The Room Above

Adrian heard the footsteps again at 2:13 a.m.

Three slow steps crossed the ceiling above her bedroom.

Then silence.

She stared upward, holding her breath.

There was no room above her.

The house had only one floor.

For three nights, she’d tried to explain it away. Pipes. Squirrels. Old wood shifting in the cold. But pipes didn’t walk from one side of a ceiling to the other and stop directly over her bed.

The next morning, she told her brother.

“You’re imagining things,” Max said.

Adrian expected him to laugh.

He didn’t.

Instead, he kept staring at the ceiling.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“Max.”

He stood quickly and grabbed his coat. “I have to go.”

That night, Adrian stayed awake.

At 2:13, the footsteps returned.

One.

Two.

Three.

Then something knocked from inside the ceiling.

Three knocks.

Adrian climbed out of bed and dragged a chair beneath the sound. She ran her fingers along the plaster until she felt something strange.

A thin rectangular seam.

She pushed.

A small hatch dropped open, spilling dust across her face.

Behind it was a ladder.

Adrian climbed.

At the top, she found a narrow room hidden beneath the roof. A mattress lay in one corner. Empty water bottles covered the floor.

On the wall were photographs.

Dozens of them.

Every photograph showed Adrian asleep in her bed.

Her phone vibrated.

A message from Max.

Get out of the house. Now.

Behind her, a floorboard creaked.

Adrian turned.

Max stood at the top of the ladder.

He looked at the photographs, then at her.

His face went pale.

“Adrian,” he whispered, “I didn’t send that message.”

Adrian looked down at her phone.

The message was still there.

Get out of the house. Now.

She looked back at Max.

“Then who sent it?”

Max slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The screen was dark.

“Mine died an hour ago.”

Another floorboard creaked.

This time, it came from behind Adrian.

Max’s eyes shifted past her.

“Adrian,” he said quietly. “Come toward me.”

She didn’t move.

“Why?”

“Just come here.”

His voice had changed. It was softer now, almost pleading.

Adrian turned her head.

At first, she saw only darkness beyond the mattress.

Then something moved.

A bare foot slid backward into the shadows.

Adrian screamed.

Max lunged forward, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her toward the hatch. They stumbled down the ladder, nearly falling the last few feet.

“Front door,” Max shouted.

They ran through the hallway.

Adrian reached the door first and twisted the lock.

It wouldn’t open.

“What did you do?” she yelled.

“Nothing!”

She pulled harder.

The door didn’t move.

Behind them, the ceiling hatch swung shut.

They froze.

Three footsteps crossed the ceiling.

One.

Two.

Three.

Then silence.

Max grabbed Adrian’s arm and dragged her toward the kitchen.

“We can get out through the back.”

They rushed through the doorway.

Max stopped so suddenly that Adrian crashed into him.

A man was sitting at the kitchen table.

His back was turned to them.

He wore Max’s coat.

Adrian looked beside her.

Max was still wearing his.

The man at the table slowly raised a phone.

Adrian’s phone vibrated.

Another message appeared.

Don’t trust him.

She stared at Max.

He stared at the man.

“Who are you?” Adrian whispered.

The man at the table began to laugh.

It sounded exactly like Max.

Then the lights went out.

Adrian heard running.

A chair crashed against the floor.

Someone grabbed her.

She fought, kicking and scratching until a voice hissed into her ear.

“It’s me.”

Max.

At least, she thought it was.

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“Prove you’re my brother.”

“Adrian, we don’t have time.”

She shoved him away.

In the darkness, another voice came from across the kitchen.

“Adrian?”

Max’s voice.

Exactly the same.

Her stomach dropped.

“Turn on your flashlight,” one Max said.

“No!” the other shouted. “It wants you to see it.”

Adrian backed against the wall.

Her phone vibrated again.

A third message.

Ask him what happened at the lake.

Adrian swallowed.

“When we were kids,” she said, “at Dad’s lake house. What happened?”

Silence.

Then the Max nearest her answered.

“You fell off the dock. I jumped in after you.”

Adrian’s heart sank.

“That never happened.”

The other Max laughed from somewhere in the darkness.

“Good.”

The first Max grabbed her.

She screamed.

