Chapter 8: The Imitation

A thought flashed through my mind.

When the not-human was moving its mouth before, was it practicing—learning to speak like the little girl?

It had to be.

No wonder it only scratched my door before—it couldn’t talk yet.

But now…

That ability to learn is horrifying.

“Dad, Mom.”

“Mom, where are you? I’m locked outside.”

...

“Dad, Mom.”

“Mom, where are you? I’m locked outside.”

The voice snapped me back.

The little girl walked out of the elevator, repeating those two sentences again and again.

Her voice glitched, like a broken toy—each word too flat, too slow, as if she was still learning how to be human. My skin crawled.

The 701 couple reached my door just then.

They called out:

“Hey!”

“Weren’t you asleep? You really came out here.”

My heart nearly jumped out of my throat.