The Red Thread
"No," Nori whispered, stepping back, her breath fogging in the cold observatory air. "That's not me in the mirror. It isn't."
But the mirror didn't lie.
Not anymore.
And yet something was wrong—not just with the reflection, not just with her.
With all of it.
Eli stumbled forward, pressing a hand to his face. "Something's… wrong."
At first, no one noticed the red trailing from his nose.
It was slow, thin. Like a thread.
Max turned to him. "Eli, you okay?"
Eli opened his mouth to answer, but his lips were already red.
The blood dripped down his chin.
And then—
His eyes rolled back.
---
Sky caught him before he fell, lowering him gently to the floor. Jess rushed forward, kneeling beside them, fumbling in her bag for tissues, anything.
But it wasn't a normal nosebleed.
The blood ran in a perfect line.
Not pooling. Not gushing.
Threading.
A single strand, impossibly thin, curling away from Eli's nose—floating upward, defying gravity.
Like it was being pulled.
"What the hell…" Jess whispered.
The thread of blood twisted toward the compact mirror still open in Lumen's hand.
It wanted it.
Eli gasped suddenly, seizing Sky's wrist with both hands.
"They're trying to pull me back."
"Who?" Max demanded.
But Eli wasn't looking at him.
He was looking at Nori.
And she was still standing in the same spot, frozen, her arms slack at her sides. Her face was pale, damp with sweat.
But her eyes—
Her eyes were not hers.
---
Not anymore.
---
Lumen took a cautious step back. "That's not her."
Jess trembled. "It is her. But something's inside."
"I'm me," Nori whispered, but her voice shook. "I'm—I'm here."
Sky stepped forward, holding the locket out in front of him like a shield. "Then prove it."
Nori stared at it.
And for a second—just a second—her expression flickered.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Like the boy in the chair was seeing an old friend.
"No," she said suddenly, voice deeper, rougher. "I've come too far."
The lights in the observatory burst overhead.
The temperature dropped instantly, breath freezing midair.
Eli convulsed.
Blood poured from both nostrils now—two crimson threads rising toward the mirror like puppet strings.
---
"Drop the mirror!" Jess screamed.
Lumen didn't hesitate. He threw it across the room—it hit the wall, cracked, and landed face-down.
The blood stopped midair.
Hung there.
Then fell.
Eli gasped, air rushing back into his lungs.
But Nori—
Nori dropped to her knees.
Her voice returned to normal. "I—I'm sorry—I didn't feel him—I didn't know—"
Max turned to the others. "He's still inside one of us."
Sky clenched the locket tighter. "No. It's worse than that."
They all looked at him.
"He's not hiding in someone anymore. He's spreading."
Outside, unseen through the shattered observatory dome, a web of faint red threads began to stretch across the sky, threading from rooftop to treetop, vein-like and invisible to any ordinary eye.
But not to his.
Not to the boy in the chair.