“What should we do?” Cecilia asked, passing through the front wall, lines of worry on her face.
Mike ignored her, stamping his way up the stairs. He walked into the room at the end of the hall, the room with the closet that opened to another world. He could see the scuff marks in the wood from Abella’s careful footsteps. The door of the closet was still open. Reaching into the bag, he grabbed the knife tightly as he rounded the corner and promptly smashed his face against the back of the closet wall.
“Blef!” Mike’s nose gushed blood all over his shirt. He had expected the portal to still be open. Stumbling back out of the room, he ran past Cecilia at the bottom of the stairs and into the kitchen. The maps had all been taken, and there were no instructions left behind for how to open the portal.
“Fuck!” Mike screamed at the table, spraying blood everywhere. Cecilia was where he had left her in the front room, waiting patiently for him. He beckoned her to follow, stepping onto the back patio. Zel and Naia were deep in conversation.
“It’s bad,” Naia said, reading the look on his face.
“Yeah, it is.” Mike approached the fountain, pinching his nostrils shut with one hand. Zel stepped forward and applied a powder to his skin that stung like a face full of bees, but it stopped the bleeding.
“What do we do?” Naia asked.
Zel, who had no idea what was going on, stood quietly to the side.
“If they aren’t back by morning, then something must have happened. They were going down there to fight a fucking Minotaur, and that shouldn’t have taken them all afternoon. What was Sofia thinking?” Mike looked at the bedroom window of the second floor. “What were any of them thinking?”
“They were thinking of protecting you,” Naia told him, summoning a sphere of water to clean his face. “But that’s not what is important. If they aren’t back by morning, what then?”
“Then I go after them,” Mike said, a dark look crossing his face.
“But you don’t know how to open the portal,” Naia told him.
“You’re right, I don’t.” Mike pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing gently up and down. “But I might know someone who does.”
Beth tossed her briefcase on the counter and paused in her kitchen long enough to grab a glass of wine. After stripping out of her clothes, she greedily swallowed the contents of her glass, smiling at the soccer field outside of her apartment. Tonight, a swarm of red and black moved back and forth on the field, the enthusiastic crowd somehow cheering her up. She and Lily had figured out what was missing, and now the next step would be to visit with Mike. She used her phone to send an email, asking when would be a good time to stop by.
After sliding into a pair of panties and a nightgown, she brushed her teeth, hoping to rid her mouth of the taste of wine. The cheap stuff was good but had a bitter aftertaste. Feeling like her luck was improving, she wandered over to her closet and pulled out a black briefcase that had been hidden toward the back.
Her phone dinged. She walked to her nightstand to see that Mike had replied.
Tomorrow would be fine, he wrote. Early morning works best for me.
“Some other time, then,” Beth said, pushing the briefcase with some regret to the back of her closet. She didn’t want to be up late and knew that if she started playing with her toys, it would be at least an hour before she fell asleep after she was done. She closed the closet door and saw movement in the nearby mirror.
It was Sebastien. He sat on the end of her bed, bracing his weight on his cane.
“I’m afraid you’re about to become a victim of circumstance,” he told her.
Beth spun to face him, a scream building in her throat. He stood, placed the tip of his cane in the middle of her chest, and pushed. She fell backward into the mirror, expecting her world to become bathed in broken glass. Instead, the mirror cushioned her impact, the softened surface gripping her like thick glue.
“What is happening?” she asked, her body slowly sinking into the mirror. She fought to break free, but that only sped up the process.
“You’re about to become my ticket into the Radley home,” Sebastien said. His face twisted into a sneer, and he used his cane to push her again. Her stomach flopped, the gravity of the room shifting. Even though she was standing, she felt like she was on her back, and she reached out with her one free hand to grab something, anything. Behind Sebastien, a lump was forming beneath the covers of her bed, an unseen figure slowly sitting up.
“I’m afraid that I can’t have anyone finding your body,” he told her.
“I don’t understand.” The silvery liquid clung to her skin, working its way up over her face. The figure on the bed sat upright, the blankets sliding away to reveal a mass of blank flesh. Its skin rippled like water, and Beth watched in horror as the thing on her bed opened its taffy mouth to take a deep breath. Breasts formed on its chest, and hair grew down to its shoulders. It stood, slender legs forming beneath it. It stuck out one hip, its horrible face settling into a shape that was instantly familiar.
The scream in Beth’s throat froze when she saw that the thing had become her.
“I don’t care to explain it. Through the looking glass with you.” With one final shove, Sebastien pushed her the rest of the way through. The world around her popped, and she was falling down a large, rocky shaft, the mirror above fading into the distance as she tumbled down the rabbit hole. Throwing out her arms, she was able to stabilize herself, and her descent slowed. Somewhere far beneath was a
