10. The shadow that Smiled.

Had something else—something worse—let her go?

A deep, sinking feeling settled in her stomach.

Because she hadn't escaped.

She had been released.

And whatever had let her go…

It definitely wanted something

But what?

She stared at the bloody footprints leading out the door.

Too small to be a man's. Too fresh to be old.

And somehow, she knew—

They belonged to her.

Her breath hitched. No. That's impossible.

She had been strapped to the table. She hadn't moved.

Right?

Her hands shook as she pushed herself up. Her head swam—whatever they had injected her with was still wearing off.

She needed to leave. Now.

The hallway stretched before her, sterile and endless. The air felt thick, charged—like something had been here just moments ago.

Something that had left those prints.... Definitely had a purpose.

Her stomach twisted.

"Move, Claire. MOVE."

She stumbled forward, legs weak, one hand trailing the cold walls for balance. Following those foot prints.

The further she walked, the more wrong the hallway felt.

Doors lined both sides, all slightly ajar.

Inside each room—hospital beds lined in rows

And in each bed—

Bodies.

Women, identical to her.

Their chests still.

Their faces frozen in an expression of terror.

Claire's pulse hammered.

No!!! Nooo!!! Noooo!!!!

She wasn't like them.

She was alive.

But why?

Why was she the only one left?

A sound broke the silence.

A slow, rhythmic beep.

The only heart monitor still active.

Claire's gaze snapped toward the last room at the end of the hall.

The door was wide open.

The beeping was coming from inside.

Her feet moved on their own, her body pulled toward the sound.

This room was different from the others... And with a lot more instruments ....

And when she stepped inside—

Her heart stopped.

The monitor wasn't tracking her.

It was tracking—

Someone else.

A woman... Only one... lay on the hospital bed. Wires snaked from her arms, an IV dripping a clear liquid into her veins.This room was a bit different .... Unlike the other rooms , there were no other beds... Only a single bed ... And a heart monitor which no other room had!

And her face—

It was Claire's.

No.

Not Claire.

Probably....The real Anna Prescott.

Alive.

Breathing.

But unconscious.

Claire stumbled back, her mind reeling. This isn't possible.

She was Anna.

Wasn't she?

Then why was Anna right here?

Her gaze darted to the heart monitor. The beeping was getting faster.

Her body—Anna's body—was waking up.

And then—

A whisper.

"Not yet."

Claire froze.

The voice came from the corner of the room.

Dark. Hollow. Familiar.

And when she turned—

She saw herself.

Standing in the shadows.

Smiling.

Claire's breath caught in her throat.

The figure stood in the corner, half-shrouded in darkness.

Not a reflection.

Something else.

And it was smiling.

Not in relief.

Not in recognition.

But in something wrong.

Something unnatural.

"You finally made it."

The voice crawled through the air—too close, yet the figure's lips hadn't moved. It slithered beneath Claire's skin, cold and familiar, like a memory she had forgotten.

The beeping behind her quickened.

Anna—the real Anna—was stirring.

Claire's heart pounded.

This isn't real.

Her legs tensed, ready to run—

But the smiling Claire moved first.

One step.

Then another.

Her features flickered under the dim light, shifting—like they didn't quite belong to her.

"I've been waiting for you."

Claire backed into the hospital bed, hands gripping the cold metal rail.

Her mind screamed for answers, but nothing made sense.... why was Anna right here and who's this other shadow? Another clone ?!

A pulse of nausea rolled through her stomach.

Something was splitting inside her.

Memories bled together—

Running through the rain.

Hands pulling her into a van.

The sting of a needle.

The cold steel of an operating table.

The whisper of a doctor's voice—

"Let's see how many times she breaks."

No.

No, no, no—

Claire wasn't real.

She was just one of many.

The figure's voice curled around her like smoke.

"Oh, sweetheart."

The smile widened, stretching past the limits of something human.

"Isn't that the whole point?"she whispered

It wasn't the movement itself that terrified her.

It was the familiarity.

The way she moved—the slight tilt of her head, the rhythm of her breathing—it was identical to Claire's.

Like a distorted mirror.

Claire's throat was dry. "Who are you?"

The figure stopped, the ghost of a grin still lingering on her lips.

And then—

She sighed.

Like she had been waiting too long for that question.

"You already know who I am."

Claire shook her head. "No. You're—you can't be—"

The figure's dark eyes gleamed.

"Oh, but I am."

She took another step forward.

"I was the first."

Her voice was smooth, almost soothing—a cruel mockery of comfort.

"The first body. The first trial. The first failure."

Claire's breath hitched.

Patient 001.

The experiment before her.

The one who came first.

"You ," Claire whispered, realization clawing through her. "You're the original?!"

Patient 001 smiled.

"If that helps you sleep at night."

Claire's stomach twisted.

The original was supposed to be dead.

Every version after her—every failure—had been wiped.

Reprogrammed. Restarted.

Then how was she here?

How was she awake?

Claire took a shaky step back.

"How are you still alive?"

Patient 001 hummed.

"Alive?" she echoed, tilting her head. "That's a complicated word, isn't it?"

Her fingers curled, almost thoughtful.

"They tried to erase me. Over and over again."

She took another step forward, slow and deliberate.

"But something always remained."

Her smile stretched just a little wider.

"They called it a glitch."

Claire's skin prickled.

A glitch.

Something that couldn't be deleted.

Something that fought back.

"They buried me," 001 continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "Buried me under you."

She leaned in.

"And now?"

A cold hand lifted, brushing against Claire's cheek.

"I think it's time we trade places."

Claire's body locked.

Not with fear.

With understanding.

The broken version. The one that was never supposed to wake up.... But it did ...and it was defying the whole simulation... She wasn't ready to co-operate. The first experimental clone of Anna Prescott

The one that had been waiting.

And now?

The real Anna Prescott stirred behind her, breath hitching.

The other Claire-Patient 01 stepped closer, voice a whisper of finality—

"You and I?"

She leaned in, her breath ghosting over Claire's ear.

"We were never supposed to meet."

And for the first time—

Claire understood.

She had been released.

Not to escape.

To become something else.

And it had already begun...

{So What Just Happened:

Patient 01 somehow gained control over the facility. she can manipulate the environment—unlock restraints, disrupt power, move unseen. And... she chose Claire. Out of all the patients, she didn't just break free for themselves—she went straight for her.

Something stopped the scientists before they could wipe her. But why? What does Patient 01 want from Claire? }

To be continued....