Chapter Eight: The Reflection
361 Words
Jesse didn’t remember falling asleep.
He woke on the couch, knife still in hand, the house silent except for the soft ticking of the kitchen clock. The crawlspace hatch was locked. Caleb hadn’t come back upstairs. Their mother hadn’t moved.
But something had changed.
The air felt thinner. Like the house had exhaled and hadn’t inhaled again.
Jesse stood, stretched, and walked to the bathroom. His face in the mirror looked older—eyes sunken, jaw tight, skin pale. He turned on the faucet, splashed water on his face, and looked up.
The reflection didn’t follow.
It stayed still.
Jesse froze.
His own face stared back at him, unmoving, mouth slightly open. Then the lips curled into a smile.
Not his smile.
“You’re late,” it whispered.
Jesse stumbled back, heart hammering. The mirror fogged over instantly, as if the breath had come from inside the glass. He wiped it clean. His reflection was normal again. But the whisper lingered.
He stepped into the hallway.
The walls were whispering—soft, layered voices, like dozens of mouths speaking at once. He pressed his ear to the drywall.
“He’s digging.”
“He’s remembering.”
“You’re next.”
Jesse backed away.
The floorboards beneath his feet creaked—then scratched. Not from weight. From movement. Like something was crawling just beneath the surface, tracing his steps.
He ran to Caleb’s room.
Empty.
The bed was stripped. The walls were covered in symbols—some familiar, some new. One was drawn in thick, black strokes across the ceiling: a spiral with teeth.
Jesse turned to leave.
But the door was gone.
Just wall.
Just symbols.
Just whispering.
He stepped back, breath shallow, heart pounding.
Then the closet door creaked open.
Inside, Caleb stood in the dark, eyes wide, mouth twitching.
“I saw Dad,” he said. “He’s in the walls now.”
Jesse didn’t speak.
Caleb stepped forward, holding something wrapped in cloth.
It was a hand.
Small. Pale. Fingernails missing.
Jesse stared.
Caleb smiled.
“It’s building a family.”
Then the lights flickered.
The walls groaned.
And the floor beneath Jesse’s feet began to bleed
- Writer
