Classes had ended at ten and Aubrie made the long journey back to the Paracosmic, to change into her own clothes. She stood in the entrance, backlit by the rapidly fading twilight, looking into the utter darkness of a daytime café. In just eight hours, the café would open again, and she would be here, getting ready to open at six-thirty.

If she wanted any decent sleep at all, she needed to hurry. She didn’t bother turning on the lights, using her all-practical keyring-torch to light her way to the back, where she changed out of her work clothes. She sniffed them and was relieved to find they still smelt fine, that wearing them outside of working hours had not caused any unpleasant scents to cling to them.

Back in her own clothes, a loose-fitting white blouse, a thin jacket and a pair of jeans, she went to grab her rucksack from the counter, only...

She was certain she had left it by the counter. She walked past the café’s long mirror, trying to find her rucksack. Was it on the floor-

Something moved. Something in the corner of her eye. She turned to the mirror. In the barely lit room, she thought she saw her reflection smiling at her.

When she held the torch to the mirror, nothing was there. Just her reflection.

She approached the mirror, looking herself over. She must be more tired than she thought if she was seeing-

There.

She looked away. Her reflection continued staring at her.

She hurried to take a step back, but something not quite like her hand smashed through the mirror, shards clinging to the bleeding arm, as the reflection warped and grew less and less human, and yet still horribly recognizable as Aubrie.

No sound escaped her lips as she was yanked forward, into the mirror- she only had time to lift an arm over her face, she heard the smash-

She was lying on the ground. Flat on her stomach. Face buried in her arm. She looked up. Whatever that had been, it was gone. She was alone in a red-lit room, surrounded by shattered mirror. She carefully got to her feet. She looked back, over her shoulder.

The Paracosmic’s mirror was broken.

She looked back at the room. It looked like a twisted version of the Paracosmic, everything bathed in red light, the plants overgrown, and wild, green exit signs hung around the Paracosmic’s door, as if trying to make the exit as obvious as possible.

“H-hello?” she tentatively called. There was no answer. “Ms Silvey?” she called louder. Who knew, maybe Ms. Silvey knew there was a red-lit version of her café on the other side of the mirror. She walked towards the front door. It was so covered in exit signs, she could barely see through the glass. The little she could see, seemed to be… purple sky.

She took a step back.

What had happened? Where was she?

She heard the sound of a vinyl player starting. A cheery melody echoed in the empty mockery of the café. She froze for a moment, but as it continued playing and nothing else happened, she chose to follow the sound.

“Ba, ba, ba, ba, ba, ba, ba,” repeated a chorus of young women. In any other setting, it would have been pleasant but in this strange café it was just disconcerting.

She wandered into the kitchen and found a vinyl player sitting where the stove usually was.

“Little Aubrie, lost all alone
Without a friend to call her own
Breathe a happy sigh!
You’ve been chosen to fly!”

Aubrie felt her heart drop. Her name was hardly common. So, why her name? Who made this? Why?

As the baba chorus resumed, she observed the vinyl, spinning on its turntable. It looked crystalline or… perhaps more iridescent. It seemed hard to focus on. She could just about make out a golden label, although with the vinyl spinning, she was unable to read it.

“Little Aubrie, Gaderian’s own,
With all the gifts to grow and hone,
Be a hero bold!
Like the great tales of old!”

The song came to an end. Then a roar of noise, that tuned itself like a radio, multiple voices speaking distortedly until one voice became clear – one that sounded as familiar to her as her own voice, only more… reliable. Trustworthy. Parental.

“Aubriella Philomena Sanders, chosen Heleth of Soporifick, I know who you are.” She felt she knew who he was too. “Find the protagonist players and defeat the…” The last word became distorted and was hard to understand – perhaps something like ellenfel – ellenfels? “Survive and thrive.”

The vinyl came to an end and the needle returned to its resting state. With the record no longer spinning, she could see the golden label spelled out “The Play for Soporifick”. She tried to play the record again, but all that came out now was static that hurt her ears. She quickly stopped the vinyl player.

What was going on? What did it mean, survive and thrive…?

