The hallway seemed endless.
Each step I took made the floor tilt ever so slightly, adjusting beneath me as if it were alive. The walls rippled, not violently, but subtly, bending around angles that shouldn't exist. Shadows stretched along the walls—my shadows, yes, but also others.
They didn't match me.
I froze. My shadow on the left was long and thin, as it should have been. But the one on the right? It moved independently, twitching and curling in ways my body did not. I lifted my hand. My left shadow moved in response. The right shadow… bowed.
A chill ran down my spine.
I realized, with sudden clarity, that the building was testing me. Not the floor, not the walls, not the doors—they were just parts of it. The real anomaly, the living, aware element, was the shadows themselves.
I tried to step forward. One shadow followed my movement. The other did not. It lingered behind, folding and stretching, stretching and folding, as if waiting for something.
A whisper echoed again:
"Follow, or stay."
I glanced down the hallway. The far end remained shrouded in darkness. The key in my pocket pulsed gently, as if urging me forward. But the shadow… it didn't move. It watched. Curious, patient, silent.
I took a tentative step. The independent shadow mirrored me for a heartbeat, then spun, dancing along the walls, weaving between light and dark. My pulse raced. Fear tangled with excitement.
I had seen anomalies before, objects bending and stretching, rooms alive, doors appearing from nowhere. But this… this was something else. A being of shadow, responding, testing, alive.
I wanted to run. I wanted to turn back to the ordinary hallways. But curiosity was a stronger chain than fear. Step by step, I moved forward.
The hallway stretched further than before. Doors appeared along the walls, some flickering in and out of reality, as if unsure they should exist. The shadows followed, not in a straight line, but weaving, interacting with the spaces themselves.
Then, one shadow detached entirely. It floated above the floor, twisting, turning, and then stopped—directly in front of a door I had not noticed before. Its darkness pooled into a small circle on the floor, shimmering faintly.
The key pulsed in my pocket. A faint glow escaped the metal, reflecting in the shadows. I swallowed. My hand reached for the door knob.
The shadow moved. Not in front of me, but through me, brushing my arm as if testing my reaction. My skin tingled. Goosebumps rose. It wasn't dangerous, not yet—but it was aware. It knew I existed.
I turned the knob. The door creaked open, revealing a small room unlike anything I had seen. The walls were mirrors, but not ordinary mirrors. Each reflection twisted subtly, showing versions of myself I didn't recognize. My hair was longer, shorter, some distorted. My eyes flickered with light. And yet… I was me.
The shadow followed inside, pooling along the floor. It moved as if inspecting the reflections, then lifted toward the ceiling, weaving among the mirrored walls.
I realized the room was teaching me something. Not through words, not through signs, but through experience. The shadows, the reflections—they were instructions in their own language, a language I could only begin to understand by observing.
A faint hum filled the room. The mirrors vibrated slightly, resonating with the pulse of the key. The air smelled faintly of smoke and something sweeter I could not name. Time itself seemed to slow, compress, then stretch.
I stepped closer to one of the mirrors. My reflection twisted slightly, then smiled—a smile I did not make. My shadow on the floor followed suit, bending and curling into shapes I had never seen before.
I jumped back. The room seemed to ripple in acknowledgment. The key glowed brighter, warm in my palm. The shadow lifted, moving toward a door that had appeared within the mirrored walls.
It paused. Looked at me. Waited.
And I understood: it was leading me.
I didn't know what lay beyond the door, but I had crossed thresholds before. I had entered rooms that shouldn't exist, halls that stretched impossibly, and yet here I was, still curious, still observing, still alive.
I took a deep breath and followed the shadow.