Burning Beneath

It was more than a sound—more than a presence.

It was awareness.

Something ancient and patient was stirring, as if it had been waiting for Sam to arrive, waiting for her to break the mirror and let it bleed.

The ground trembled beneath her bare feet, a slow, pulsing rhythm that matched the glow of the shattered mirror. Each pulse felt like a distant heartbeat, not hers, not human.

And then she heard it.

A slow, deliberate breath.

Not near. Not far.

Everywhere.

The shadows that once drifted like smoke began to thicken, pulling themselves into form. Long, skeletal shapes with limbs that stretched unnaturally, faces that were only fragments—mouths without eyes, eyes without faces.

But they didn’t move toward her.

They bowed.

To something behind her.

Sam turned slowly.

From the cracked mirror, the red glow stretched upward, twisting and unraveling into a towering figure. It wasn’t made of flesh but of fragments—broken thoughts, shattered memories, stitched together by something darker.

It had no face.

Instead, it wore a mask.

Her own.

The mask stared at her, flawless and cold, reflecting no light.

“You left me here.”

The voice didn’t echo this time. It vibrated through her bones.

Sam’s knees threatened to buckle, but she stood frozen, staring up at the thing that now loomed over her.

“You hid me away. You buried me. But now…”

The mask tilted.

“Now you’re just like me.”

The figure stepped forward, and with every slow movement, the ground split beneath it, fractures glowing brighter.

It wasn’t a monster.

It was her—everything she had buried to stay in control. Every fear, every suppressed desire, every thought too dark or dangerous to face.

And now it was awake.

And it was free.

The mask cracked slightly as if it might smile.

“Run, if you still know how.”

And the ground collapsed.