didn't match her eyes. It was a crooked, sunken thing, like a mask tugged up by strings that didn't want to move.
And as she turned toward the others, her body warped for half a second—too long limbs, skin that twitched like static—before snapping back into place.
Kye shoved his hand into his mouth to stop the scream.
---
They were mimicking them.
---
He crawled backwards like a crab, fists digging into dirt, breath coming out in sharp exhales.
"Think, Kye, think," he whispered. "What's the rule? Always observe the pattern."
It was one of the first things he learned from chess—watch the board, not just the move.
The mimic hadn't noticed him. Yet. But the original Lena?
Was she dead? Being copied? Could they read minds? His thoughts spiraled faster than he could keep up.
Another mimic joined the group. "Hey, did anyone see Kye?" it asked, wearing Arun's voice.
They laughed. Then stopped laughing. Like a record scratched off.
Every one of their heads turned at the same time.
Right toward him.
"Oh fu—"
---
He ran.
This time, no dodging. Just flat-out sprinting. Branches smacked him. One got him across the cheek—he felt the sting, and then the warmth of blood.
He tripped. Recovered. Kept going.
Eventually, he found a hollow under a rock ledge. Small. Cold. Hidden.
He collapsed inside, shaking.
It was only then that he realized he'd been crying silently.
---
Minutes passed. Or hours. He didn't know. The dream twisted time like warm metal.
His thoughts turned in circles.
Why him?
Why now?
And—if these things were so smart—how were they being directed?
That's when he remembered the voice in the bush. His own.
There's a leak.
---
When the footsteps came again, he was ready.
Kind of.
He had a stick.
A thick one, at least. He gripped it like a baseball bat and braced his back against the cave wall.
"No panic," he muttered. "You've studied this. Sort of. Battle tactics. Uh—flank. No, wait, that's for teams. Pressure points. Use terrain. Try to blindside."
He gulped air.
"Yeah. Real Sun Tzu of you."
---
The first figure appeared like a shadow unpeeling from the trees.
It looked like Arun again. Same hoodie. Same grin.
Kye waited.
Another emerged.
Lena.
Then one he didn't recognize. Face blurred. As if the dream didn't have enough detail loaded in.
That one moved wrong. Limbs stuttering like corrupted code. As it stepped, the body bent in half—backward. Bones creaked like wet sticks.
Kye's stomach turned.
Okay. No witty jokes now.
---
He held his breath.
They got closer.
And closer.
Then…stopped.
Like they were waiting for something.
One reached down and grabbed a stone—smelled it—and hissed.
Suddenly its head twisted fully around, neck folding like a wet towel.
And its eyes locked on Kye.
---
He acted on pure instinct.
Kye screamed, vaulted from the hiding place, and swung the branch.
Crack.
It hit something.
The thing shrieked—horrible and high-pitched, not human.
Kye turned and ran—again.
But this time, something inside him didn't let him flee completely.
Halfway into his escape, he stopped.
Heart pounding.
The stick still in hand.
---
Steel your nerves.
He knew if he ran again, he'd always run.
No answers. No control. Just prey.
"I can't do that forever."
He muttered it under his breath. Then louder. "I won't do that forever."
He turned.
Walked back.
And waited.
---
The first creature leapt at him.
He dodged—not gracefully—but with luck. It smacked into the dirt.
Kye brought the branch down again.
This time harder.
Whack.
It groaned.
He jabbed the end into its face. Again. And again.
Finally, the creature burst—not blood, but black dust.
Kye stumbled back, coughing, arms shaking.
He'd done it.
He'd fought.
And—
"Behind you."
He spun—too late.
A mimic version of Luca lunged out of the trees, mouth open wide enough to snap bone.
—Kye blinked, rooted in place.
His own voice echoed from the shrubs. Identical. Not a mimic. Not a recording. Him. He could hear his own tone, his pitch—right down to that annoying upward inflection he hated when he was nervous.
"Hey, Luca," the second Kye's voice called from somewhere deeper. A fake cough. "I, uh, think I dropped my knife back there. Can you—?"
No answer. Kye didn't wait.
He bolted.
Branches whipped at his face. His legs pumped through pine needles and damp soil. His lungs burned.
He ran like his body remembered the rules and his mind hadn't caught up. Every step was a burst of controlled panic, a blur of trees and light and shadows that flickered wrong.
He didn't even try to think.
