The morning they were supposed to leave for Gideon Raithe's cabin, Luke Crimson stood outside Arthur's apartment, staring at the city skyline. The air smelled like wet pavement and tired dreams. He hadn't slept much—not because of the mystery, but because of something older. Something he never talked about.
Arthur emerged with his usual calm silence, coat on, eyes already scanning the street as if the world were a puzzle he could solve by glancing hard enough. Luke shoved his hands into his pockets.
"You ever think we're chasing shadows?" Luke asked.
Arthur glanced sideways. "Sometimes shadows are just people we haven't met yet."
Luke smirked. "Poetic."
But inside, something twisted. Not because of what Arthur said—but because of what Luke couldn't say.
Two Days Earlier
Luke stood outside an old, red-bricked building in the quiet part of town. No cameras. No visitors. Just a plaque that read: St. Elwood Psychiatric Care Unit.
He hadn't been here in over five years.
Inside, the halls smelled of antiseptic and old leather. A nurse led him silently to a room at the end of the corridor.
The woman inside the room didn't look up. Her graying hair was unbrushed, her eyes fixed on a window with no view.
"Hi, Mom," Luke said quietly.
Her gaze flickered, but she didn't smile.
She never did.
Luke sat beside her, pulling out a photo from his wallet—a photo of them, back when things made sense. Before the "voices," before the "echoes," before she started drawing that same circle with a jagged line over and over again in notebooks, on walls, on her skin.
"I think you were right," he whispered. "About everything."
She turned slowly. For a moment, clarity danced in her eyes like sunlight through broken glass.
"Don't follow it," she rasped. "Don't listen to the man in the mirror."
Luke froze. "What mirror?"
But she was already gone again, slipping back behind whatever veil held her captive.
He left without speaking to anyone else, but that night, he sat awake in his apartment, staring into the mirror on his bathroom wall.
And he could've sworn something smiled back.
Present Day
Luke climbed into the passenger seat of Arthur's car. They were heading to the cabin.
"You okay?" Arthur asked, eyes still on the road.
"Peachy," Luke said, grinning. The mask was easy to wear. Too easy.
But behind the grin, something pulsed in the back of his mind.
A symbol.
A voice.
A mirror.
And a secret he hadn't told Arthur.
Yet.