The Reflection’s Edge

The road narrowed the deeper they went, the cracked asphalt giving way to dirt, then gravel, then something barely recognizable as a path at all. The mist thickened, curling around the trees like pale fingers, swallowing the landscape inch by inch. The headlights did little to cut through the gloom, illuminating only fragments—jagged branches, the glint of rain-soaked metal, the brief suggestion of movement just beyond reach.

Jessica’s hands remained tight on the wheel, her grip white-knuckled. The Vanguard insignia on the rusted road sign had long disappeared in the rearview mirror, but she could still feel it, like an imprint burned into her vision.

Leanna shifted beside her, eyes flicking to the GPS. “We’re close.”

Jessica didn’t need the confirmation. She could feel it. The air had changed. Not just the temperature, or the weight of the fog pressing in.

Something was watching.

—

The first glimpse of the facility came as a break in the tree line—a dark, sprawling shape half-swallowed by the earth itself. The main structure was barely visible through the mist, but it was there, crouched at the base of a cliffside, its edges softened by overgrowth and time.

It didn’t look abandoned.

Jessica brought the car to a slow stop, killing the engine. Silence rushed in around them.

Olivia leaned forward in the backseat, peering through the windshield. “I was expecting more... security.”

Jessica exhaled. “That’s what bothers me.”

Leanna unzipped her jacket, checking her weapon. “We do this quiet. In and out.”

Jessica nodded, but the unease coiling in her stomach didn’t settle. She pushed open the door. The night swallowed them whole.

—

The ground was soft beneath her boots, the damp earth absorbing sound. They moved carefully, sticking to the cover of the tree line, eyes scanning for movement, for anything that would confirm what they already knew.

This place wasn’t empty.

Jessica crouched near a rusted perimeter fence, the chain-link sagging under years of neglect. A single warning sign remained, its paint faded but its message unmistakable:

AREA RESTRICTED. NO ENTRY.

Beyond the fence, the facility stretched out in layers. A central building—blocky, windowless, its metal surface marred by streaks of rust—stood at the heart of it. Smaller outbuildings flanked its sides, half-hidden in the mist.

Jessica’s pulse quickened. Something about the place felt off. Not just abandoned. Not just forgotten. Wrong.

She scanned the fence for signs of recent entry. Then—there. A section where the chain-link had been cut, edges curled outward.

Someone had already been here.

Jessica motioned to Leanna and Olivia. They moved through.

—

Inside the fence, the silence was different. It was heavier.

Jessica’s skin prickled as they approached the entrance. Her pulse was an uneven beat against her ribs. Every step felt deliberate, calculated, as if the facility itself were waiting for them. The door stood slightly ajar, the darkness behind it deep and absolute.

Jessica hesitated, her fingers ghosting over the handle. Her breath felt too loud in her ears, but she pushed it open anyway and stepped inside followed by Leanna and Olivia.

The air inside was thick. Stale, but not with the scent of rot or decay. No dust, no signs of time creeping in. Instead, it was sterile, untouched. Preserved.

Jessica stepped forward, the soft tread of her boots swallowed instantly. The walls gleamed with a dull metallic sheen, the lighting recessed into the ceiling, flickering faintly.

A corridor stretched ahead, its length lined with reinforced doors, each marked with faded alphanumeric codes. The silence was oppressive, pressing in on all sides.

Leanna moved beside her, scanning the walls. “No security. No cameras.”

Jessica swallowed. “That we can see.”

A single door stood slightly ajar. The gap was impossibly thin, but the darkness beyond it felt endless.

Jessica’s fingers brushed the edge of the doorframe. The air was colder here. The kind of cold that settled in the bones, that carried the weight of something unseen.

She exhaled slowly and nudged the door open. The room beyond was small, clinical. A steel examination chair sat in the center, restraints hanging loosely at its sides. Old medical equipment lined the walls, monitors long dark.

Jessica stepped inside, her heartbeat hammering. The overhead light flickered. She froze as she caught a glimpse of a reflection in the corner of a polished panel. For the briefest second, she saw herself. Not a shadow, not a trick of glass, but herself standing at the end of the corridor. Watching. Waiting.

Jessica’s breath hitched. The reflection wasn’t moving. The light flickered again, and the corridor was empty.

Her chest tightened.

Leanna’s voice was a whisper, razor-thin. “Jess. Did you see that?”

Jessica’s throat felt tight. “Yeah.”

Leanna added, “I swear to God, if we’re being stalked by your evil twin, I’m out.”

She took a step forward. The walls seemed to narrow. The air felt heavier.

Behind her, Olivia let out a slow, measured breath. “What the hell was that? It wasn't a hallucination. The light didn’t glitch until after.”

Jessica didn’t have an answer. She only knew they weren’t alone. And somewhere, the reflection was still watching.