John's voice slid through the cracks in the shed wall, low and steady, the same tone he'd used when he pulled me away from the door earlier. If I didn't know better, I would've thrown myself toward it. But Addison's grip tightened on my hand so sharply it snapped me back.
"That's not him," she whispered.
The voice came again—warmer this time. "It's alright. Open the door."
Every word hit with practiced calm, like it was trying to soothe a frightened animal.
Or lure it.
My chest tightened. "How does it do that?" I whispered.
Addison shook her head. "It doesn't mimic voices it hears once. It mimics the ones it wants."
"Wants?"
Her eyes flicked toward the door. "It wants you."
The thing outside dragged its fingers—claws, really—down the length of the wood. The sound made my teeth ache. It wasn't scratching to break in. It was communicating. Testing. Teasing.
Then it spoke again.
"Let me in. You're not safe without me."
The words twisted something in my stomach. Not because they sounded threatening. Because they sounded like the real him—like John would say them.
I glanced at Addison. "Do they… think? The mimics?"
"They don't think like we do," she whispered. "They learn what gets reactions. They learn patterns." She swallowed. "And they like to play."
The mimic knocked gently, like it was tapping a friend's door.
Addison's hand trembled against mine. "It thinks you trust him. Or want to."
I flinched. Something in her voice felt too accurate.
The mimic continued tapping. The sound was soft, rhythmic, patient. It didn't push the door. It didn't slam against the frame. It just waited.
"Why isn't it forcing its way in?" I asked.
"Because this one isn't the hunter," she murmured. "It's a watcher."
"A watcher?"
She nodded. "The hunter marks. The watcher finds. They work together."
"So there are two of them?"
"Always."
My skin went cold.
Outside, the mimic shifted its weight. The leaves under its feet didn't crunch. They didn't move. It was like the creature didn't actually touch the ground.
"Come out," it said again. "You're not alone."
Its voice drifted into a higher pitch, then lower, then something in between—like it was trying to decide which tone would convince me.
John's voice was fading.
Now it was forming something new. Something deeper. Older. My heartbeat stuttered.
Addison squeezed my wrist. "Don't listen."
"What if it's the other one?" I whispered. "What if it's the hunter now?"
She shook her head. "You'll know when that one comes. Everyone knows."
That didn't help.
The mimic stopped speaking. Silence pressed against the shed walls, heavy and expectant. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until my lungs started to burn.
A soft step.
Then another.
The mimic moved to the far side of the shed, circling. Each step was soundless. Its shadow passed between the cracks in the old wood, stretching with the angle of the sun. It was too tall. Too distorted.
Addison tugged me into the corner. "Stay low."
We crouched behind a stack of crates, half-hidden in the gloom. Dust clung to my hair. The shed smelled like old rope and damp metal. My knees ached from crouching, but I didn't dare shift my weight.
The shadow paused by the window.
A face leaned close.
Not a human face.
Something pressed against the thin gap—pale skin, too smooth, like it had been stretched over bone. A dark hole where an eye should've been. The skin twitched as if it was trying to shape itself into something recognizable.
Then it smiled.
A long, wide, crooked smile that cut across more space than a mouth should.
Addison slapped her hand over my mouth to muffle my gasp.
The mimic whispered, "I see you."
Its breath fogged the glassless window frame. It shouldn't have been able to fog anything. Mimics didn't breathe like people did. But this one wanted me to believe it could.
It wanted to seem close.
And real.
Addison leaned close to my ear. "We need to leave. If we stay here, it'll trap us."
"How?" I whispered back.
"It doesn't have to break in. It just has to call the hunter."
I felt the blood drain from my face. "You said they work together."
She nodded. "The watcher finds the prey. The hunter finishes the job."
The mimic moved again, gliding along the wall. Its shadow broke into long, warped shapes. It was searching. Listening.
Addison grabbed my sleeve and pointed to a small gap in the back wall. Barely big enough to crawl through, but it led deeper into the trees.
"Through there," she whispered.
"You want to go closer to the forest?"
"It's the only way. If we run toward town, we'll lead it straight to people. And the watcher doesn't leave the Ridge."
"So we go deeper?"
She nodded. "Into the part it avoids."
"The mimic avoids something?" I whispered.
"Yes."
"That doesn't make me feel better."
"It shouldn't."
She edged toward the gap, staying low to the ground. I followed her, trying to keep quiet. The mimic paused again on the far side of the shed, head tilted like it heard something.
Addison whispered, "Now."
We crawled toward the opening.
My fingers brushed cold earth. Pine needles clung to my jeans. The air grew colder near the wall, and a draft slipped through the gap, carrying the smell of moss and something metallic.
I reached the opening first and pushed my head through.
The forest behind the shed was dense. Dark. The branches overhead were thick enough to block most of the light. The ground dipped into a shallow slope, disappearing into shadow.
Addison nudged me. "Go."
I crawled halfway out—
A deep, thunderous roar tore through the trees.
Addison froze. My breath caught.
"That's the hunter," she whispered, voice cracking. "It heard the watcher."
The roar echoed again, closer, shaking the leaves loose from the branches.
The mimic answered with a shrill, unnatural call—high and sharp—like two metal blades scraping together.
Addison shoved me through the hole. "Go! Run!"
I stumbled into the shadowed slope behind the shed. Addison climbed out after me, panting, just as the mimic's shape flickered past the window again.
She grabbed my hand. "Don't stop. No matter what you hear."
We ran.
The forest swallowed us almost instantly. Branches whipped our faces, roots caught at our shoes, the shadows dipped and shifted like they were alive.
Behind us, the hunter roared again—
Loud enough to shake the ground.
And from the opposite direction…
…the watcher's footsteps started coming fast.
We were caught between them.
Addison's voice cracked as she yelled—
"Don't look back!"
But I did.
A massive black shape barreled through the trees behind us, low to the ground, eyes burning like embers—
The hunter.
And on our left, weaving between the trunks with that broken, gliding gait—
The mimic.
Two shadows closing in.
No escape.
Addison grabbed my arm, panic tearing through her voice.
"This is a trap!"
I stumbled forward—
And the ground vanished beneath my feet.
We fell.
Straight into darkness.