A sort of calm had flooded her when she was listening to the message and some understanding now remained in its absence. This place wasn’t the world she knew. It was instinctive knowledge to her, obvious to her now. Skies weren’t purple, not the way the one outside was. And where was all the red lighting coming from-

Why could she still hear static?

She ducked into a cupboard – just big enough for her to fit. She closed the door, as the static grew louder and louder. Through the gap, she saw an ink-covered, skeletal hand reach into the kitchen doorway, its fingers long and twitchy. A head followed the hand. A large tv screen filled with white noise, blaring at highest volume, not just in her ears, but inside her head. She clamped a hand over her mouth, as White Noise lumbered into the room, shrieking its noise, knocking the special vinyl out of its player, smashing it. It shrieked louder still, then lowered itself, as if looking for something.

It started opening the cupboards.

It was looking for her.

Was she hyperventilating? She couldn’t control her breathing. She couldn’t take any deep breaths- her diaphragm was convulsing. If she stayed in her cupboard, she would die.

Fight or flight took over.

With White Noise away from the exit, she bolted, first stumbling so she was almost on all fours, then sprinting towards the door, but the Paracosmic had tripled in size, and the exit was so small and hard to see, without the hundreds of exit signs she would have missed it-

She squeezed herself out of the exit, her hips only just fitting through the door, when she felt White Noise grab her ankle. She shrieked, as it tugged her back through the entrance, almost succeeding if she hadn’t latched onto the doorframe with her arms.

The foot it was holding felt like static, there was nothing there but a vague sense of distorted pain, but with her free foot, she kicked it square in the head, ignoring how her feet now both felt like noisy static.

She climbed out the café and stumbled into a run. The outside world had a purple sky, and the city was somewhat recognizable, even if the dimensions were terrifically warped and distorted, buildings now curling inward as if to tower over her.

She didn’t stop running until she’d run a few blocks. She fell to her knees, hands on the ground, as she hiccupped tears away. She was out of breath. If Rella hadn’t told her about White Noise, that thing would have… What, eaten her? She didn’t know. Her feet still felt strange. She hiccupped again and felt pathetic and scared, and it took some panicked sobbing before she realized she could no longer hear the staticky noise that White Noise emitted.

She slowly picked herself up. How would she get out? She’d been dragged through the mirror, so she should be able to exit through a mirror, right? She had a mirror at home. She rubbed her eyes, feeling tired, the kind of tiredness that came with sickness, a ringing sensation in her ear, churning in her stomach and conviction that sleep would not fix it.

She headed, almost automatically, down to the underground, where trains were in fact running. Still not thinking clearly, she didn’t make anything of the timetables that changed frequently and sputtered unintelligible gibberish, the only readable destinations vaguely hinting towards impending doom and danger.

She thought nothing of it as a train pulled up to the platform just as she got there, and she got aboard. It was the right colour for where she was heading. Just one stop, and then she’d be in her apartment, safe at home.

She sat down in the empty wagon, leaning her head against the headrest, breathing deeply. It was peaceful for a few moments, until she realized she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. She opened her eyes and looked around. In the immediate wagon, there was no one. But when she looked through the windows of the doors between wagons and a few wagons away, she could see someone with their back turned toward her.

He was wearing a hoodie, a plain pair of jeans and trainers, with a rucksack slung around his shoulders. She almost thought she’d found someone in this horrific world.

Then he turned to her.

His face was obscured by glitches and distortions. He was looking at her or at least gave the impression of doing so, warped as his face was.

They stared at each other.

He took one step toward her.

Her fight or flight instincts kicked in once more. He was another being like White Noise. There was no way to fight, she scrambled to her feet and started running – he gave chase.

He was faster than her.

As she ran to the next and next wagon, slamming the doors shut behind her-

He was outpacing her.

She wasn’t going to last. She couldn’t outrun him. He was going to get her. This was how she was going to die.

Chosen Heleth of Soporifick, I know who you are.

Do you?

She came to an abrupt stop.

She knew who she was.

She turned towards the boy, so overcome with glitches now, he was barely humanoid, giving up appearance for speed. She took off her jacket and wrapped the sleeves around her hands, the best improvised weapon she could make. She doubted that thing would die of strangulation, but she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

The creature reached for her, its arms open wide as if to embrace her, its face coming closer to hers. She stood her ground and reached out-