The Shadow — Chapter 10: Gone

[Fear System Log: 4:04 A.M.]

Current Arc: The Shadow

Assigned Role: Mary Caldwell — Protagonist

Status: Objective Complete

Alert: Residual Echo Detected

Final Task: Survive Until Dawn

Time Remaining: 02:56:32

Mary sat still, drenched in sweat and blood, barely able to comprehend what had happened. The mimic was gone. The thing that had copied her every movement, mimicked her voice, twisted her reflection—it had vanished.

And yet…

She rewound the footage again. There it was, unmistakable.

Two of her.

One crouched in the apartment. The other watching from beyond the window. Still. Silent. Smiling.

She paused the frame, zooming in.

The second version of herself had no eyes.

Just empty sockets, black as wet ink.

Her breath hitched.

She hadn't won.

Not completely.

Mary didn't sleep. She couldn't.

Every shadow moved like it had weight.

The Fear System hummed in her mind—quiet but pressing. It projected task completion, but something clung to the edges. A warning. A tremor beneath the relief.

[System Note: The Fear System cannot guarantee full extraction if Residual Echo is left uncontained.]

"Residual echo," she murmured aloud. "What the hell does that mean?"

She paced the apartment, adrenaline gone, nausea replacing it. Her feet felt heavy, like something was holding them back from stepping forward. From leaving.

When she reached the front door, her fingers trembled on the knob.

Locked. Triple-locked.

She twisted the bolts.

Opened the door.

A wall of darkness met her.

Not the night. Not the hallway.

Just… nothing. A curtain of void.

No sound. No light.

She stepped back, heart hammering.

The door slammed shut on its own.

The clock ticked.

4:36 A.M.

The system said she had to survive until dawn.

But in a world where her front door led to nowhere, where her own face peered through glass with hollow eyes—

Where exactly was "dawn"?

She began recording again.

Documenting everything: the blinking lights, the wet footprints appearing without steps, the smell of burnt ozone in the kitchen.

The hallway mirror—previously shattered—was whole again.

And in it, she wasn't alone.

Behind her reflection stood her mimic.

Still smiling.

Mary spun, knife in hand.

Nothing.

She turned back to the mirror—

It winked.

[Fear System Notice: Cognitive Dissonance Increasing. Reality Layer Weakening.]

[Warning: Do NOT acknowledge Echo directly.]

Too late.

The mimic appeared at the foot of her bed that night.

It said nothing.

It didn't need to.

It mimicked grief.

Tilted its head. Bit its lip. Clutched its chest.

Mary saw herself the night her mom died. The night she'd tried to swallow an entire bottle of sleeping pills and pretend it was an accident.

Tears welled in her eyes.

"You're not me."

The mimic smiled again—sadder this time.

And vanished.

5:17 A.M.

She'd made it through most of the night.

The camera kept rolling. Her skin prickled with the sensation of being watched—but the mimic didn't reappear.

She sat on her couch, back to the wall, knife and phone in hand.

She whispered to herself:

"You just have to survive until dawn."

She repeated it like a mantra.

"You just have to—"

A knock interrupted her.

Soft. Rhythmic.

From under the bed.

She didn't want to check.

But she had to.

She crouched slowly, pushed the blanket back…

And found a note.

The same handwriting as before.

"I never left. You just stopped looking."

And beside it—

Her own eye, glassy and bloodshot.

Still twitching.

[Fear System Alert: FINAL TASK ENGAGED]

[Fear Entity Level: TERMINAL]

[Recommendation: Do NOT sleep.]

She ran.

From room to room.

Locked every door. Covered every window.

But the mimic followed, her reflection in every screen, every darkened glass surface.

When she tried to blink—

It blinked faster.

When she cried—

It laughed.

And when she screamed—

It whispered.

"I'm not here to kill you, Mary. I'm here to stay."

5:58 A.M.

Mary stood in the bathroom, knife in one hand, camera in the other.

She turned to face the medicine cabinet mirror.

She spoke aloud:

"I am real. You are not."

The reflection didn't copy her.

It smiled.

Then, in her voice, replied:

"You'll have to prove it."

6:00 A.M.

Mary took the knife and stabbed it into her forearm.

Searing pain raced through her.

The reflection didn't flinch.

Instead, it bled too.

Then laughed.

They both bled, side by side.

They both cried.

Then the mirror shattered—

And the mimic stepped out.

Mary staggered back. The mimic—now fully corporeal—mirrored every wound, but it didn't seem to care. It moved like a puppet without strings, jerky and gleeful.

She lunged with the knife.

It caught her wrist.

Held it firmly.

Then whispered:

"You made me. I'm what you left behind."

The mimic pressed its forehead to hers.

The camera beeped—

Low battery.

"Say goodbye to yourself," the mimic breathed.

The screen flickered.

The mimic raised the knife.

Mary closed her eyes—

Then everything stopped.

Light flooded the room.

The mimic screamed.

And crumbled into ash.

[Fear System Alert: DAWN ACHIEVED]

[Arc Conclusion: COMPLETE]

[Memory Archive Transferred.]

[Host Status: STABLE]

[Extraction in Progress…]

Mary opened her eyes.

She stood in an empty apartment.

No blood.

No mimic.

No camera.

No scars.

Just her.

But as she walked to the mirror, she paused.

For just one second—

Her reflection didn't follow.

[Fear System World Hop Initialized]

[Next Arc: The Cellar]

[Assigned Role: Timmy — Supporting Character]

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