Echoes in the Glass

The facility swallowed them whole. The metal walls stretched endlessly in both directions, their surfaces too smooth, too deliberate, as if time had never touched them. The corridor ahead was dimly lit, the flickering lights casting shadows that shifted unnaturally against the sterile white floor. Jessica felt the weight of the silence pressing in, heavy and absolute, the kind of quiet that made her ears ring.

She moved cautiously, her boots making soft, muffled sounds on the floor. Every step felt measured, deliberate, as though she were treading inside something that was not abandoned but waiting. The faint hum of unseen machinery vibrated beneath her fingertips as she brushed them against the wall. The air had a strange, artificial chill, sterile yet oddly suffocating.

Leanna was at her side, gun drawn but lowered. Her eyes flicked between the doorways lining the corridor, searching for movement. Olivia brought up the rear, fingers tight around the strap of her bag, one hand lingering near her sidearm. No one spoke.

A junction split the corridor ahead, two paths diverging into the unknown. Jessica hesitated, glancing at the signs overhead—one marked Research Wing A, the other Restricted Access. The paint had not faded, no dust had settled. This place was not abandoned. Someone had been here. Recently.

She turned to Olivia. “Anything from the schematics?”

Olivia pulled a crumpled page from her pocket, the stolen blueprint they had deciphered back at the safe house. She scanned the lines, her expression tightening. “If this is accurate, the Restricted Access wing leads to a lower level. That’s where they kept... test subjects and performed live evaluations—neurological, psychological, everything.”

Jessica swallowed hard. Test subjects. That was what they were calling them now.

Leanna nodded toward the hallway. “We go down.”

Jessica exhaled slowly, pushing away the nagging pull of hesitation. They moved forward.

The corridor seemed longer than it should have been. The doors they passed were labeled with strings of numbers, some left ajar, revealing empty labs—clinical spaces stripped of purpose, the ghosts of past experiments lingering in the sterile air. A few rooms still had remnants of equipment, unplugged monitors, and rusted gurneys with straps hanging loose.

Jessica tried not to think about what had once occupied those beds.

They reached the end of the hall. A steel door loomed before them, a biometric scanner mounted to its side, its green light pulsing faintly. Jessica’s gut tightened.

“This shouldn’t be active,” Olivia whispered.

Jessica stepped forward, examining the scanner. The glass panel beneath the sensor was clean—no dust, no wear. Someone had used it. Recently.

Leanna glanced down the hallway. “I don’t like this.”

Jessica reached into her pocket and pulled out the white wooden pawn, rolling it between her fingers. Mr. Black had wanted her to come here. That much was certain. But why? What was she supposed to find?

She exhaled sharply and looked at Olivia. “Can you bypass it?”

Olivia pulled a small tablet from her bag, already plugging in a thin cable to the access panel beneath the scanner. Her fingers worked quickly, feeding new lines of code through the interface, searching for weak spots in the security.

Seconds ticked by. Then—a soft beep. The lock disengaged, and the door slid open.
A stale gust of air met them, carrying the scent of something damp, metallic. It wasn’t blood, but something close. Her stomach gave a slow twist. She didn’t know if it was dread or memory.

The staircase descended into darkness.

—

The lower level was different. The walls were no longer smooth metal but reinforced concrete, thick with age and purpose. The lighting was dim, casting long, skeletal shadows as they moved through the underground space. The air carried a weight,thick with the scent of antiseptic and metal, like memory preserved in cold storage.

Jessica led the way, her fingers brushing against the cold surface of the wall. A low hum reverberated through the space, almost imperceptible, like a pulse beneath the structure itself. It made the hairs on her arms stand on end.

They passed more doors, these different from the ones above. Reinforced. Sealed. The labels on them were vague—Observation Unit 4B, Cognitive Retention Suite, Neuroplasticity Trials. The further they went, the more Jessica felt the itch in her mind, a quiet gnawing of something just out of reach.

She stopped in front of a door left slightly ajar.

Leanna gave her a sharp look. Jessica ignored it and pushed the door open.

Inside was a small, windowless room. A metal chair sat in the center, restraints bolted to the armrests, worn from use. A monitor was mounted on the far wall, its screen cracked, static flickering across its surface. But it wasn’t the chair or the monitor that made Jessica’s breath hitch.

It was the mirror. A one-way observation glass, spanning the length of the wall. And behind it— A shape. A figure in the darkness.

Jessica froze. The shape was faint, obscured by the flickering light, but she knew what she was seeing. Herself.

The figure didn’t move. It stood, perfectly still, the same height, the same posture. It wasn’t just a reflection. It wasn’t a shadow, and it wasn’t a reflection. She knew what a mirror should do. This one felt... wrong. Like it was showing something the room wasn’t ready to reveal.

Jessica’s chest tightened. The light flickered. The shape shifted. A whisper brushed the edge of her hearing—low, distant, barely a sound at all.

Jessica took a step closer. The glass remained cold, empty. The figure was gone.

A sharp breath escaped her lips. Leanna’s hand was suddenly on her shoulder, grounding her.

“What the hell was that?” Leanna’s voice was tight, controlled.

Jessica swallowed hard. “I don’t know.” But the lie sat heavy in her throat.

The hum beneath the floor hadn’t stopped. If anything, it was louder here—like the facility had a heartbeat, and it was getting faster.

Olivia’s voice cut through the tension. “Guys, I found something.”

Jessica turned, forcing herself to step away from the mirror. Olivia stood by a console, dusting off an old file. She flipped it open, revealing a series of medical charts.

Leanna skimmed them quickly, her frown deepening. “This is all brain activity monitoring.”

Jessica glanced over her shoulder, back at the glass. The hairs on her arms remained raised.

Olivia flipped another page. Her breath caught. “Shit.”

Jessica stepped closer, scanning the file. There—printed in ink, clear as day.

Subject ID: LZ-04
Genetic Line: Vellum Prototype
Assigned Identity: Jessica Sanchez

Jessica’s blood ran cold.

Leanna read it again, slower this time. “You were in here.”

Jessica felt the static in her head return, the hum beneath the walls thrumming louder. She looked back at the mirror. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t sure she trusted her own reflection.