They ran.
Boots slapped against the cold concrete. Flashlights swung wildly. Shadows danced across the walls of the school's underground basement like ghosts behind a veil.
Every breath felt like a fight.
Noah's lungs burned, his legs ached, but none of that mattered.
The screams still echoed in his ears. Leah's voice. Her final words. The way her arm was yanked into that mirror as if she were made of paper.
His mind was desperate for a plan.
And then his mother's face flashed in his head. Ruth. Her laughter, the warmth of her hugs. How could he even begin to tell her—
"Leah's gone."
His feet stumbled for a moment, but he kept moving.
His thoughts spiraled again—until another voice cut through the fog.
His dad's. Calm, firm, imbued with the weight of wisdom:
"There's no problem without a solution. If you can't find it, you're searching from the wrong place. Change your point of view. Then search again."
Change your point of view...
And suddenly—it clicked.
The journal.
If the writer had known about the entity...
Then maybe, just maybe—they also knew how to stop it.
Noah skidded to a halt, his eyes wide.
Jamie nearly crashed into him. "Dude, what the hell?!"
Noah clutched the book tightly. "They can be brought back."
The hallway fell silent.
Jamie blinked. "What?"
Noah turned around, breathing hard. "We can bring them back. I think I know how."
Hope broke through Jamie's grief like sunlight through thunderclouds. "How?! Tell me—"
"We break the mirror."
Ezra's voice cut through. "Wait—what? You want to go back there?! And break that thing?!"
Noah shook his head. "Not that one."
Jamie pointed behind them, where the deformed silver beast crawled across the floor, twisting with their loved ones' faces.
"Bro. Fight that thing?!"
Noah's eyes didn't leave the stairs. "No. We go upstairs."
There was silence.
Quinn hesitated, glancing toward the exit. Her hand lingered on the doorknob, but something tugged at her attention.
She turned her head slowly.
A chill ran down her spine.
"…Noah," she whispered.
"What are you doing?! Hurry!"
She didn't move. She just pointed toward the glass panel on the school's front door.
He turned to look—
—and froze.
It wasn't outside.
Not exactly.
It was the reflection.
Something stood there. A silhouette in the glass. Distant yet near at the same time. Twisted arms, a slanted head, wide eyes that didn't blink.
Noah's heart dropped into his stomach.
"We have to go," Quinn said, her voice trembling. "Now."
Without waiting, he grabbed her hand and ran.
Jamie and Ezra were already pounding up the stairwell. The building creaked. A shriek echoed behind them, the monster gaining ground, dragging itself with a hundred fingers.
The stairwell shook as they climbed.
Noah tightened his grip on the journal. His only hope. His only clue.
They weren't done yet.
And neither was the nightmare.They ran.
Boots slapped against the cold concrete. Flashlights swung wildly. Shadows danced across the walls of the school's underground basement like ghosts behind a veil.
Every breath felt like a fight.
Noah's lungs burned, his legs ached, but none of that mattered.
The screams still echoed in his ears. Leah's voice. Her final words. The way her arm was yanked into that mirror as if she were made of paper.
His mind was desperate for a plan.
And then his mother's face flashed in his head. Ruth. Her laughter, the warmth of her hugs. How could he even begin to tell her—
"Leah's gone."
His feet stumbled for a moment, but he kept moving.
His thoughts spiraled again—until another voice cut through the fog.
His dad's. Calm, firm, imbued with the weight of wisdom:
"There's no problem without a solution. If you can't find it, you're searching from the wrong place. Change your point of view. Then search again."
Change your point of view...
And suddenly—it clicked.
The journal.
If the writer had known about the entity...
Then maybe, just maybe—they also knew how to stop it.
Noah skidded to a halt, his eyes wide.
Jamie nearly crashed into him. "Dude, what the hell?!"
Noah clutched the book tightly. "They can be brought back."
The hallway fell silent.
Jamie blinked. "What?"
Noah turned around, breathing hard. "We can bring them back. I think I know how."
Hope broke through Jamie's grief like sunlight through thunderclouds. "How?! Tell me—"
"We break the mirror."
Ezra's voice cut through. "Wait—what? You want to go back there?! And break that thing?!"
Noah shook his head. "Not that one."
Jamie pointed behind them, where the deformed silver beast crawled across the floor, twisting with their loved ones' faces.
"Bro. Fight that thing?!"
Noah's eyes didn't leave the stairs. "No. We go upstairs."
There was silence.
Quinn hesitated, glancing toward the exit. Her hand lingered on the doorknob, but something tugged at her attention.
She turned her head slowly.
A chill ran down her spine.
"…Noah," she whispered.
"What are you doing?! Hurry!"
She didn't move. She just pointed toward the glass panel on the school's front door.
He turned to look—
—and froze.
It wasn't outside.
Not exactly.
It was the reflection.
Something stood there. A silhouette in the glass. Distant yet near at the same time. Twisted arms, a slanted head, wide eyes that didn't blink.
Noah's heart dropped into his stomach.
"We have to go," Quinn said, her voice trembling. "Now."
Without waiting, he grabbed her hand and ran.
Jamie and Ezra were already pounding up the stairwell. The building creaked. A shriek echoed behind them, the monster gaining ground, dragging itself with a hundred fingers.
The stairwell shook as they climbed.
Noah tightened his grip on the journal. His only hope. His only clue.
They weren't done yet.
And neither was the nightmare.