The Vanishing Point

The walls of the facility seemed to breathe.

Jessica forced herself forward, boots whispering against the sterile tiles, but the corridor ahead felt stretched, unreal. Her mind still reeled from the encounter in the observation chamber—the thing in the mirror, the smile that wasn’t hers. The echo of that moment clung to her like static, threading into her muscles, sharpening her pulse.

Leanna was moving fast, scanning each intersection before pushing ahead. Olivia trailed slightly behind, her breath unsteady, her eyes darting to the flickering lights above. No one spoke. Silence had a different weight now.

Jessica touched the side of her head. The hum was back—low, insidious, a resonance beneath her skull. She tried to shake it off, tried to separate past from present, but the air itself seemed thick with memory.

‘A sign marked Sublevel 3 loomed overhead. The hall sloped downward.

"How much deeper does this go?" Olivia muttered.

Leanna didn’t look back. “Too deep.”

Jessica exhaled and stepped past them, taking the lead.

The descent was slow, the stairwell tight. The further they went, the more the temperature dropped, the concrete walls damp with condensation. Somewhere ahead, a faint mechanical sound—ventilation systems still running, buried somewhere in the unseen depths.

Jessica’s grip on her weapon tightened.

The last step brought them into another corridor, this one different from the upper levels. No windows, no signage beyond numbered steel doors, thick with reinforced plating. This place had been meant to keep things inside.

She didn’t want to ask what.

They reached the first door. A small observation window had been built into it, reinforced with mesh wiring.

Jessica stepped forward, peering through, and immediately her stomach began to turn. The room inside was empty, but the walls weren’t blank. They were full of handprints. Not painted, not drawn—imprinted into the concrete, pressed in as though the stone had been soft when they were made. Some were smeared downward, some smaller than others, too many overlapping to count.

Jessica exhaled sharply, forcing herself back.

“This place should be dust by now,” Olivia said, voice hushed. “But it’s not.”

Jessica swallowed. “Because it’s still being used.”

She moved ahead before either of them could answer.

---

The next door had no window. Only a nameplate.

Most of the labels had faded to nothing, but this one remained intact, preserved beneath the grime.

Jessica’s breath stalled in her chest.

LZ-04

Her hand moved before she could stop herself, fingers tracing the indentations in the plate. The cold metal pulsed beneath her skin, sending a shiver up her spine. The hum in her skull sharpened, pressing against the edges of something she couldn’t name. She had been here. No. She had forgotten she had been here.

Behind her, Olivia shifted uneasily. “We don’t have to go in.”

Jessica closed her fingers into a fist. “Yes. We do.”

Leanna said nothing, but the moment Jessica reached for the handle, she covered her with practiced precision. Jessica turned it slowly. The door opened.

—

The room was small. There was a cot against the far wall. A table. A chair. No restraints, no visible signs of force, but the sterility of the space was suffocating. A place meant for observation, for study. Not for living.

Jessica took a step inside.

The air tasted like metal. The cot was neatly made, untouched for years, but she knew—somewhere in the layered depths of her mind, she knew—that she had once lain there.

She turned toward the table. A book sat atop it. The cover was worn, edges curled, but the title was unmistakable.

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.

Jessica’s hands felt numb as she reached for it. The pages were fragile, corners dog-eared. She flipped through them absently, her breath catching when she reached the final chapter. A passage had been underlined in ink.

“It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.”

A sharp static burst behind her eyes. Something inside her stirred—unfamiliar but hers. A memory, or the shape of one, peeled loose from the dark.

The room is smaller, colder. She is sitting at the table, fingers curled around the book.

A man’s voice, calm but expectant. “Do you remember what happens next?”

She looks up. The figure in the doorway is nothing but shadow. She knows him—somehow. Or maybe she only knows the role he plays.

The name lands like a dropped coin, “Jessica,” it echoes.

Her throat is dry. The words don’t come.

The voice remains patient. “Jessica.”

It’s the first time she has heard that name. The first time she has been given it. The name sticks.

The figure steps closer. “We’re almost there.”

He kneels beside her, his hands resting lightly on the book. He turns the pages to the end. Alice leaves Wonderland.

He speaks softly. “Not all reflections are meant to return.”

Jessica gasped as reality slammed back into place. Something had come back with her. Not a memory exactly—more like a fracture sealed over too soon, now split open again. The book slipped from her fingers, hitting the floor with a soft thud. The hum in her skull roared, a dissonant, deafening vibration that sent her staggering backward.

Leanna caught her. "Hey—look at me. Jess."

Her vision blurred. The walls felt too bright, too sharp.

"Jessica."

She blinked hard, pulse thudding against her ribs. The room was still there. The book, the cot, the stale air. But something had been taken from her. Or rather something had just been returned.

Olivia stepped forward cautiously, glancing at the book on the floor. “What did you see?”

Jessica opened her mouth. The answer caught in her throat. Then— A sound. Not the hum in her head. Not her own breath. Something else. Something just outside the door. Jessica’s blood turned to ice. A slow, deliberate footstep. Then another. And another. Not running. Not rushing. Just approaching.

Her hand flew to the grip of her 1911. Leanna and Olivia had already moved, taking position near the door, their movements silent, measured.

Jessica forced herself to breathe. The footsteps stopped. For a moment, nothing.

Then— A whisper, “Jessica.”

Not Leanna. Not Olivia. Something else. Something just outside. A presence she knew. Her heartbeat wasn’t hers anymore—it belonged to the thing on the other side. Every breath in the room waited on that turning metal. The doorknob twisted. Jessica raised her weapon as the door began to open.