The shards of glass rained down like glittering knives. Georgina threw her arms over her head, ducking behind Ethan, who—despite the fact that he was bleeding and pale—muttered, "Don't worry, glass only kills people in horror movies. In real life it just gives you tetanus."
"Not helping!" Georgina hissed.
The crash echoed through the alley as fragments pinged against trash cans and shattered bottles. Above them, the broken window gaped like a black mouth. Something was moving in the frame, a silhouette crawling upside-down, its limbs jointed wrong, like it had borrowed the idea of a human body but assembled it with too many instructions left over.
"Tell me you see that," Ethan wheezed.
Georgina nodded, her throat dry. "If I say no, will it go away?"
"Doubtful."
The thing crawled further into view, its fingers digging into brick, leaving gouges behind. Its face—or what it was pretending was a face—shifted as it looked down at them. Sometimes it was Ethan's, sometimes hers, sometimes something in between.
"Okay," Ethan muttered, "that's new. It's doing impressions now."
"Run?" Georgina whispered.
"Run."
They bolted.
Madison stood in front of the destroyed mirror, her reflection scattered across the shards on the floor. Only… they weren't all her. Some pieces showed her face smiling, others showed her screaming. In one, she wasn't even there—just an empty room behind her.
Her chest heaved. "This isn't real. This isn't real."
But the fragments whispered, all at once.
It is real. It has always been real.
The apartment was colder now. She could see her own breath. She wrapped her arms around herself, glancing at the photo still on the bed—the one of Georgina's mother holding the baby. The handwriting glared at her: I never left you.
A creak from the kitchen made her whip around.
"Georgina?" she called out weakly.
No answer.
She forced herself forward, every step slow, until she reached the kitchen doorway. The light above flickered, and for a split second she swore she saw someone standing at the counter. A woman's silhouette.
When the light steadied, the figure was gone.
Madison's stomach lurched. She turned back toward the bedroom—
And stopped.
A figure was sitting calmly on her bed. Hands folded. Legs crossed. A woman.
Her mother.
Madison's throat closed. "That's not possible."
The woman tilted her head, smiling faintly. "Neither was surviving what they did to me. And yet, here we are."
Ethan and Georgina tore down the alley, their footsteps splashing through puddles. The streets ahead stretched empty, the flickering orange of lampposts making everything look twice as eerie.
Behind them, the creature moved across the walls like a spider, fast and jerky.
Georgina risked a glance back and nearly tripped. "It's catching up!"
Ethan coughed, clutching his ribs. "Of course it is. Monsters never take smoke breaks."
They darted around a corner, where a fire escape clung to the side of an old bookstore. Ethan pointed up. "Climb!"
Georgina hesitated. "You can barely walk!"
"Yeah, well, dying's worse cardio."
He shoved her toward the ladder. With no time to argue, she scrambled up, metal rattling under her weight. Ethan followed, wincing with every movement.
The creature reached the corner just as Ethan pulled himself onto the first landing. It looked up at them, tilting its head. Then, in Ethan's voice, it called:
"Georgina. Wait."
Her stomach turned. She froze on the ladder, her knuckles white.
The real Ethan grabbed her ankle. "Don't listen."
The thing's face peeled into a smile. Its voice dropped lower. "He's lying. He isn't who you think."
The fire escape shuddered violently as it began to climb after them, faster than seemed possible.
"Higher!" Ethan gasped.
They scrambled upward, reaching the rooftop just as the creature's hand brushed Ethan's boot. He kicked hard, metal screeching, and they rolled onto the tar-paper roof.
The night air was heavy, filled with the creature's screeches from below.
Georgina collapsed on her back, panting. "We can't keep running forever."
Ethan lay beside her, blood seeping through his shirt. "We don't have to. We just have to last longer than it does."
"That's… not reassuring."
"Wasn't meant to be."
Madison gripped the bedpost, trying not to collapse. The woman sitting there looked exactly like her mother. The same warmth in her eyes. The same voice.
But after what she'd just seen in the mirror, she didn't know what to believe.
"You died," Madison whispered.
The woman shook her head. "No. I was silenced. Your father did terrible things. He worked with them—the ones who guard the mirror. They made me disappear."
"Them?" Madison's voice cracked.
Her mother leaned forward, her expression sharpening. "The mirror isn't just glass. It's a door. And once you open a door, someone always wants to come through."
Madison's legs weakened. She sat heavily on the edge of the dresser. "So Georgina was telling the truth."
The woman reached out, her hand almost touching Madison's. "Yes. And you have a choice. Help her—or help the thing pretending to be her."
Madison's chest tightened. "And if I choose wrong?"
Her mother's smile faded. "Then we all lose."
On the roof, Georgina crawled toward the edge, peering down. The creature was pacing the alley, glaring upward. Its body flickered between shapes—Ethan, Georgina, Madison, and then a blank slate of shadow.
"It's waiting," she whispered.
"Of course it is," Ethan muttered, coughing hard. "Monsters are patient. That's what makes them good at therapy."
Georgina gave him a look, somewhere between disbelief and relief. Even bleeding out, he was still cracking jokes.
But the fear in his eyes betrayed him.
"Ethan," she said softly, "how long before you pass out?"
He didn't answer.
"Ethan—"
"Long enough," he cut in, though his voice was weaker now.
Georgina pressed her hands against his wound. "We need help."
"Yeah," Ethan groaned, eyes fluttering. "Call 911 and tell them a demon Ethan is chasing us through alleys. That'll go great."
She glared at him. "I'm serious."
"So am I."
For a moment, silence fell between them.
Then a voice drifted from the stairwell at the far end of the roof.
"I wouldn't waste time arguing," it said.
They both turned sharply.
Standing in the shadows of the stairwell was a figure. A woman.
Georgina's breath caught.
"Mom?"
The woman stepped forward, her face lit by the weak glow of the rooftop lights. It was her. Older, worn, but undeniably her.
"I told you," she said softly. "The mirror doesn't just reflect. It takes. And now, it wants everything."
Madison's apartment lights flickered violently. The shards of glass began to hum, vibrating on the floor.
Her mother's voice cut through the chaos. "Madison—choose. Help me, or help it."
The reflections in the shards screamed louder, each one showing different futures: Madison crowned in wealth, Madison crying alone, Madison lying in a coffin.
Her pulse roared in her ears.
And with shaking hands, Madison reached down and picked up a shard.
Her reflection in it smiled, blood dripping from its lips.
On the rooftop, Georgina gripped her mother's arm, terrified and overwhelmed. "How do we stop it?"
Her mother's eyes darkened. "We don't."
Ethan's head shot up. "Excuse me? That's not the pep talk I was hoping for."
Her mother looked at them both with grim finality. "You don't stop something like this. You survive it. Until it decides what it wants."
The creature below shrieked, rattling the fire escape, shaking the entire building.
Georgina's mother pulled them both close, whispering quickly, urgently:
"The mirror never lies. It shows what's coming. And what's coming…"
Her voice faltered.
Georgina gripped her tighter. "What? Tell me!"
But before her mother could answer, the rooftop hatch slammed open.
A figure climbed out.
Madison.
Her eyes glowing faintly.
And in her hand, a shard of the mirror, dripping with fresh blood.