The knocking was frantic now.
*"Vivian! Open the door, please! I think something is behind me!"*
Starr's voice echoed through the hallway—shaky, desperate, and full of fear.
Inside the apartment, Vivian froze. Her breath caught in her throat as she slowly turned to the Starr sitting beside her on the couch.
No…
If *Starr* was outside, begging to be let in—then…
*Who was this?*
The figure beside her turned to look at her too, eyes wide, almost too wide. The grin forming on her face didn't match the voice calling from outside.
Vivian's blood ran cold.
Trembling, she stepped back. "If Starr is out there… who are *you*?" she whispered.
The thing beside her tilted its head slightly, as if confused. Then, it spoke—softly, calmly.
*"Starr is already here with you, Viv. Who do you think that is outside?"*
The voice outside persisted, more urgent this time.
*"I'm here! I'm the real one! Whatever is with you right now—it's not me! Please, open the door before it gets to me!"*
Vivian's head spun. Two voices. Two versions of the same friend.
Which one was real?
The Starr *inside* stood up slowly and stepped forward. "Vivian, that's not me at the door," she said, voice shaky. "It's *that thing*. The one the priest warned about. Look—"
She pulled her collar aside, revealing the glowing mark on her neck. "I have the mark. Just like you."
Vivian's chest heaved. Her hand hovered near the doorknob as she glanced between the door and the figure in the room.
Then—the voice outside returned. Lower now. More urgent.
*"Vivian… Did she *also* show you the mark? I have one too. That *thing* can mimic anything, even the mark. It's clever. Open the door now. You're in danger!"*
Vivian stumbled back from the door, eyes darting. Her thoughts were loud, but her surroundings were *louder*. The air had shifted. Heavy. Cold. Watching.
The Starr inside stepped closer.
"Vivian, please… don't listen to that voice"
Vivian backed into the corner, knees buckling. Her mind screamed.
Vivian didn't dare breathe.
Vivian dared not move. She remained curled in the corner, staring at *Starr*—if that's who it really was—who stood motionless, eyes dark and fixed on the door.
Neither spoke.
Then, suddenly, the lights flickered.
A sharp creak echoed from the ceiling.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
They both looked up.
A thin line of black liquid seeped through the ceiling boards. It wasn't water. It was thick. Almost like tar. And it pulsed—*in rhythm with their heartbeats*.
Vivian whispered, "What is that?"
Starr didn't answer.
Instead, she walked slowly toward the wall and placed her hand on it. It was faint, but Vivian saw it—the *mark on Starr's neck was gone*.
"Where's your mark?" Vivian asked, frozen.
Starr turned around slowly.
Her face was smiling.
But her eyes were weeping blood.
Vivian's scream tore through the silence—
Outside the apartment, just along the hallway...
*The real Starr* was banging outside the door.
And something was watching her from the shadows—
*copying her smile.*