The Forest in Appalachia Remembered Her Face and Followed Her Home

Like Mike, But Not

Desperate, Harper dug up every voicemail Mike had ever left. Most were normal. But one, buried deep in an old backup, had a faint second layer, like something else beneath his words. She ran the audio through editing software, slowed it down, and isolated the static. That’s when she heard it.

A low voice mimicking Mike’s tone, just milliseconds behind. A half-second echo saying, “Let me in.” “Let me wear your skin.” Harper dropped the phone. The voice kept going, whispering things it couldn’t have known. Then it said, “Don’t look behind you.” She turned and saw nothing, but the closet door was now open.

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