Aarav's chest rose and fell like he had been running for hours, though he hadn't moved more than a few steps. The air in the hallway was heavy, pressing down on him, filling his lungs with smoke that wasn't there. The whispers were no longer distant—they screamed in his ears, crashing against his skull until he thought his head would split open.
In front of him stood his own reflection. The same face. The same eyes. Yet… not the same. The eyes were pure black, swallowing everything, reflecting nothing. The smile stretched too far, sharp and mocking, like it had been carved onto the face.
The other Aarav lifted his hand, slow, deliberate. For a second, it looked normal. But the closer it came, the more wrong it became—fingers bending in ways they shouldn't, stretching too long, veins crawling under the skin like worms. The nails weren't nails anymore; they were shards of broken glass, glinting in the faint light.
Aarav stumbled back, pressing against the wall. The moment his back hit, he froze. It wasn't stone. It wasn't solid. The wall pulsed like living flesh, warm, sticky, breathing against him. Faces pressed from the other side—distorted, hollow-eyed, their mouths stretched open in screams that made no sound.
"Stay away!" Aarav's voice cracked, breaking under the weight of fear.
The reflection's smile widened. Its voice was calm, layered with hundreds of echoes. "Why resist? You're only fighting yourself."
The hand touched Aarav's cheek.
Cold. So cold it burned. His skin felt like ice melting from the inside. Aarav gasped, a strangled sound, as visions exploded behind his eyes.
He was in his classroom, sitting at his desk, sunlight pouring in. His friends laughed around him, voices warm and alive. For one moment, he almost felt safe. But then their faces melted, dripping like wax, sliding off bone until they became faceless shadows. Their laughter turned into the same whispers in his head.
Another flash. His mother stood in the kitchen, calling his name, her smile soft. But her voice cracked, broke apart, until it became nothing but static. Her body dissolved into smoke, leaving him alone.
Aarav clutched at his head, shaking it violently. No, no, this isn't real.
But the voices whispered louder: "It is real. It's you. It's always been you."
The reflection's grip tightened on his face. Aarav's skin burned as black veins crawled across his cheek, mirroring the same twisted pattern as the other Aarav's. He clawed at the hand, but his fingers slipped through it like smoke. His nails dug into his own skin instead, drawing blood.
"Look at me," the reflection commanded.
Aarav's eyes snapped open against his will. He stared into those endless voids. For a moment, the Abyss vanished. He saw himself—standing on the rooftop edge of his building, staring down. He saw himself in front of a cracked mirror in his room, screaming, smashing it with his fist until blood ran down his hand. He saw himself curled up in bed, face buried in a pillow, sobbing where no one could hear.
The reflection whispered: "I am not your enemy. I am your truth."
Aarav's knees buckled. His chest felt tight, his mind heavy. For one horrible moment, he believed it. He thought maybe this thing was right—that it wasn't a monster, but just the part of himself he always tried to bury.
The voices pressed harder: "Accept it."
"Become it."
"Stop fighting."
Then something snapped inside him. A spark of rage, fear, survival. His whole body shook as he shoved forward with everything he had. The reflection staggered back, its black eyes widening for the first time in surprise.
"Get out of my head!" Aarav screamed, his voice breaking into a raw, desperate cry.
The Abyss trembled. The hallway cracked like shattered glass, long lines splitting across the walls. The silent faces screamed—not whispers, not illusions, but real, piercing wails that stabbed into his ears. The ground vibrated under his feet.
The reflection tilted its head, the smile slowly returning. "You can push me away… but you can't erase me."
The floor split beneath Aarav's legs. A thin crack widened into a jagged wound, black smoke spilling out like liquid shadow. It rose quickly, wrapping around his ankles, cold as death. He stumbled, kicking at it, but the smoke tightened like chains, pulling him down.
He clawed at the floor, his nails scraping the living surface, but it offered no grip. His legs sank deeper, the smoke climbing his thighs, his waist. Panic clawed at his chest.
The reflection only stood there, watching. Its voice dropped into a whisper, gentle, almost kind: "Fall. Fall, and become me."
Aarav screamed, thrashing, fighting the pull. His arms shook, his throat burned, but the smoke climbed higher. His chest was wrapped, his lungs compressed. Every breath came out ragged, weaker, like the air itself was being stolen from him.
The faces in the walls leaned closer, mouths stretching wide, their screams merging with his. The hallway was collapsing, the veins pulsing violently, as if the Abyss was alive and hungry.
The reflection stepped closer, crouching in front of him as he sank deeper. Its smile was inches away. "You were never meant to escape. You were meant to stay. To be me."
The smoke wrapped around Aarav's neck. His vision blurred, black spots spreading across his eyes. His heartbeat slowed.
With his last strength, Aarav spat out the words through clenched teeth:
"I… am not… you."
The Abyss roared. The hallway shattered, the walls breaking apart like glass exploding in silence. The floor gave way completely. Aarav's scream was ripped from his throat as he fell into the black void below.
The last thing he saw before the darkness swallowed him whole was his reflection standing above—smiling.