Something slammed into him, tearing him away from her. There was a violent crash, then a sound like fingernails scraping across tile.

Adrian ran.

She didn’t know which direction she was going until her shoulder struck the back door.

This lock turned.

She threw the door open and stumbled outside.

Cold air hit her face.

“Adrian!”

Max’s voice called from inside.

She kept running.

“Adrian, wait!”

She reached the road before she finally looked back.

Someone stood in the doorway.

Max.

He took one step outside.

Then stopped.

Adrian’s phone vibrated.

She almost threw it away.

Instead, she looked.

You left me upstairs.

Adrian stared at the message.

Slowly, she lifted her eyes toward the house.

The figure in the doorway was gone.

A light came on in the hidden room above her bedroom.

Behind the attic window stood Max.

He was pounding against the glass.

Screaming.

Adrian couldn’t hear him from the road.

But she could read his lips.

That isn’t me.

A hand touched Adrian’s shoulder.

Max’s voice whispered behind her.

“You shouldn’t have looked back.”

Adrian didn’t turn around.

Every muscle in her body locked.

The hand on her shoulder was warm.

Human warm.

That frightened her more.

“Max?” she whispered.

The fingers tightened.

From the attic window, the other Max was still pounding on the glass.

His mouth opened in a silent scream.

Then the light behind him went out.

Adrian ran.

The hand slipped from her shoulder as she sprinted down the road, barefoot, her lungs burning. She didn’t look behind her again.

She reached the nearest house and hammered on the door.

No answer.

She tried the next one.

Nothing.

The whole street was dark.

No porch lights. No televisions glowing behind curtains. No cars passing on the road.

Her phone showed 2:13 a.m.

It had shown 2:13 when she climbed into the attic.

Adrian stared at the numbers.

The seconds weren’t moving.

Her phone vibrated.

Adrian

Another vibration.

PLEASE

Then-

IT CAN’T FOLLOW YOU IF YOU DON’T LET IT KNOW WHERE YOU ARE

Adrian looked back toward her house.

A figure stood in the middle of the road.

Max.

Too far away for her to see his face.

“Adrian!”

His voice carried through the darkness.

She covered her mouth.

“Adrian, please! It’s me!”

The figure began walking toward her.

Slowly.

Three steps.

Then it stopped.

Adrian’s blood went cold.

Three steps.

That was what she’d heard every night.

Not footsteps above her bedroom.

Someone practicing.

Learning how Max walked.

“Adrian!”

She slipped between two houses and crouched behind a wooden fence.

Her phone vibrated again.

DON’T ANSWER HIM

She typed with shaking fingers.

Where are you?

The reply came immediately.

Still upstairs.

Adrian typed.l

How do I know you’re Max?

For several seconds, nothing happened.

Then-

You don’t.

Adrian stared at the words.

A branch snapped nearby.

She switched off her screen.

Footsteps approached the fence.

One.

Two.

Three.

Silence.

Adrian pressed both hands over her mouth.

“Adrian?”

Max’s voice was inches away now.

On the other side of the fence.

“I know you’re there.”

She squeezed her eyes shut.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Something scraped against the wood.

“Adrian, listen to me. The thing in the attic isn’t me.”

She stayed silent.

“It knows things about us. It knows my voice. It can send messages from my number.”

Adrian’s heart hammered.

“That’s why you can’t trust your phone.”

The voice sounded scared.

Perfectly scared.

Then it said something that made Adrian open her eyes.

“Remember Mom’s red scarf?”

Adrian froze.

“You used to hide it under your pillow after she died because it still smelled like her perfume.”

Tears filled Adrian’s eyes.

Nobody knew that.

Nobody except Max.

She stood slowly.

“Max?”

“Yes.”

She reached for the gate.

Her phone vibrated.

She looked down.

ADRIAN DON’T

She ignored it.

Another message.

HE WATCHED US FOR YEARS

Her hand stopped.

THAT’S HOW HE KNOWS

Adrian stepped backward.

On the other side of the fence, Max’s voice changed.

“Adrian?”

She didn’t answer.

“Adrian, open the gate.”

She backed away.

His voice hardened.

“Open it.”

The gate shook.

Adrian ran.

Behind her, the gate exploded inward.

She heard Max chasing her.

But his footsteps were wrong.

Not three anymore.