—
Eventually, the woods thinned. Not a clearing, but less tangled. Light bled through the canopy in a sickly yellow hue. He crouched behind a split boulder, panting.
His hands were shaking.
He couldn't even begin to understand what was going on, but one thing was certain:
Something had taken his voice. And if it could do that, what else had it taken?
He checked his phone—still no signal. No time distortion noticed yet, but something gnawed at the edge of his awareness.
He stayed low, crawling slightly until the boulder completely shielded him. Just for a second.
Just a second to think.
What do I know?
That voice was mine. But not me. And it knew Luca's name. Was it following me? Pretending to be me? Or... replacing me?
He closed his eyes.
—
Something rustled nearby.
Kye tensed. His heart skipped.
Footsteps. Two pairs. Soft. Conversational. Two girls laughing—genuinely laughing—approaching through the bush.
He peeked.
Mika and Leena. Both walking casually, twigs snapping under their shoes. Leena carried a bundle of wild berries in her jacket.
His heart leapt.
"Kye?" Mika said, spotting him.
"Oh my God, there you are," Leena added. "We thought you were one of the first caught."
He didn't speak right away.
Then:
"Caught by who?"
Their smiles cracked slightly.
Mika chuckled, trying to play it off. "You know. The camp staff. They're doing some kind of horror tag, right?"
Leena's face tensed. Just for a second.
It was enough.
They don't know I know.
Or worse.
They think I still believe this is a game.
"Yeah," Kye forced a laugh. "Tag. Freaked me out earlier."
"Totally," Leena said. "Come on, we found a good spot to rest. You'll love it."
He didn't move.
His fingers curled around the small rock at his feet. Just in case.
He followed, but at a distance.
—
The rest spot was a shallow cave tucked behind a bush wall. Very hard to see.
Too perfect.
Mika crouched. "Inside. It's warm."
Kye scanned the shadows. Nothing.
Still...
He walked up, paused at the entrance. They were both inside already. He made a show of removing his backpack like he was getting comfortable.
And then—
He slammed the pack into Mika's side, hard. She gasped and tumbled deeper in. He threw the stone at Leena's head—missed—but used the second it gave him to bolt.
Again.
They didn't follow immediately. But he could hear something growling—low and guttural—behind him.
So much for allies.
—
His legs ached.
You're going to collapse.
Kye stumbled into a glade. He dropped to his knees, gasping. A shallow stream trickled nearby. His reflection in the water shimmered unnaturally, the surface warping before his face settled in it.
That wasn't his expression.
He slapped the water.
"Get a grip," he whispered.
—
Then came the scream.
Male. Close.
A second later, someone barreled out from the woods.
Jason.
Bleeding, face scratched, wild-eyed.
Kye stood as Jason stumbled toward him. "They're not people!" Jason yelled. "Don't—don't let them get near—"
Something grabbed Jason's leg and yanked him backward.
A shadow burst through the trees—tall, humanoid, but its joints were wrong. Its arms were too long, the elbows bending backwards like a spider's. Its head twitched side to side, too fast to follow.
It didn't move like a person.
It wasn't a person.
Jason screamed again.
And Kye snapped.
He didn't think.
He launched forward, grabbing a stick off the ground.
"Let go of him!" he shouted.
The creature paused, almost confused by the interruption.
Kye swung wildly.
The stick cracked against the thing's side—but instead of breaking bones, it bent inward. As if the creature had no skeleton at all.
The thing whirled on him. Its head unraveled, the face splitting like paper peeling, revealing a mess of teeth and tongue-like tendrils.
He gagged.
It lunged.
Kye ducked. Slid. Grabbed mud and threw it straight into the face-mouth-thing.
It shrieked.
He grabbed Jason's wrist and dragged him toward the stream.
Jason was limping, barely conscious.
The creature followed.
But it didn't run.
It stalked.
As if it knew it would catch them.
—
Kye's mind raced.
Think, dammit. What do you know?
It doesn't like mud.
It's soft-bodied.
It doesn't rush.
So it's confident.
He scanned the ground. Water. Stones. Sunlight.
Sunlight.
The glade was brighter than the forest. Maybe the things didn't like it here. Maybe—
A shadow fell across them.
Too late.
Kye shoved Jason aside and turned to face it.
He had no weapon. No plan.
Just a flat rock in his hand and a gut full of fear.
He braced his legs.
"Alright," he whispered. "You want a fight?"
He swallowed the panic.
Steeled his nerves.
"Let's dance, spaghetti face."
—