Lila brings the files home. The voice memos of Evelyne begin to unravel her. What was obsession now becomes reflection—mirror-images of fear, insight, and fate. Alone in her apartment, Lila begins to feel Evelyne's presence as more than memory. Something is coming for her. Or waking inside her.
---
Last Moment:
> "Welcome back, Evelyne."
---
The words followed her home.
They weren't typed in blood or flashing on a screen.
They didn't need to be.
> "Welcome back, Evelyne."
They echoed inside her skull like a curse.
Lila sat at her kitchen table, lights off, city murmuring beyond the cracked window. She had locked the door. Bolted it. Wedged a chair beneath the knob like she was thirteen again, hiding from the night.
But the fear wasn't outside.
It was inside.
She pulled the stolen drive from her coat pocket. Slid it into her laptop. Held her breath.
The folder blinked open.
EVELYNE_KAI/
Subfolders:
•Audio_Memos
•Sketches
•Mirrors
•Red_Thread
Her cursor hovered over Audio_Memos.
One file name caught her eye.
voice_ek_memo_003-LASTWARN.wav
She clicked.
A soft hiss.
Then:
> "If you've opened this, then I didn't make it. Or worse—I became what he wanted. He'll call you muse. He'll say you're unlike the others. That he sees you. But he's not looking at you. He's sketching his next version. Of himself."
Lila's chest tightened.
The voice continued:
> "He doesn't want to own beauty. He wants to erase it. Rewrite it. Until you're not sure who drew who. Until you speak with his voice. Until you forget the color of your own name."
A beat.
> "I marked what I could. If you found this, then maybe the mirror still remembers. Maybe it's still showing you the cracks. You just have to know where to look."
Click
Silence....
Lila sat frozen.
The light on her desk flickered. Once.
Then again.
She didn't move.
Her eyes dropped to the floorboards. Her reflection caught in the metal leg of the table.
Her own eyes. But they didn't look right.
She rose.
Moved to the mirror in the hallway.
Paused.
She looked into it.
Her reflection stared back.
But it was slow.
Just behind her movements.
Half a second.
Maybe less.
She raised her hand.
The reflection followed. Too late.
Not a glitch.
A warning.
She stepped back. Slid to the floor. Clutched her arms.
It wasn't just the voice memos.
It wasn't just the rooftop footage.
It was her.
She felt her.
Evelyne.
Like static in her bones. Like someone breathing through her skin. Like ink running under her fingernails.
She whispered the name aloud.
> "Evelyne Kai."
And the mirror pulsed.
A breath.
A ripple.
A reply.
---
The mirror didn't crack.
But her nerves did.
She retreated to the living room. Turned on every light. The buzz of the lamps didn't comfort her—it just gave shape to the shadows.
She opened the second file.
> "I dream in charcoal now. I see outlines of things before they happen. I saw him the night before he knocked on my door. I saw my hand open before I told it to. There's no more thinking. Just echoing. He sketches, I follow. I smile. He stares. I stop being me."
Lila pressed stop.
Her hands shook.
She opened the next folder: Sketches.
There were hundreds.
Eyes. Mouths. Ankles. Wrists. The feminine curve of a neck with a line of red thread drawn along the vein.
Some of the faces looked like Lila.
Too much.
The mouths open like they were still screaming.
Then—another folder hidden inside: Red_Thread
Inside it: a map. Drawn over the floorplans of Blackwell Tower.
Circles.
Crosses.
One marked 'She never left.'
Lila zoomed in.
The location was in the basement level.
A place she hadn't seen.
Below the archives.
Unlisted.
Locked.
She turned back to the audio.
Final entry:
> "He'll tell you you're unlike the others. That you're stronger. Brighter. But it's not you he sees. It's the next version of his obsession. Don't become me."
Lila stared at the screen.
She touched the laptop.
And whispered:
"Too late."
---
She didn't sleep that night.
She sat at the window, watching shadows move over rooftops, streetlights flicker.
She tried to draw.
She couldn't.
Every time she put pen to paper, her hand hesitated. The lines came from someone else's memory. Every curve looked like Evelyne. Every eye watched her back.
At 3:11 AM, her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number
No message.
Just a single image:
A sketch of her, asleep at her window.
She hadn't drawn it
The style matched the others.
And in the corner, in ink:
> E. Kai.
She dropped the phone.
Her fingers trembled.
The sketch had been drawn tonight.
But she hadn't moved.
And no one had been in the room.
She stood, too fast. The room tilted.
She ran to the mirror again.
Looked deep.
The reflection smiled.
She didn't.
---
The lights went out.
Not all at once.
First the kitchen. Then the hallway. Then the bathroom. One by one, in rhythm.
Like a countdown.
Her laptop blinked to black.
The drive ejected itself with a click.
Lila stepped back, hands out, breath catching.
Then—her phone buzzed again.
Another image.
A sketch of her standing just like this.
In the dark.
Arms out.
Alone.
And at her feet, in the sketch—
A second shadow.
Standing behind her.