The tape clicked into place with a heavy finality.
Zara and Cain crouched beside the old portable cassette player they'd borrowed from the theatre department, the only working one on campus. The room was quiet, tense. Zara's thumb hovered over the play button.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
"No," Cain said. "But do it anyway."
She pressed play.
At first, there was static.
Then—
A voice.
Soft. Familiar. Fractured by time.
"Zara…"
Zara's breath caught.
It was her voice. But older. Rougher. Like it had aged thirty years.
"Zara, if you're hearing this, then the mirror didn't take you yet. Good. Listen to me carefully. You don't have much time."
Cain leaned in closer, his knuckles white.
"Your name used to be Elara Quinn. The Watcher chose you. It marked you from the moment you were born. They think it's a curse, but it's not. It's a doorway. A bargain. And you've already started walking through it."
Static.
Zara stared at the player, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. "That can't be me. That's not possible."
The voice returned.
"There's a second ritual—one that was hidden. The Severing. If you perform it, you can break the Watcher's tether. But it comes with a price. The first time, I refused. The second time, I paid. Don't let it take you too."
Click.
The tape ended.
Zara stared at Cain. "How can this exist? I never recorded that."
He swallowed. "Unless you haven't yet."
"What?"
He hesitated. "What if time is folding in on itself? What if everything that happened to Elara is looping through you?"
Zara stood and backed away. "This is insane."
"I know." Cain stood too. "But you heard your own voice. You knew what you were going to say before the tape said it."
"I'm not her."
"You might be."
Zara turned sharply and stared at the mirror.
It didn't reflect her.
The following day, Zara and Cain tried to act normal in class, but strange things began happening in the dorm.
Celia—one of the girls in Room 310—was telling a story in the dining hall when she stopped midsentence. She blinked, looked around, and then asked, "Where am I?"
Cain pulled Zara aside after. "You saw that, right?"
"She glitched," Zara whispered. "Like she was… overwritten."
Cain nodded. "It's spreading."
Zara didn't sleep that night. She sat up, staring at the notebook she found tucked under her mattress. It had her handwriting in it. Familiar loops, jagged t's, even the tiny star she always drew above her i's.
But every page was dated 1971.
Cain came in around midnight.
"You're not going to believe this," he said.
"Try me."
He handed her a polaroid. It was a photo of Dorm 304, taken from outside.
In the window—her window—stood a girl.
Zara.
Wearing clothes she didn't own.
They returned to Professor Veldon the next morning, demanding answers.
"I thought we'd seen the worst of it," he muttered. "But if it's reaching out again… then the mirror is opening."
Zara slammed the notebook on the table. "Did you give me this?"
He looked stunned. "That belonged to Elara. We lost it after the fire."
"Then how do I have it?"
Veldon looked at her with dread. "Because you're walking her path. Step for step."
Cain leaned forward. "What's the Severing? Tell us everything."
Veldon sighed. "It's a reversal rite. It can sever you from the Watcher. But to work, it needs a tether stronger than the bond. A human sacrifice."
Zara paled. "What kind of sacrifice?"
"Someone who loves you. Someone who remembers you. Their life in exchange for your freedom."
She shook her head. "No. There has to be another way."
Veldon whispered, "There isn't."
Back in the dorm, Cain sat on the edge of her bed while Zara stared into the mirror.
"I'm scared," she whispered.
"I know." He took her hand.
"Why me?"
Cain didn't answer right away. "Because you were born from a bloodline that keeps returning to this place. Elara. Lena. You. The Watcher feeds on memory. On repetition. You're part of a loop that never ends."
Zara leaned against his shoulder. "Then break it with me."
He kissed her temple. "I will."
The final page of the notebook read:
If you want to be free, don't run from the mirror. Enter it.
That night, Zara approached it alone. Cain waited nearby, holding the candle.
"Now?" he asked.
She nodded. "Now."
She touched the glass.
It rippled.
A shadow reached out from inside.
And whispered her name.
Elara.