Too many.

Fast.

Uneven.

Some struck pavement while others scraped against fences and walls, as though whatever followed her had more limbs than it knew how to use.

Adrian screamed and sprinted toward the only place she could think of.

Home.

The thing chased her all the way back.

She reached the house, slammed the front door behind her and locked it.

Silence.

Adrian leaned against the door, gasping.

Her phone still read 2:13.

Then she heard pounding upstairs.

The attic.

“Max!”

She ran to her bedroom, dragged the chair beneath the hatch and climbed.

Max was lying beside the attic window.

His face was bruised. Blood covered one sleeve.

When he saw her, he scrambled backward.

“No.”

Adrian stopped.

“Max?”

“Stay away from me.”

“It’s outside.”

Max shook his head violently.

“No, Adrian.”

She climbed fully into the attic.

“I saw it. It looked like you.”

“No.”

Max’s eyes filled with terror.

“You don’t understand.”

Something hit the front door downstairs.

Once.

The whole house shook.

Adrian crawled toward her brother.

“We need to get out.”

Max pressed himself against the wall.

“Adrian, listen to me.”

Another impact downstairs.

The wood cracked.

Max looked at her face.

Then at her hands.

Then slowly downward.

Adrian followed his gaze.

Her feet were filthy from running barefoot through the street.

Except they weren’t her feet.

They were too long.

The toes bent at strange angles, the joints pressing against the skin as though someone had assembled them from memory and gotten the proportions wrong.

Adrian stared.

“No.”

Max began crying.

“Adrian never came back.”

She looked at him.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m your sister.”

“You’re not.”

Adrian looked down again.

The feet were still wrong.

She lifted one.

It moved when she told it to.

She curled the toes.

They curled.

But they weren’t hers.

Another crash came from downstairs.

The front door broke open.

Adrian flinched.

For a second, she looked away from her feet.

When she looked back, they were normal.

Small.

Dirty.

A cut across the left heel from where she had stepped on something outside.

Her feet.

Adrian stopped breathing.

“Max.”

He pressed himself harder against the wall.

“Don’t.”

“Look at my feet.”

“I already did.”

“Look again.”

“No.”

“Max.”

His eyes flicked downward.

His expression changed.

Adrian saw the confusion immediately.

“What?” she asked.

Max said nothing.

“What do you see?”

His mouth opened.

“My sister’s feet.”

Adrian looked down.

Still normal.

The cut on her heel had begun to bleed.

“You saw them too,” she whispered.

Max nodded.

“They were wrong.”

“Yes.”

“But now they’re not.”

Neither of them spoke.

Something moved downstairs.

One step.

Two.

Three.

Adrian understood before Max did.

“It showed us the same thing.”

“What?”

“It wanted you to think I wasn’t me.”

Max stared at her.

Adrian looked toward the darkness beyond the mattress.

“The messages. Your voice. My feet. It’s not just copying things.”

A coldness moved through her that had nothing to do with the attic.

“It can make us see them.”

Max shook his head. “How do we know they’re normal now?”

“We don’t.”

That was the worst part.

Adrian looked at her hands.

For an instant, she wondered whether those belonged to her either.

Whether Max’s face was really Max’s face.

Whether the attic existed.

Whether she had ever made it out of the house.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

“No.”

“What?”

“That’s what it wants.”

Another footstep sounded below.

Then a woman’s voice called from downstairs.

“Adrian?”

Adrian stopped breathing.

She knew that voice.

She hadn’t heard it in eleven years.

Their mother.

Max covered his ears.

“No. No, no, no.”

The woman downstairs called again.

“Max?”

Adrian looked toward the hatch.

Max grabbed her wrist.

“Don’t answer.”

The footsteps moved through the hallway.

Slowly.

Three at a time.

Their mother began humming.

The same lullaby she used to sing when they were children.

Adrian felt tears running down her cheeks.

“Mom?”

Max slapped a hand over her mouth.

The humming stopped.

For several seconds, the entire house was silent.

Then their mother laughed.

Not downstairs.

Right behind them.

Max turned first.

A woman stood in the darkest corner of the attic.

She wore a red scarf.

And she was smiling.

“Found you.”

Chapter 2 https://editor.reedsy.com/s/YQbnkKd