One night, while Stephen couldn't sleep, he decided to walk around the dark house, opening all of the windows to let in moonlight and to breathe in anything other than the muggy air of his house.

 He walked toward the bathroom, which was their go-to for when their mind bent itself at the changes always happening in and on their body. The eyes were bloodshot from a lot of crying and hardly any sleep, and their skin had deep scars from the worst of their breakdowns. It had settled into a slight tan, losing a bit of prominence now that they stayed inside all the time. The split hair was now longer and messy. 

Everything changed to say the least. As fascinating as it was, they didn't like the constant reminder of it all.

The lights in the bathroom suddenly went off. The body’s eyes adjusted quickly, as they didn’t usually use lights in the house to get around.

Both beings were on high alert, still as a statue trying to assess possible threats around the house. As they kept their eyes on the barely seeable mirror, one could have sworn the dark played tricks on their mind: the mirror surface was violently rippling, like someone threw a heavy object at a body of water.

"Come home," they heard, a faint whisper in the silent house, "Come home."

The lights in the bathroom flickered a bit before returning to darkness. Within that split second of illumination, there was a pitch black figure in the mirror next to their terrified reflection. Their heart dropped and they stumbled back against the wall, keeping eyes on the mirror as their sight adjusted. Instead of seeing nothing, there, on the other side of the glass, was a shadowy body in a room just as dark as the bathroom, the humanoid thing darker than the abyss surrounding it.

"Who are you?" Stephen asked with the body’s broken voice.

"Come home." The voice kept saying. The figure only twisting its head, like a coax for them to come nearer.

And more chimed in. Smaller ones, persistent ones, whispers, "Come home."

The shadow figure reached its hand out and seemed to break through the mirror surface.

A sudden dilemma struck up in the fusion that stared at the reaching hand.

The child did not sense any danger with this unknown creature. It wanted to reach out as well.

Stephen was not having it. Fighting the strong emotions of the other with his own willpower and fear, he kept them planted against the wall. He would have ran out the door if it didn’t mean being remotely closer to the mirror, but it did.

The tense internal fight distracted them enough to not notice the creature retreat, and they also failed to notice the hands that suddenly grabbed them through the wall.

They screamed, swatting off the hands that had the intent of pulling them through Stephen’s drywall.

Stephen waited no longer, bolting out of the door in a flurry, hiding in his room, with the child protesting in their head.

‘Nice!’ It insisted, ‘Nice!’

‘No! Not nice! It tried to pull us through a wall!’

‘Home!’ The being wailed.

‘This is my home, I refuse to live dead in a wall!’

‘No!’

‘No? No, what?’

‘No! Home!’

The child only knew very few words. Stephen knew this. It tried explaining to him- through feeling- the safety it felt around that shadow, but Stephen was not listening, as all he felt was fear of the unfamiliar.

All he comprehended was that both of these strange things wanted to pull him through a wall and a mirror.

Then, the shadow appeared in the middle of his bedroom, and all he felt was dread.

The figure faced them, not a definitive feature to their outline. 

“You must fight no longer. Come home.” even the voice gave no clue to who or what it could be.

“Who are you?!” Stephen spoke through the body, voice trembling and hoarse.

The shadow simply reached out its hand, waiting patiently for them to take it. 

The other voices were back, chanting the same thing this creature was, “Come home.”

‘Home! Please!’

“What if we get hurt?” He said out loud, making the voices pause, and the figure tilt its head, lowering its waiting hand.

“It is not my fate to hurt you…”

“Not your fate?”

“Your existence is and will be full of pain, but my only task is to show you home. You must follow.”

“And if we don’t?”

“You are not considering the others with you, only yourself.”

“Others? Plural?”

“You think only the child is with you?”

“Well I haven’t heard or felt anyone else rattling around our head.”

The child didn’t like that comment, and sent pain through their eye, making the body flinch.

The figure chuckled, “Have you even bothered to give them time to surface? Reach out to them?”

“Who are they?”

“That I cannot tell you. Perhaps if you follow me they will show themselves.” 

It held out its hand once more.

With the excited buzz of the child and the consistent whispers, Stephen couldn’t help but be curious as to what this being had to offer, what it could show. Slowly, he reached their hand toward the figure, and when they touched, the shadow pulled. 

They were in front of the mirror again, the two conscious beings having polar reactions at once.

They couldn’t decipher if the squeak they’d just released was of fear or enthusiasm. This shadow had just teleported them.

Stephen would have stood no chance.

The figure, phasing through the mirror, hadn’t let go of their hand. When their hand touched the rippling surface, a burning sensation took over the body. As the figure pulled them more into the mirror, it only got worse.

Stephen’s immediate reaction was to pull them back, but the shadow had a strong hold on their hand. 

The rippling mirror felt like it was cutting through their body, embedding glass into their skin, like poison.

Stephen started yelling and fighting to be let go of, but the child was no help and the shadow was relentless.

Stephen fought until they were completely pulled through, and the body shook violently on whatever solidness they rested on. He assumed it was ground.