She ran.
Barefoot. Breathless. Blinded by fear more than logic.
The streetlights buzzed like broken teeth. Her steps echoed down the alleys she once thought she knew. But the city felt off. Tilted. Too quiet for 8 p.m., too clean for its usual chaos. Even the shadows looked curated — staged.
Her breath clawed at her chest. Her heart threatened to burst.
She didn't look behind her. Couldn't.
If she looked, she knew she'd see her.
That girl.
That doll-faced shadow.
Lelo.
She darted into a convenience store and ducked behind the shelves of canned beans. A cashier asked if she needed help, but she shook her head too fast. Grabbed a bottle of water. Slammed some coins on the counter and staggered outside again.
She tried calling Idris.
Still no answer.
She called her boss.
No response.
Her parents.
Voicemail.
Was everyone asleep? Or were the lines just… dead?
She stumbled toward the train station. Just needed to get out. Anywhere. A different city. A different night.
Then the tram pulled up — silent. Empty.
Too empty.
Still, she climbed aboard.
Doors hissed shut.
It moved.
She exhaled.
That was her mistake.
---
She sat down in the third row. Her eyes burned from crying, from the cold, from the not-knowing.
The tram rocked gently, too smoothly. No bumps. No jerks. Almost like it wasn't moving at all.
She reached for her phone.
No signal.
Her fingers clenched.
She stood, staggered down the aisle to the driver's door.
It was locked.
She knocked.
No answer.
Her heart dropped.
She turned—
—and saw the little girl sitting in the very back seat.
Alone.
Staring straight ahead.
Serene's legs buckled.
She turned and pounded on the tram doors.
"Stop this! Let me out!"
Nothing.
Lelo didn't even blink.
She just swung her feet and whispered,
> "You waited too long."
Then everything went dark.
---
When she woke, her hands were no longer clenched. She was lying in bed.
Warm.
Too warm.
The air smelled like lavender and old memories.
And the walls were hers.
Her bookshelf. Her scent. Her life — recreated.
A replica of peace.
But the door was locked.
The camera blinked.
And someone — somewhere — was watching her breathe.
---