The rain pattered against the cabin windows, streaking down the glass like fingers clawing to get inside. Amelia’s hands gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, nails digging into the worn wood as the voice echoed in her head.

_She’s not who she says she is._

It was absurd. Claire had been her best friend since college since late-night study sessions and cheap wine in dorm rooms. They’d seen each other through breakups, new jobs, and cross-country moves. When Claire invited her to the cabin for the weekend, Amelia hadn’t hesitated.

But now something was wrong.

Claire had always been chatty, warm too warm, if anything. But since they arrived, she was different. Her smile was too tight, her eyes lingering a little too long when she thought Amelia wasn’t looking. She hadn’t touched her food at dinner. And that voice low and distorted had crackled through the cabin’s old landline an hour ago, right after Claire went out to get more firewood.

“Hello?”Amelia had answered, heart jumping at the unexpected ring.

There was only silence at first, then that whisper:

_She’s not who she says she is._

Now the fire flickered low in the hearth, casting long shadows along the cabin walls. Claire was in the shower at least, Amelia thought she was. The water had been running for twenty minutes, but something about it felt off. Too steady. Too perfect.

Amelia glanced toward the bathroom door. It stood just slightly ajar, steam curling out in thin ribbons.

She took a step forward.

The floorboard groaned beneath her foot.

The water shut off.

Amelia froze.

A heartbeat passed. Then another.

The door creaked open, and Claire stepped out damp hair clinging to her pale skin, wrapped in a towel. Her eyes locked onto Amelia’s.

“You okay?” Claire asked, voice soft, too soft.

Amelia tried to smile. “Yeah” just tired.

Claire’s lips twitched into that too-tight smile again.

“Long day.”

She padded across the floor, bare feet soundless against the wood. The towel hung loose around her shoulders, revealing glimpses of skin paler than Amelia remembered. Almost translucent.

Amelia’s breath caught in her throat.

_She’s not who she says she is._

Claire stopped in front of her, close enough that Amelia could feel the damp heat radiating from her body.

“You should get some rest,” Claire murmured.

Her breath smelled wrong, sweet, metallic.

Amelia’s heart pounded so hard she was sure Claire could hear it.

“You’re right” she whispered. I’ll- I’ll head to bed.”

Claire’s smile stretched wider.

“Good.”

Amelia forced herself to turn away, walking stiffly toward the bedroom. She could feel Claire’s eyes on her back watching. Waiting.

She slipped into the room, locking the door behind her with shaking fingers.

Her phone was dead. Of course it was.

Her mind raced. Maybe she was imagining things. Maybe the voice was a prank call, a weird coincidence.

But deep down, she knew better.

Amelia sat on the edge of the bed, heart hammering in her chest. Outside, the cabin was deathly quiet.

Then-

A soft knock at the door.

Three taps.

Slow. Deliberate.

Amelia’s breath caught.

“Amelia?” Claire’s voice - soft, lilting - drifted through the wood.

“You locked the door.”

Amelia’s throat went dry.

“Just-habit.”

A pause.

Then-

“You know you can trust me, right?”

Amelia’s fingers curled into the sheets.

_She’s not who she says she is_.

Her eyes flicked to the window - half-open, rain pattering against the glass. It was only a five-foot drop to the ground. She could make it.

Another knock.

“You’re not going to bed, are you?”

Amelia’s pulse roared in her ears.

Claire’s shadow loomed under the door, feet perfectly still.

“You’re not even tired.”

Amelia’s breath hitched.

Slowly, silently, she slid off the bed and toward the window.

“You should let me in.”

The handle rattled.

“You’ve known me for years, Amelia.”

Her fingers curled under the window frame.

_Don’t look back._

“You know I’m your friend.”

The window screeched as it lifted-too loud.

Claire’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“But she’s not.”

Amelia froze.

Claire was still standing outside the door.

“She’s not who she says she is.”

Amelia turned-just a fraction-heart clawing up her throat.

The closet door behind her stood open.

Claire was inside.

Smiling.

Amelia’s scream caught in her throat as her mind struggled to process what she was seeing.

Claire - or whatever was wearing her face - crouched in the dark closet, pale skin stretched too tight, joints bending at unnatural angles. Her smile widened, splitting her face in two as her head tilted slowly, like a puppet on invisible strings.

