The room still smelled like rain and fear.
Ava sat in the corner of the interrogation room, her hands trembling, eyes fixed on the table.
"You're saying you don't remember anything?" the officer asked.
She shook her head slowly.
"There was a boy," she whispered. "Ethan… he—he did everything."
The officers exchanged a glance.
One of them leaned forward.
"There is no record of anyone named Ethan connected to you."
Silence.
"That's not possible," Ava said quickly. "He was always there. He talked to me. He—"
"We checked your phone records," the officer interrupted. "Every message… was sent from your device."
Her chest tightened.
"No… he used different numbers."
The officer slid a file across the table.
Photos.
Printed messages.
Screenshots.
All from the same number.
Hers.
"You created fake contacts," he said calmly. "You renamed your own number. You were talking to yourself."
Ava's ears rang.
"No… no, that's not true…"
But deep inside—
Something cracked.
"You weren't just messaging," the officer continued. "You were planning."
He opened another file.
Maps.
Names.
Schedules.
People who had disappeared.
"You wrote everything down," he said. "Every detail."
Ava's breathing became uneven.
"I didn't… I couldn't…"
The officer leaned in slightly.
"Then tell me," he said quietly, "why every victim had one thing in common."
A pause.
"They spoke to you… and then they stopped."
Her vision blurred.
Flash.
A hallway.
Someone laughing at her.
Flash.
A message typed in anger.
They don't deserve to exist.
Flash.
A voice.
Soft.
Familiar.
You're right.
Ava froze.
That voice.
Not Ethan's.
Her own.
"No…" she whispered.
The officer watched her carefully.
"You said there was someone else," he said. "Ethan."
Ava looked up slowly.
Her lips trembled.
"What if…" she said, barely audible, "he wasn't a person?"
The room went still.
"What do you mean?" the officer asked.
Ava's eyes filled with something darker than fear.
Recognition.
"He didn't come into my life," she said.
"He… came out of me."
Silence.
"Every time I felt alone…" she continued, "every time I was hurt… every time I wanted someone to stay…"
Her voice cracked.
"I made him."
The officer frowned. "A coping mechanism?"
Ava shook her head.
Slowly.
"No."
Her lips curled slightly.
Not into a smile.
Something worse.
"A replacement."
The lights flickered.
Just once.
Then steadied.
Ava blinked.
And suddenly—
She wasn't confused anymore.
Her posture changed.
Relaxed.
Still.
Too still.
The officer noticed.
"Are you okay?"
Ava looked up.
But something in her eyes… wasn't the same.
"You've been asking about Ethan," she said softly.
Her voice was calmer now.
Colder.
"Why?" the officer asked.
Ava tilted her head slightly.
"Because you think he's gone."
A pause.
"He's not."
The officer's grip tightened on his pen.
"What are you saying?"
Ava smiled.
Slowly.
"You've been talking to him this whole time."
Silence crashed into the room.
"That's not funny," the officer said firmly.
Ava leaned forward.
Just slightly.
"He learns," she whispered.
"He watches."
"He adapts."
A flicker.
Again.
"And when I couldn't handle things anymore…" she continued, "he took over."
The officer stood up.
"This interview is over."
But Ava didn't move.
"You think I created him," she said.
A pause.
"But what if…"
Her smile widened.
Just a little.
"He created me… to hide?"
The officer froze.
The lights went out.
Total darkness.
A second passed.
Two.
Then—
The backup lights flickered on.
Dim.
Red.
Ava was gone.
The chair was empty.
The door still locked.
No broken windows.
No sound.
Nothing.
Only one thing left behind.
On the table.
A message.
Scratched into the wood.
Fresh.
You're mine.
Weeks Later
The case was sealed.
Unsolved.
Unexplainable.
The officer couldn't sleep anymore.
Every night at exactly 2:17 AM—
His phone would vibrate.
Unknown number.
First message:
Do you understand now?
Second night:
She was never alone.
Third night:
Neither are you.
He tried to block it.
Change phones.
Ignore it.
It didn't stop.
One night, he finally replied.
"Who is this?"
The response came instantly.
You already know me.
His hands shook.
"No. I don't."
Three dots appeared.
Typing.
Then—
I'm the part of you that listens when no one else does.
His breath caught.
I'm the voice you trust.
A pause.
I'm the one who stays.
The officer dropped his phone.
Because now—
That voice…
It didn't sound like a stranger.
It sounded like him.
The screen lit up again
Final message:
You're mine.