Chapter 10: The Glass Above

The hatch rattled once. Twice. Then stopped. But silence isn’t mercy. It’s a promise.

The locker room smelled like copper and old chlorine. Bleach ghosts. Tile sweat. My sister clung to me, bones pressing sharp through her skin. Evelyn crouched by the door, pistol steady, every breath timed with the flicker of the overhead light. Max sprawled against the lockers, leg leaking, face ashen but still wearing that rot-smile like it gave him power. The mirror me lingered by the broken sink, studying her reflection in cracked porcelain. Calm. Detached.

The shadow hadn’t left. It was under us. Waiting.

Evelyn’s voice was gravel. “We can’t stay. It’ll come through.”

“Through steel?” Max croaked, coughing blood. “Let it try. I’m done running.”

“You were done the second you limped in here,” I said.

His laugh wheezed. “Still breathing, aren’t I? Can’t say the same for the trail you leave behind.”

I wanted to shut him up, but words were cheaper than bullets and Evelyn’s trigger finger twitched when provoked.

I checked the ceiling. Tiles yellowed, sagging. Pipes overhead, dripping rust. One cracked panel hung loose, light spilling through. Thin. Fragile.

“Up,” I muttered.

Evelyn’s eyes cut to me. Sharp. “What?”

“We go higher.” I jerked my chin at the ceiling. “That thing hunts in water and dark. Up there maybe air. Maybe open space.”

“Or another trap,” Max said, grinning blood.

“Everything’s a trap,” I answered. “Question is which one kills slower.”

Evelyn studied the ceiling. She didn’t like trusting me, but survival doesn’t ask for trust. She nodded once.

We moved. Evelyn stacked lockers, metal groaning under her force. I lifted my sister, her small hands grasping at the cracks above. She pushed a tile, dust raining down. The panel popped loose. Beyond, a shaft stretched upward, narrow, lined with broken ducts.

I shoved her through. Her frightened breath echoed, but she pulled herself steady. Evelyn climbed next, gun slung, movements precise. Max tried to rise and failed. Blood smeared down the locker.

“Go,” he rasped.

I stared at him. He grinned, teeth pink. “Not gonna make it. Shadow’ll take me. Maybe it wants me more than you.”

“No,” I said. “It wants all of us.”

I yanked him up by his collar, ignoring the curses, the blood soaking my sleeves. He was weight, pure weight. But leaving him meant giving the shadow a doorway, and I wasn’t handing it a sacrifice. Not yet.

The mirror me floated up without touching the lockers, her body bending through the shaft like smoke. She was already above. Always above.

I shoved Max upward. Evelyn grabbed his arm, hauled him in. Then I climbed last, the shaft tight around my shoulders, cutting skin. The air smelled like old paper and ozone.

Below, the hatch screamed. Metal bent. The shadow surged, flooding the locker room. A black tide rising.

I pulled myself higher, the shaft trembling. The broken ducts scraped skin, tore fabric. My sister’s foot slipped, and I caught her, shoving her back upward. Evelyn grabbed her next. Max dragged himself slow, hissing with each pull.

The shadow hit the bottom of the shaft. Darkness bled upward, reaching. Fingers without form.

We climbed faster. My arms burned, lungs on fire. Evelyn barked, “Move, move, move!” Her voice shook for once. Fear leaking through the cracks.

The shaft ended at a grate. Light above. Real light. Not the sterile hum of bulbs pale daylight, fractured, weak but alive.

My sister pressed against it, pushing. The grate groaned but held. Evelyn slammed her shoulder into it. Metal screamed. Max coughed blood onto the wall. The shadow’s hand brushed my boot, cold slicing deep, marrow-freezing.

I roared, shoving upward with everything left. The grate snapped loose, clattering across stone. My sister scrambled through, Evelyn right after, pistol raised. I shoved Max through, blood smearing my palms. Then I hauled myself last, rolling onto cracked tile.

We were in another hall. But this one was wide, high. Glass walls stretched on both sides, tanks shattered. Broken glass littered the ground like frozen teeth. The stink of salt and rot flooded the air. Above skylights. Real daylight, fractured through dirty glass.

I almost laughed. Daylight. Not freedom. Just another cage lit from above.

Evelyn aimed at the stairwell hatch, waiting for the shadow. My sister clung to me, whispering my name over and over, a mantra, a plea. Max coughed, collapsed against the wall. The mirror me stood in the center of the hall, light cutting through her like smoke through glass. She raised her head. Her lips parted.

“Not all of you leave,” she said.

The first words. My own voice, hollow, stripped of warmth.

Evelyn spun her gun toward her. “What the hell”

The skylight above cracked. A hairline fracture spread. Then another. The weight of water pressed down, groaning the glass.

My stomach sank. “It’s not done.”

The shadow slammed into the shaft below. The floor shook, glass rattling. Cracks webbed the skylight. Water dripped. Then poured.

“Run!” I shouted.

We sprinted, boots shattering glass across tile. My sister stumbled; I dragged her. Evelyn fired at the skylight, maybe to break it, maybe to warn it. Max stumbled, fell, screaming. Evelyn yanked him up without slowing. The mirror me didn’t run she glided, always ahead, face turned back toward me.

The skylight shattered.

An ocean fell.

Water crushed the hall, hammering glass walls into storms of shards. Fish corpses spilled, tumbling, jaws wide. The roar drowned thought, drowned fear. My sister screamed in my ear. Evelyn cursed through clenched teeth. Max went under once, twice. I hauled him up. Blood mixed with flood.

The shadow burst from the stairwell, filling the hall. A tide of black swallowing everything. Its scream tore through bone.

Evelyn fired, bullets snapping into nothing. Useless. My sister clung to my neck, choking. Max gasped, eyes rolling back. The mirror me moved through the water like it wasn’t there, her hand stretching toward me.

“Choose,” she whispered.

I kicked against the flood, lungs burning. No choice left. No mercy. Just survival.

Daylight gleamed faint above, fractured through broken skylights. The surface shimmered hope painted thin.

I dragged my sister tighter, shoved Max upward, screamed at Evelyn. “Go!”

The shadow surged. My fingers clawed water, reaching for that shimmer. My chest tore with the weight. Evelyn’s hand grabbed my arm, yanking me upward. My sister’s breath rattled against my skin.

The mirror me drifted below, smiling, as the shadow swallowed her whole.

And still, somehow, I climbed.

Not done.