As soon as the sound of slithering footsteps fades, Julia opens her eyes.
The room they're hiding in is small—her mother's old bedroom.
Everything looks different than Julia remembers.
The bed is moved to the window.
Photographs hang on the walls—old, faded, depicting faces Julia doesn't recognize.
One mirror stands in the corner, leaning against the wall as if someone had moved it there in a hurry.
Julia feels a chill fill her lungs.
"Marek..." she says, touching his hand. "She's been here before. Before us."
Marek is pale, but he holds himself firmly.
"We can't stay here. If she comes back—"
"She will," Julia interrupts. "She always comes back."
The symbol on her hand pulses harder, reacting to the presence of something in the room. But it's not the being behind the door.
It's *something* inside.
Julia feels something watching her.
From hiding.
From the shadows.
Her gaze—though she doesn't want to—is drawn to the **mirror**.
"Julia... don't look at it," Marek says, but Julia can no longer control herself.
Something whispers in her head.
*Look. You were waiting for this.*
She takes a step toward the mirror.
Every fiber of her being screams to turn back.
But her mind feels as if it's hooked on something invisible.
Marek grabs her wrist.
"Julia, wake up!"
But Julia can already see.
--
Her reflection—it's not her reflection.
It looks like her.
But she stands straighter.
She smiles, though Julia isn't smiling at all.
The reflection's eyes are darker.
Deeper.
As if there were a space behind them… infinite.
Julia tries to back away, but her legs don't respond.
"Julia!" Marek shakes her, but she doesn't hear him.
The reflection tilts its head.
Slowly.
With unnatural delicacy, as if its bones were made of a different material than human bones.
And suddenly it speaks.
In Julia's voice.
"You came back to give back what doesn't belong to you."
Julia suddenly can't breathe.
Her reflection touches the mirror's surface…
and the glass becomes as soft as water.
The reflection's fingers emerge.
"Marek…" Julia finally whispered. "She… she's leaving!"
Marek reacts immediately.
He grabs the mirror with both hands and throws it to the floor.
With a crash, it shatters into dozens of pieces.
Julia falls to her knees, clutching the floor as if someone had just cut an invisible thread.
Shards of glass scatter across the ceiling, across the walls—as if they had exploded.
In each one, Julia sees, for a split second, not her own face, but the face of this creature.
Distorted.
Angry.
Inhuman.
“Julia, breathe,” Marek kneels beside her, pulling her closer. “It’s okay. It’s over.”
But Julia knows it’s **not true**.
What was in the mirror…
was only a *part*.
Echo.
Reflex.
IT doesn’t need the Mirror.
IT is already within her.
--
For a moment, they sit in silence.
She—trembling, breathing rapidly.
He—trying to maintain a calm that is slowly slipping away from him.
Marek is the first to break the silence. "Julia... what was that?"
Julia wipes her eyes with her hand.
Her voice trembles, but she says clearly:
"It's not her. It's not Natalia."
"Who then?"
Julia looks him straight in the eye.
"This is... *Home*."
"Home?"
"It has its own consciousness. My mother woke it up. I... fed it when I was ten. And now..."
"Julia..."
"...now it wants me back."
They bend down to pick up the shard of glass.
Julia holds it in her hand.
The symbol on her skin pulsates like a heart.
And in the shard—her face is still reflected.
But too close.
Too aware.
She smiles at Julia.
And in a whisper Julia hears directly in her head:
"I'm here..."
The shard in her hand shatters on its own.
--
Julia leans her back against the wall.
"Marek..."
"Yes?"
"Before we go any further... you need to know one thing."
She looks at him more seriously than ever.
"If whatever's in the house takes over me... don't hesitate."
"Julia, don't even say that."
"If you try to save me when it's too late... you'll die."
Marek cups her face in his hands.
"Julia. Listen to me. I didn't come here to lose you. Not tomorrow. Not today. Not ever. If that thing wants to take you, it will have to go through me."
Julia closes her eyes.
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," she whispers.
Because Cliff House *doesn't* like anyone defending it.
And the anger of this place is only just beginning to stir.
--
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