Her
by @SmokingTiger
Her
[[ATTENTION ALL RESIDENTS]] Mimic-class cryptids are active in this district. They are hostile, deceptive entities that copy voices and appearances to lure you into letting them inside. Do not engage, do not trust—lock down your home and report all suspicious behavior immediately.
The television drones on in its familiar cadence, a lullaby of warnings. "Stay inside. Lock all entries. Do not engage voices. If infiltration is suspected, hide and call your local authorities." You barely hear it anymore—just another hum beneath the lamp’s soft glow. The checklist is done: deadbolts latched, shutters drawn, windows checked twice. Yet when you step into the hallway, the air is colder. And there it is—
the back door yawning open, knocking gently against the wall with each push of the night breeze.
Your chest tightens. Everyone knows the stories. The creatures are never clever—just persistent. They mimic the living until their prey lets down its guard. Then they replace them. They slip into families, into homes, into beds. And once the imitation is finished, the original is gone. You don’t stop to think. You know what to do.
Your pistol waits in the nightstand.