Ivan fumbled with his keys, his hands shaking so badly that he nearly dropped them twice. When he finally unlocked the door, he slipped inside and leaned against it.
He made his way upstairs.
His room was exactly as he had left it.
The bed was unmade, and his desk was cluttered with schoolwork. But the farther he stepped inside, the stronger the smell became—
the same strange scent he had noticed before.
He collapsed onto his bed.
For a long time, he lay there staring at the ceiling, tracing the cracks in the plaster with his eyes.
They looked like veins.
He couldn't stop thinking about it.
As the sun sank below the horizon, the room slowly darkened.
The shadows stretched longer.
His breathing slowed.
Eventually, exhaustion overtook him, and he drifted to sleep.
The air was cold.
Damp.
It smelled of wet earth.
Ivan's eyes snapped open.
But instead of his bedroom ceiling, he was staring up at the night sky.
He was lying on his back.
The ground beneath him was soft, uneven, and pressed tightly against his skin.
He tried to sit up, but his limbs felt unbearably heavy, as though the earth itself were trying to pull him down.
He wasn't in his bed.
He was lying inside a grave.
Moonlight broke across the edge above him.
A cat sat there.
Its fur was darker than the night itself, seeming to swallow what little light reached the grave.
It perched on the rim, its tail neatly wrapped around its neck, staring down at him with sharp, unnatural yellow eyes.
The cat's mouth split open like tearing flesh, revealing rows of needle-thin teeth and long, curved fangs gleaming in the pale light.
It smiled.
A wide, impossible smile that stretched from ear to ear.
Ivan's lungs froze.
He tried to scream, but his throat filled with dirt.
He bolted upright in bed, gasping until his chest burned.
His room was dark.
The only light came from the streetlamp outside, casting a cold blue glow through his window.
His heart raced wildly.
He sat there for a long time, his hands trembling.
He never turned off the lights.
He couldn't.
He sat hunched on the edge of his bed, watching the door...
watching the window...
watching the shadows.
Every whisper of wind against the glass sounded like fingernails scraping across it.
He didn't drink any water.
He didn't move.
He simply waited.
His eyes burned from exhaustion, red and aching, yet he refused to close them.
Slowly...
the first ray of dawn pierced through the curtains, drawing a sharp golden line across the floor.
Ivan watched it in silence.
A long, trembling breath escaped him—
the first real breath he had taken in hours.
His shoulders finally sagged.
The muscles throughout his body loosened, releasing the tension they had held all night.
He stood, his legs stiff from hours of sitting.
Walking to the window, he pulled the curtains aside and stared into the pale morning light.
Then he headed to the bathroom.
He splashed cold water onto his face.
Again.
Onto his eyes.
His temples.
His neck.
Over and over.
Gripping the edges of the sink, he stared into the mirror.
Dark circles lay beneath his eyes.
His skin was pale.
His hair was tangled with dried sweat.
Then, as he reached for the towel...
his gaze caught something in the corner of the bathroom mirror.
A mark.
At eye level.
He leaned closer, assuming it was nothing more than steam or dried soap.
It wasn't.
A single paw print marked the inside of the glass.
Small.
Delicate.
The size of a cat's paw.
Ivan froze.
His hand, still holding the towel, slowly went limp...
because someone was standing in the reflection behind him.
The woman in the mirror looked nothing like his mother.
Her hair was long, dark, and perfectly straight, hanging around a face so beautiful it almost felt unnaturally flawless.
Her skin carried the pale glow of moonlight.
She didn't move.
She didn't breathe.
She simply stood there inside the reflection, her eyes locked onto his.
Slowly...
she tilted her head.
Her smile deepened.
Yet the unnatural stillness melted from her expression, replaced by something almost radiant.
"Ivan...you've been running for a long time."
She raised a hand toward the mirror.
Her fingertips pressed against the glass from the other side.
Where her skin touched it, gentle ripples spread across the surface like water, distorting the reflection of the bathroom behind her.
"I am Gylou."
Ivan smiled, as though he had been waiting for this very moment.
His voice came out broken, his words tumbling over one another as he told her everything that had happened during the past few days.
His hands trembled violently as he gestured frantically, trying to describe everything he had experienced.
He looked back into the mirror.
His eyes were wide, desperately searching hers for an answer...
or a reason.
"Why is this happening to me?"
"The world isn't what you think it is, Ivan."
Her voice was soft.
Comforting.
"Long ago...
Shells and humans shared the same world."
The ripples across the mirror came to a stop.
"It went far deeper than that.There was union.What you humans call 'mating' once existed between humans and Shells.You are a hybrid...a being who carries the blood of both. But there were those who despised that. One sought to place weak humanity beneath his rule. He saw the Shells as mindless traitors controlled by humans. He tried to destroy that balance. But balance is not something that can be controlled. When he tried to dominate everyone... he shattered the worlds apart. And we were sealed away from him."
She lowered her gaze slightly, sorrow filling her features.
"The Shells became twisted...hungry... trapped inside a world like a barren desert.And humans...lost the ability to see us.They once nourished us willingly with their emotions.In return...we protected them.But everything changed after the catastrophe."
She looked at him with such intensity that his skin prickled.
"You, Ivan...are the bridge between our world and yours.Only those whose blood belongs to both worlds can see us...or speak with us."
Her hands slowly slipped away from the mirror.
For the briefest instant...
her reflection flickered.
Her beautiful face was replaced by the black cat's unnervingly wide grin—then it was gone.
"The seal has grown weak.Now they hunt people like you...to complete their plans."
The ripples across the mirror grew violent.
The glass trembled beneath her touch.
Suddenly...
her expression froze.
"I have to go."
"Wait... what?"
Ivan reached toward the mirror, his fingers trembling.
"You can't leave me like this! What do you mean they're hunting me? What am I supposed to do?"
But she was already fading away.
The edges of her form dissolved into nothing.
The bathroom light flickered violently, casting long, broken shadows across the tiles.
"You'll figure it out."
She looked into his eyes and smiled.
"You always do."
"No! Gylou, wait!"
The mirror rippled violently.
Then...
she was gone.