I felt someone gently shaking my shoulder, massaging it a bit and then getting a bit more insistent. I could smell an intoxicating fragrance of soapy roses that burned my nostrils a bit by its sharpness. Someone was speaking to me, quietly at first and then impatience creeping into a woman’s voice. My eyelids fluttered a bit, and I winced in the bright light coming from
overhead. I could see the outline of the woman speaking to me, and then focussed in on the strands of platinum blonde hair bouncing around her face. I looked past her and saw the skylight set into the ceiling of the room, now glowing bright yellow-white. I could feel the bed under me, feeling the sheets with my fingers, and little-by-little I became aware of the small
room I was let into, the bunk bed I was resting on, the wall-mounted brushed metal toilet and sink, and the inset door with no inside handle.

“Sweet Cheeks! Hey! Wakey-wakey!” Justine said good-naturedly and even started lightly slapping my cheeks. I felt her soft hands against them and gave my head a light shake, fully opening my eyes and turning my head to get a full view of the room. “There you are! You gave us a bit of a scare—we came in to check up on you and you were staring into space like nothing was going on between those cute little ears of yours!”

“Yeah, what happened there, buddy,” I heard Daniel say, coming from behind Justine, who was now standing up and moving out of the way. “Justine explained that you may have found a way to combat the lytic parasites Valdoria uses to control its operatives. I knew you had it in you.”

I wanted to say something to Daniel, but my mouth and throat were so dry, all I could do was make a dry cough. I gestured toward the sink for water, but Justine waved it off. “Not now, Sweet Cheeks. We need to get you up and mobile first.”

I was still dressed in my buttoned-down shirt and blue jeans, a little rumpled but otherwise clean. Daniel helped me sit up on the bed and Justine guided my head to prevent bumping it on the upper bunk. I could see the PPE was still rumpled in a pile in the corner, untouched from when I had last touched them. I blinked for a bit, moistening my eyes, which must have been open and unblinking for a while. I looked at the door and saw it was ajar, but whatever was on the other side was in darkness. I stood up, leaning on Daniel and taking Justine’s hand, finding my balance again and coughing a bit as I swallowed hard and breathed heavily. It felt like all systems were starting up, and I was about ready to return to the land of the living, so to speak.

Standing up, I scanned the entire room and noticed it was only the three of us. But I couldn’t shake the feeling there was a fourth person now in the room.

The first thing I noticed was the metallic taste in my mouth, sharp and persistent. I blinked again, expecting the feeling to fade, but it lingered. My eyes drifted to the wall-mounted sink. The metal surface seemed to shimmer with patterns that shouldn’t be there—geometric forms that pulsed gently, like a heartbeat made visible. I blinked, expecting them to disappear, but they remained, subtle yet unmistakable.

“Water,” I croaked, and Justine guided me toward the sink.

When I leaned over the basin, the reflection looking back at me seemed… aware. Not just my own awareness, but something else observing through the same eyes. The geometric patterns in the metal surface grew more defined, and for a moment, I glimpsed what looked like crystalline walls beyond my reflection.

Someone is watching me watch myself.

The thought startled me. I straightened quickly, water dripping from my chin.

“You okay?” Daniel asked, noting my sudden movement.

I nodded, but my eyes drifted back to the sink’s surface. The patterns were still there, waiting. And that presence I had sensed when I first woke up—it was stronger now, more focused. Not threatening, but… curious. Like it was learning about me as I was learning about myself.

“The PPE equipment is in the corner if you need it,” Justine said, following my gaze around the room. “But we don’t think you’re contagious anymore.”

I was barely listening. That fourth presence wasn’t just in the room—it was connected to me somehow, watching through surfaces that reflected, communicating through thoughts that felt like memories but weren’t quite mine. The sink called to me again, its metal surface promising answers I didn’t yet understand.

I stepped back from the sink, my hand still wet, my heart beating a little faster than it should have. The patterns in the metal were gone now, replaced by my own reflection, the same as it had always been. But I had seen them. I knew I had seen them.

“You sure you’re all right?” Daniel asked again. His voice was steady, but I could tell he was watching me the way he watched everything—like I was a piece on a board he was still trying to read.

“I’m fine,” I said, though the words felt hollow. “Just disoriented.”

Justine clapped her hands together, her smile bright and sharp. “Well, disoriented is better than dead, Sweet Cheeks. And we’ve got work to do.” She gestured toward the door, which was still ajar, the hallway beyond it dark and silent. “Dr. Vasquez is waiting. She’s been anxious to see you—something about your work on the spore blocker. She said you were close to a breakthrough.”

I nodded, but my mind was elsewhere. The presence I had felt when I first woke—it hadn’t left. It was still there, hovering at the edge of my awareness, like a word on the tip of my tongue that refused to be spoken.

I looked at the sink again. The metal surface was still. No shimmering. No patterns. Just cold, polished steel. But I knew—I knew—that something had been there. Something had looked back at me through that reflection. And it wasn’t Justine. It wasn’t Daniel. It wasn’t anyone I had ever met.

I turned to face them both. “Before we go, I need to ask you something.”

Justine raised an eyebrow. “Oh? This should be good.”

“When I was asleep—when I was catatonic—did either of you see anything strange? In the room? In the skylight?”

Daniel and Justine exchanged a glance. It was brief, but it told me everything.

“Strange how?” Daniel asked carefully.

“I don’t know. Lights. Patterns. Reflections that didn’t match.” I paused, feeling foolish, but pushing through. “I keep feeling like there’s someone else here. Not you. Not Elena. Someone else.”

Justine’s smile tightened, just slightly. “That’s probably just the aftereffects of the hallucination, Al. You were under a lot of stress.”

“Maybe,” I said. But I didn’t believe it.

I walked toward the door, stopping at the threshold. The hallway was empty. No shadows. No movement. But the presence was stronger here, like it was waiting for me to cross.

I turned back to them. “I need to talk to Elena. Alone.”

Daniel frowned. “Al—”

“Alone,” I repeated. “Just for a few minutes. Then we can get to work.”

Justine studied me for a long moment. Then she shrugged, her theatrical warmth flickering into something more guarded.

“Fine. But don’t wander off. The facility is bigger than you think, and not all the doors lead to friendly places.”

I stepped into the hallway.

The moment I crossed the threshold, the presence sharpened. Not a voice, not a vision—just a knowing. A certainty that I was not alone, and that whatever was with me had been waiting for this moment.

I walked slowly, my footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. The walls were concrete, the same grey as the room I had left. But at the end of the hallway, there was a door—different from the others. It had no handle, no lock, no visible mechanism. Just a smooth, dark surface.

I stopped in front of it, my hand hovering a few inches from the metal.

The presence spoke—not in words, but in a feeling. A question, shaped like a thought: Do you recognize me?

I didn’t. But I felt, with a certainty that had nothing to do with logic, that I should.

I pressed my palm against the door. It didn’t open. But the metal beneath my hand grew warm, and I felt the presence—the observer—lean closer, as if it was trying to see through my eyes.

You’re not ready, the presence seemed to say. Not yet. But you will be.

I pulled my hand back. The door stayed closed.

I turned and continued down the hallway, toward the room where Elena was waiting. The presence didn’t leave. It fell into step beside me, silent but present, like a shadow that had finally found its owner.

I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t know what it wanted. But I knew, with a certainty that settled deep in my chest, that I would see that door again.

And when I did, I would be ready to open it.

*** This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. ***