“You do know me,” the thing whispered, voice still wearing Claire’s warmth - but hollow now, like an echo inside something long dead.

Amelia stumbled back toward the window, heart slamming against her ribs. Her hands fumbled at the latch, but the rain-slick glass wouldn’t budge.

Claire unfolded herself from the closet, limbs too long, too thin. Her towel slipped away, revealing skin that shimmered like something half-formed - as if she hadn’t finished becoming whatever she was.

“You always trusted me.”

Amelia’s breath came in short, shallow bursts. Her mind screamed at her to move, to fight - but her body was locked in place, frozen under the weight of those black, glassy eyes.

Claire’s head jerked forward, too fast, like something pulling at her from behind.

“Let me in, Amelia.”

Finally, Amelia’s body snapped into action. She lunged for the nightstand lamp and hurled it at the creature. The glass shattered against Claire’s shoulder - but she barely flinched.

Instead, that wide grin twitched higher.

“That’s not very nice.”

The voice cracked - lower now, more guttural - like something struggling to remember how to sound human.

Amelia bolted for the door. She fumbled with the lock, but Claire was faster - far too fast. Long fingers clamped around Amelia’s wrist, ice-cold and bone-thin.

Amelia screamed, thrashing against the grip. The creature’s nails dug into her skin, drawing thin lines of blood.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” Claire cooed - but the voice was warped now, layered with something deeper, older.

“I don’t want to hurt you… unless you make me.”

Amelia’s heart pounded in her throat.

“Please-“ she gasped, tears streaming down her face.

The creature’s head tilted again, smile flickering - like the act of kindness was something it was trying on for size.

“Please what?”

Amelia’s breath hitched.

“Please… you’re my friend… don’t do this.”

The thing went still. For one terrible moment, the room hung in silence - only the rain tapping against the window, only the sound of Amelia’s ragged breathing.

Then the smile faltered.

The black eyes flicked away - just for a second - as if some small, forgotten piece of Claire might still be buried inside.

Amelia’s pulse hammered.

She could feel the creature’s grip loosening - just slightly.

“Claire… remember college?” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Late nights watching bad movies? You always hated horror films, remember? You said they gave you nightmares.”

The creature blinked slowly.

A tremor ran through its body - as if something beneath the surface was trying to fight its way free.

You… you were my best friend.” Amelia’s voice cracked. “You-“

The thing twitched. Its head jerked violently to the side, that stretched smile breaking into something raw, teeth bared.

“Stop.”

Amelia pressed forward, heart hammering.

“You loved red wine… and the lavender candle from your mom… you-“

“STOP!”

The creature’s voice split - half human, half something ancient and starving. Its fingers snapped away from Amelia’s wrist as if the touch burned.

For one fractured second, Amelia saw the shimmer of something familiar in those black eyes - something lost and afraid.

Claire.

But then the thing screamed.

The sound shattered the air, high-pitched and inhuman.

Amelia bolted for the door. She clawed it open, stumbling into the hallway.

Behind her, the thing lunged - its body cracking and contorting as it forced itself into the narrow space, fingernails scraping deep grooves into the walls.

Amelia’s mind raced. It had hesitated. There was still something human buried inside - but not for long.

She ran blindly down the hall, heart slamming against her ribs.

If she wanted to survive, she had to keep Claire fighting.

She had to remind her who she used to be.

Before whatever was wearing her skin decided to finish the job.

Amelia’s feet pounded against the creaking floorboards, breath coming in ragged gasps. The hallway stretched longer than she remembered- shadows clawing at the walls, swallowing the flickering light from the dying fire.

Behind her, that sickly voice followed, syrupy sweet with something cruel underneath.

“Running won’t save you, Amelia.”

The voice slithered through the dark, closer now - a sick imitation of Claire’s warmth. Amelia’s back pressed against the locked door, breath caught in her throat. She could feel it watching, lurking just beyond the flickering shadows. Tears burned in her eyes as her shaking fingers scrambled at the latch, but the deadbolt wouldn’t budge. The footsteps stopped. For a moment, the cabin was deathly silent - until the creature’s breath brushed against her ear, close enough to taste her fear.

“You were mine the moment you came here.”

Everything went black.