The Hollow Reflection

The first thing Leo noticed when they stepped out of the hospital was the cold.

Not the crisp night air they'd expected, but something deeper—hollow, unnatural, empty. It clung to their skin, not as temperature, but as an absence.

The street stretched before them in absolute silence, devoid of movement. No wind stirred the trees. No distant hum of traffic. Even their own footsteps felt muffled, swallowed by something unseen.

Behind them, Millbrook General stood still. Not looming, not threatening—just… waiting.

Leo exhaled sharply, expecting the night air to ground him. But instead, his breath felt heavy, like the air had weight.

A shiver ran through Jessica. She hugged herself, eyes darting around. "Does it feel... off to anyone else?"

Mike scanned the empty road, his expression dark. "Yeah. Like the world is holding its breath."

Chen had her gun out, her grip steady. "We need distance."

Leo nodded, but with every step, something inside him whispered:

You never really left.

Then, a flicker.

A reflection in the glass doors of the hospital.

He turned instantly, weapon raised—but there was nothing there.

Only his reflection.

No.

Not quite.

The angle was wrong.

The streetlights behind him in real life did not match those in the reflection.

And then—

His reflection moved before he did.

Leo's pulse pounded.

Jessica froze. "Leo—"

The reflection returned to normal.

Leo took a step back, his breath short. He had seen something.

Chen's gaze sharpened. "What did you see?"

He hesitated. The words felt wrong even as he spoke them.

"A delay. A prediction. Like the reflection moved before I did."

Jessica's skin paled.

"That's not a delay," she murmured. "That's a warning."

Mike exhaled a slow, tight breath. "No. No, we're done with the reality-breaking horror for tonight."

Leo barely heard him.

Because there—just for a second—another flicker.

Not of himself.

Of her.

A girl in the glass.

Standing just beyond the threshold.

Watching.

Waiting.

And then—gone.

A deep, crawling unease settled in his chest.

They had escaped Millbrook General.

But something had followed them.

The farther they walked, the less real the town felt.

Everything was where it should be—storefronts, parked cars, neon signs flickering in half-dead hums—but nothing moved. No people. No sounds.

No life.

The sidewalks stretched too long. Streetlights cast shadows that lingered half a second too long before correcting themselves.

Leo's gut twisted.

"This isn't right," Jessica murmured, arms crossed tight against herself.

Chen scanned the road ahead, her voice low. "No traffic. No distant sirens. It's like…"

"Like something wiped everything clean," Mike finished.

Jessica's eyes flickered with golden numbers, her subconscious calculations adjusting. "No," she whispered. "Not wiped. Just… paused."

Mike groaned. "Okay. Someone say the words. Do we need to cover the mirrors?"

Leo turned toward him, voice grim. "No. We need to watch them."

Mike's face fell. "...That's so much worse."

It happened at 3:07 AM.

Leo wasn't asleep. He hadn't even closed his eyes.

The motel room was silent except for the occasional creak of the building settling. The neon light outside bled through the curtains, painting the walls in uneasy red.

And then—

The mirror flickered.

Leo's breath stilled.

A shape.

A figure standing just outside the reflection.

The girl.

She wasn't trapped.

She wasn't trying to escape.

She was simply watching.

Her gaze was deep, unsettling. Not threatening. Not afraid.

Just... knowing.

Leo sat up slowly, heart hammering. His voice came out hoarse. "...Who are you?"

No answer.

He reached out—

And in a blink—

She was gone.

But before she vanished, for just a single moment—

She had tilted her head.

As if she recognized him.

The next morning, Leo didn't mention the girl immediately.

Until Jessica asked, voice tired. "...Did anyone else—"

"I saw her," he said.

Mike swore. "Nope. Nope, not doing this today. I just got used to not being hunted by a reality-breaking nightmare, and now we have ghost girls? Absolutely not."

Chen stayed quiet, watching him. "...What did she do?"

"Nothing," Leo admitted. "She just—stood there. Watching me."

Jessica ran a shaking hand through her hair. "I don't think she's... normal."

Leo exhaled slowly. "She looked like she recognized me."

Silence.

Then Jessica asked the question none of them wanted to say out loud.

"...Do you think she got out with us?"

A cold wave of realization swept through the room.

Because what if she had never been in the hospital at all?

What if she had only existed in the reflections?

And now?

She was here.

They left the motel.

The town was still wrong.

The air felt heavy. The streets were still empty. The silence pressed against them.

And then—

Leo stopped.

His breath caught in his throat.

Mike turned. "What is it—?"

Leo wasn't looking at the road.

He was looking at the glass storefront beside them.

At their reflections.

One was missing.

His own.

His stomach dropped.

Jessica saw it a second later. Her breath hitched.

Chen took a step closer, eyes narrowing. "Leo?"

Leo swallowed, his voice hoarse. "...I don't think I exist here anymore."